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[paprikaquinn]

the salver & the sword

paring: Suguru Geto x reader summary: Prince Satoru Gojo sends his trusted general, and friend, across the kingdom to retrieve the girl who saved him when he was a boy. You loathe the idea of having your life uprooted on the whim of some faraway prince, and General Suguru Geto is determined to see through his prince's command, by whatever means. word count: 3.1+ warnings: AFAB reader, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v unprotected, violence and murder author's note: We have two more chapters! I have it outlined, I just need to write it down. I have gotten swept away with another muse, but I swear I will finish this! Thank you for all the comments and reblogs, they give me life 💜

Chapter VII - Be Prepared 

Your name was a whisper that was warm and rasped, tickling your skin. His tongue trailed after his words, soft kisses that littered as he lowered towards the curve of your neck. 

“Suguru…?” A breathless moan spilled from you, sleep still fogging your mind. You arched against him, enjoying how his solid form moved to press on top of you. 

He was grinning and you could feel it. “Beautiful,” his voice cracked with the morning, another kiss to your pulse that was fluttering under your skin. 

He had you caged beneath him, enveloping you with his warmth and the delicious scent of his bare skin against yours. You opened your thighs so Suguru could slot his slender waist between, and he groaned as he shifted, flushed to your hips with the upwards, heavy press of his length to your soft stomach. 

A heat was already pooling between your thighs that were bruised from the love bites of last night. You wet your lips in anticipation, watching him. “What are you doing?”

He answered your coy question with a gentle kiss that was slow, searching until you emitted the softest sound from the back of your throat. Your eyes fluttered open again when he broke the kiss, a teary watercolor effect to the rose hues touching his face, his nose and across his cheeks. 

Suguru was grinning again. “Something I have thought about every morning we have spent together.” 

The thought thrilled you, but you teased. “But you always left me alone!”

“Because I am a gentleman.” He nestled lower between your thighs, his large hands curling underneath and dimpling into the softness of your skin. His breath tickled your cunt and you squirmed against him. “Let me.” 

It held you, the coaxing rasp of his voice that melted you into the bed, allowing him the careful taste of his tongue to follow up your folds, carving into the bundle of nerves above. You mewled, your hands knotting into the linen, your pleasure blooming as he continued to lave away until the blood emptied from your head and spiraled downwards, pulsing hot between your legs. 

“Suguru,” you repeated, panting, your skin prickling as you balanced on the precipice he teased, his mouth and tongue sparking your nerves with his deliberate ministrations. You tucked your chin to watch the bob of his head, the silken spill of his black hair and his brow furrowed with a heedful concentration. 

“Suguru–!” you cried out as his passion poured from the end of his tongue, alighting up your spine. 

He only hummed and it vibrated through your bones, wrenching the air from your chest. He pulled away enough to curl his fingers within and fall into the tandem of his tongue. It pinned you to the mattress, pressing deep enough for you to see the stars bursting white in the morning twilight spilling in the room. He continued to unravel you, your blood searing its release and your legs trembling. 

You felt boneless, melding into the hard press as Suguru shifted upwards to steal another kiss from you with the slow grind of his hips, his heady length between your silken folds. You cried, your fingers curling the nape of his neck, pulling to lick your glisten off his lips, his chin, a tearful giggle when you looked into his eyes.

“If you continue this, I will never wish to leave this bed.” You were breathless, canting your hips against him. 

He groaned with your motion, his smirk curling. “Is that so?” His one arm dipped between to guide his cockhead, a slow drag to line himself before he slowly sank into you. 

And even with the same careful consideration he carried to bed, you were sore still from last night, still craving him with a near desperation, an ache for his girth to split you open. Suguru tensed on top of you, pressed fully against your hips with a shuddered restraint, watching you, allowing you a moment to adjust; his rose tones blushed crimson on his cheeks. 

You could not help but clench and squirm beneath him, taking a deep breath before you lifted your head to kiss his chest, your tongue following his collarbones and your fingers moving to press the soft divots of his lower backside. You pulled him closer into the cradle of your hips, your teeth nipping at his earlobe. 

“I need you,” you whispered, moving for a soft kiss that barely touched his lips, “Suguru, please.” 

He rolled his hips against you, deliberate, delicious, falling into a rhythm that matched the after-pulse of your prior release. It was filling, rekindling your pleasure that began to knot at the base of your spine, a heat spreading on your backside.

You lifted your legs to wrap around him, to pull yourself closer for another searing kiss. Suguru groaned into your mouth, his head falling back into the slope of your neck with soft kisses under your jawline that punctuated his heavy breathing, mixing with his murmured praise. “Gods, you feel perfect–” 

His rhythm pulled your release with a different tensity, a warmth that flooded through you, pushing you to your seams and fluttering up your spine. You clung to him as he nipped at your pulse, pressing his lips to muffle his guttural groan as he lost himself in the throes of your pleasure, sloppy thrusts that filled you. 

He fell to the side, pulling you to curl against his chest until your heart beat slowed. You were burning as your fingers touched to learn him, following the smooth planes of his chiseled chest, following from one shoulder to the other. You kissed his chest and Suguru hummed, his arms wrapping around to press a kiss into your hairline. 

The rapt knock on the door let you know it was Yuki before she opened it. You scrambled for the sheets to cover yourself, blushing when your eyes met with her knowing gaze. “Geto–” she leaned against the doorway, her eyebrow arched– “I will charge you if you decide to keep this room for another night.” 

She insisted you join her for a meal and left before either of you could protest. Suguru groaned as he pulled himself away, unabashed as he walked to close the door behind her. He looked back at you, a sly smile curling on his mouth as he moved to grab a clean cloth to help you wipe away the spend and sweat that stuck to your skin. 

You both dressed and he reached to take your hand, your fingers interlacing with his to fit, and he brought it up for a sweet kiss. You blushed. 

Downstairs, the table was already set and Choso was seated, his shy gaze cast downwards until Yuki called his attention. You noticed his palpable change in his demeanor, the pink dusting across his cheeks and a devotion shining in his dark, brown eyes. He was rapt to Yuki while she talked gaily and loud, her cackled reminiscence about the days when the prince would drag Suguru to Shiba. 

“I want you to know that I sought out two horses for this last stretch of your journey.” Wine stained her grin. “But I do expect compensation from the crown.” 

Suguru chuckled. “I will make sure the prince knows.” 

“When will the general be leaving us?” she continued to tease, her cheeks rosy. She gestured with her kiseru, the pure silver gleaming, and Choso leaned forward with a match lit. “You seemed awfully cozy upstairs.” 

“First thing tomorrow morning.” Suguru was flushed, daring to steal a glance and see you matching the shade. 

Smoke rose above as her lips curled into a smile. “Well then, tell the prince he also owes me a room for board for a night as well.” 

The rest of the day and night was spent tangled in the fresh linen laid, an aching pleasure spilling and staining the cloth again. Night poured through the windows and Suguru pulled you onto his chest, your fingers curling the ends of his raven hair, an absentminded gesture, an intimate moment before sleep finally claimed you. 

Dawn groaned bright through the windows to wake you both. You changed into the slacks and tunic that Yuki had brought up to the room, packing to follow Suguru through the still sleeping brothel. The sun was rising to melt the morning frost, white clouds exhaling over your head as you made your way to the stable. 

Choso was waiting, finishing saddling both horses. You stepped towards one, your palm flat for the muzzle, and Suguru moved behind you, his large hands gripping into your hips to help lift you aback before he climbed up on the other. 

Chiba disappeared behind and the sun rotated overhead, continuing the vibrant autumn of burnt oranges and yellows and reds in the falling foliage that covered the ground. Suguru spoke to you just as before, the same ease and comfort that warmed your chest, though now you were aware of his lingering looks and the pink that flushed his sharp features. 

Your cheeks ached from how you smiled. 

The unsaid lingered, but you assumed Suguru did not feel a need to further reiterate about your decision with Prince Gojo. It made you anxious to arrive, to be done with the betrothal that stained your name so you could crawl abed with Suguru and never leave. 

But you kept this to your chest.

The horses allowed you to cut through Tengen, following the waning day, the sun dipping into the horizon with a golden glow behind the city of Hoshi. It was larger and louder than you remembered, a swarm of pedestrians that recognized Suguru and parted to allow the horses through; their chittering excitement rose above, the general had returned.

A man named Yaga greeted you at the gates, and Suguru climbed down to help you dismount, his hands never leaving but knitting with yours. You flushed, following after his purposeful strides that curved around the outside and towards the castle gardens. 

Autumn roses bloomed around you with the same vivacious pulse of color from the falling leaves. Dark stones were placed to follow along, and ahead you spotted him. 

He cut through the dusk. His silhouette was taller, perhaps a bit broader, though still very lithe. He had the same stark white hair that was mussed on top of his head which turned at the sound of your approaching footsteps. His celestial blue eyes flitted over you to focus onto Suguru, a lopsided grin sprawling across his jaw. 

“Suguru,” said Prince Gojo. “What the hell took you so long?” 

+ + + +

Ruthless. Remorseless. The disgraced one. 

I do not care what is said because I know that it is the victor who will write the histories, and I will see the ink stain with the brutal honesty of my legacy. 

It began with the rumors of my father’s infliction. They said he was cursed and that it poisoned his wife, the queen. She had always been frail and sickle, often abed, crushed beneath her constant failure to produce an heir–her sole duty to the kingdom. 

The king was encouraged to look outside his marriage to solidify his bloodline, and women from all over the Ryomen kingdom were gifted with that intention. 

This was how the king met my mother. At that time she possessed a determination to seize upon every opportunity presented, though later I would learn that she carved her destiny with bloodshed. She became his whore, one of many that the king would indulge in, but she made certain to be one of two women who would give him children. 

Her tenure allowed her a freedom within the castle walls, a sick devotion to madam over the collection of concubines. The women trusted her in return, and it allowed my mother to feed them a tea she concocted for the morning after, ensuring any dalliance with the king would never bear fruit. Its efficiency further rooted the rumors that my father was cursed, but that changed when my mother finally began to grow with life.

She showed off her pride with the swell of her stomach and her rosy cheeks, but it was a grace that was short-lived as six months into her pregnancy, it was announced that the queen was also with child. 

My mother then watched from the shadows as the queen wasted away, bedridden with her pregnancy. She clutched quietly onto her victory, twins born–my brother first, and then me. 

The queen, however, gave her life to bring a princess into the world. The babe was her mother’s reflection, weak and sickly, but she bore something that neither me nor my brother had.

Legitimacy. 

I truly remember very little of the princess other than her existence brought a guilt that plagued my father, something that began to rot him from within. The king pampered and doted on the princess, even commanding my mother to be her wet nurse. I knew she was the bane of my mother, and my mother often lamented her concerns for the future of the Ryomen kingdom to be ruled under a spoiled heir. 

I thought that she feared a political prowess that the princess simply did not possess, to a point that my mother even encouraged us to be playthings for the girl. It was a public gesture of goodwill for our king father, but I realized it was so the princess could be kept under our thumb. 

My mother would tell us to consume or be consumed. Her words unsettled my brother, as he did not have the spine for violence. Her words rooted within me, festering until one spring afternoon I decided to carve my own destiny from the tips of my fingers that wrapped around the princess’ throat, holding her beneath the river we often played by, watching as her life bubbled to the surface. 

My brother only watched up, pale but waiting. When he saw she was truly dead, he began to scream. 

His actions created a newfound empathy to be shown towards us, a tragic accident that allowed our father to truly see us for the first time. Though he withered away with his grief, his wife and daughter dead, he still listened to his council and appointed his faithful concubine as queen consort, which made my brother the crowned prince. 

The king shifted his devotion towards my brother while I fell to the shadows, absorbing everything that was said as if I did not exist in the room. Here I could see that my brother was enervated by the blood of our father and I realized that a weak foundation would cause the Ryomen kingdom to inevitably crumble. 

I saw this weakness with how my father looked to death like an old friend, or an atonement for his life. I saw how my mother muted her woes and grew complacent with the ideal that she succeeded in what she wished to obtain–direct access to the throne.

And I saw my brother just as I had seen the crowned princess when she was still alive: feeble and faceless. 

My mother’s words seeded deep–consume or be consumed. I wished for the crown as an ultimate strength to wield, devouring neighboring kingdoms to create the Ryomen empire. I wished to live as what would befit my nature, and knew if no one could grasp that, I would have to kill whoever was in my way. 

This objective stayed in the shadows with me, only flaring at my father’s deathbed. I made sure that my brother would accompany the king into the afterlife, and the shock of his death wrenched the life from my mother.

Some of the elders who had long served my father were appalled by my actions, but they could not hold up against the elders that I had allied myself with over the years. Civil war ripped through the Ryomen kingdom, but this allowed me to weed out the weak. 

What remained showed true loyalty to my idylls, and it gave me courage that I had not yet earned. I was young and brazen and nervy, my bloodlust awakened could not be reigned. I pushed through the neighboring kingdom, cutting southwards through Tengen and towards its capital, but despite our fearsome tactics, we still faced defeat. 

I vowed to learn from this failure, that I would adapt to become stronger. I even allowed the queen to come and pierce me with her cerulean blue eyes, but this was only so I could have a face for my mortal enemy. 

She was queenly and had potential, but she chose to be shackled with her sense of duty to her kingdom and to her son, Prince Satoru Gojo. I remember how he watched me from at her side, unblinking, unnerving. 

The next attempt was gradual. The greed of men was nurtured with rumors unearthed about the unfairness of the border treaty in place and how its existence would continue to cripple the Ryomen kingdom. It allowed a resentment that festered, a newfound loyalty that enlisted to grow our militant strength. My commanders were hand chosen and I truly believed that I had the strength required to create my empire. 

It would not be the same bold force that tried to cleave Tengen in half, but skirmishes that targeted villages and towns and cities, expanding Ryomen bit by bit. Victory was still fleeting, thwarted by variables I never considered: the queen’s son was now grown and possessed a prowess to command an undying loyalty.

That power to command extended to some boy who happened to find a sword that had not been seen for a hundred years. Though sacrifice and suicide seemed closely intertwined, this sword was a fatal extension that cut through and soaked the earth with the blood of Ryomen. 

I remembered the purple-eyed demon, and I cursed his very existence.

But again, I swore to learn, to adapt while vengeance thrummed beneath. 

It began again, bloodshed at the borders claimed by Tengen, pressing for a reaction and every attempt ignored. If I must challenge them, so be it. I will write to them with the spilled blood of their people. I will send my assassins to slain whatever woman was chosen for the prince–no matter the station, no matter the tactics. 

As long as I am gifted her head. 

I will no longer be ignored. I know something bolder must claim their attention. 

My men found me a young knight still adorned in his queensguard armor, battered and bruised, but alive. Pride held up his head, his dark eyes burning through, and I cannot help but smirk. He was forced to his knees in front of me and I loomed closer, waiting until his gaze returned upwards. 

I cannot help how my lips curled with my words: “I have a very important message that I wish you to deliver to the crown prince.”

taglist: @sugurubabe @elliesndg @paprikaquinn @yeehawbrothers @witchbybirth @thenameswinter99 @maskedpacific

arcie's navi | jjk masterlist the salver & the sword masterlist

[paprikaquinn]

“you breathed, taking in his sweat that mixed sinfully with the soap you gifted him, that heady scent that seized through you.”

the salver & the sword

Artwork by @azperja 💜

paring: Suguru Geto x reader summary: Prince Satoru Gojo sends his trusted general, and friend, across the kingdom to retrieve the girl who saved him when he was a boy. You loathe the idea of having your life uprooted on the whim of some faraway prince, and General Suguru Geto is determined to see through his prince's command, by whatever means. word count: 4.7k warnings: AFAB reader, more pining and angst, kissing, vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected because this is a medieval au author's note: I am reading through the manga and enjoying knitting other characters into my story. Only 3 chapters to go!

Chapter VI - If I Am With You

With Mimiko gone, there was only the option to walk the day away, until you finally spotted the gold light pouring through the streets of Shiba, the early evening already thrumming with the combination of music and laughter. Suguru pushed through the noise, the saddle bags thrown over his shoulder and Nanako glinting from his backside. You followed after, holding onto your satchel, your stomach groaning at the savory smells of cooked goods and ale that was crisp in the autumn air. 

The town was brimming from some celebration, and every room was booked for the night. Your steps grew heavy with the dull ache for a proper bath and a bed where you could sleep for a hundred years, when the name Kento Nanami mentioned entered your weary mind. 

“Who is Yuki?” 

There was the flicker of something that was tucked beneath his mastered stoicism, though the same rose tones flushed over–just as it did when her name was first spoken. It pulsed a curiosity anew that tugged at your heart, begging to ask him, but you remained silent. You noticed the shift in his demeanor when you came to the town’s border, a hesitation from Suguru and his eyes flitting over before carving inconvenient pathways through the crowds. 

It was also the first time he had not directly addressed one of your questions. Instead, he paused and watched you for a moment, your exhaustion evident. Suguru sighed softly and reached for your hand. 

The gesture swept away your mind, lost with how your palm fit within his, and you allowed the warmth of his touch to guide your steps. Together, you weaved through the festivities, pushing through under you came to a villa that was decorated with men and women, dressed in their finery, leering over the veranda bannister to tease the possible patrons drunkenly waltzing by. 

You could feel the weight of their collective gaze turning to you and Suguru, a tittering excitement that could not be missed–the general has returned!

Your eyebrow arched at Suguru, but he would not look back at you. 

He was watching the woman who walked out to greet the commotion, aglow under the manmade lights and wearing a rich, silk gown tailored to her athletic figure. Her manicured hands held an unlit kiseru, toying with it. 

“Suguru Geto,” she said with a curl to her rosy lips, “you have been sorely missed.” 

Yuki Tsukumo was the madame and the matriarch of Shiba. Her crown was her golden hair that spilled down her backside, cut to frame her heart shaped face. She seemed to lord over from the top steps, her eyes dancing over you both. “Have you come to celebrate?”

Suguru sighed again. “I admit, I was not even aware there was a reason to.” He did not balk under her gaze and his smirk returned. “The days have been lost to me.” 

Another woman in red moved forward, lighting a match as Yuki pinched her fingers around the mouthpiece, her lips pulling a cloud of smoke. “Autumn has begun, or whatever excuse they wish to make so they can drink out in my streets.” 

His eyes did not stray. “You will have to excuse us then, as we have been preoccupied by the command of my prince.” 

“I was wondering if that was dealt with.” As she looked you over, you were determined to hold her gaze. “Are you the one Gojo has chosen? You have my sympathies.” 

It seemed almost patronizing and her words burned through you, simmering to the tips of your ears. She stepped down, closer, unbothered by your silence, and looked back to Suguru. “Why are you here?” “We need a place to stay tonight, Yuki,” he admitted. 

“Oh Geto, as you can see, we are very busy,” she giggled, more smoke spilling, “but I am certain any one of my bawds would happily welcome you back into their bed.” 

His jaw ticked, but his smirk remained. “We are only needing a place to rest for the night. Gojo is expecting us.” 

Her eyebrow arched. “Very well,” and she clucked her tongue, a shift to command, looking over her shoulder with the wave of her hand to summon the woman in red, as well as a man you had not noticed before. She then began to list off instructions that sparked lift into her staff surrounding her. 

The man was first to action, tall and fit, with a searing desperation to remain unseen amongst the whores surrounding him, but rapt to Yuki, his dark eyes only holding for her. “Choso,” –he brightened with his name– “be a dear and find the general a change of clothes.” 

“I also want a bath prepared for each of my guests,” her rose eyes watched the flutter of girls dividing to tend to the task, before settling back onto the remaining woman; her attention drawled over Suguru, glossy. “I want you to escort her to the bathhouse and make sure the room has been readied by the time they have finished–forgive me, Geto, but I only have one room to spare.” Yuki smirked before she sharpened onto the woman’s scowl. “Don’t pout. It is unbecoming.”  

Her dismissal set you in motion, pulling you inside the brothel and splitting from Suguru, his hand reluctant to let you go as Choso let him away. Your legs were numb to follow up the stairs, your mind whirling from the tobacco and the incense burning, from the words still echoing in your head–

You have been sorely missed.

You clutched onto your satchel, walking up the staircase that curved around. The woman you followed was busty with a voluptuous spill from her dress. Her hooded eyes cast over the railing, admiring Suguru and Choso as they walked away, before her gaze settled onto you, her grin cutting through on her painted lips.

“The general is just as handsome as I remember him,” she began, her tone dripping with implication. “Do you not agree?” 

Of course you did–it was written plain across your face for anyone to see. Your gait shifted to match her slowed-down pace, an unease prickling your skin as her eyes continued to flit over you. “He has filled out some from what I remember. More definition,” she continued with her coy sneer. “I wonder, is he still just as insatiable?”  

“I–” you swallowed and it clawed down your throat. “He and I… we are not together in that way.” 

You were aware of the differences between his life and your own, but it was now something that was palpable, perfumed, in front of you and you were choking on it. She had you pinned as a simpleton from the north, dressed in rags and swept away with the fantasy of General Suguru Geto because of how your hands interlaced with his. 

Stupid, you blinked, desperate to keep your tears from falling. 

“Oh, my mistake,” she continued her feign sincerity that raked through you “I had only assumed, but perhaps I should try and persuade him to my bed, allowing you the room to yourself?” 

The favor offered left you raw, flustered, unable to respond, but thankfully a door opened to see the girls from before filling a porcelain tub. A rich aroma wafted through the air of rose and lavender and eucalyptus, grounding you. 

“You may do whatever you wish.” Your words were tight, and you pushed past her, stepping through the door. 

They moved to leave you alone; you tore away your tattered clothes to disappear into the milk bath, slipping beneath the petals floating above for a scream that bubbled to the surface.  

Simpleton or not, you held no aversion to sex but understood that whatever traffic came through your small village could not compare to the promiscuity that seemed well known of General Suguru Geto. That thought did not bother you–in truth, you loathed how it enticed you further–but what gnawed through your bones to drag your heavy heart into the pit of your stomach was the realization of the abyss that existed between your worlds. 

That you could never satisfy. 

Not that it even mattered.

In less than two days, you would turn down the proposal of Prince Gojo and return to the north, or wherever your silver would allow you to reinstate and build your life again. And Suguru would remain, his devotion a detriment. 

And that was what rattled through you, splintering into your chest: that Suguru would no longer be in your life, and what was worse was you could not remember how it was before him. 

Stupid! You groaned, pressing your palms to cover your eyes, the fruitless wish that you would have just let Gojo drown. 

A sharp knock on the door pulled you from your misery. “Come in?” you asked, slipping to hide yourself beneath the water’s white surface.  

Yuki entered with a bundle of plum silk. “I have found something clean for you to wear,” she announced, moving to hang it behind the dressing screen. 

Before you could stop it, your mind thought of how the color would complement his eyes, and you wished you could drain away with the bathwater. “Thank you.” 

She did not leave, but moved towards the dresser, a clink of glass as she pinched some of the hair thin tobacco to pack into her pipe before lighting it. Smoke trailing with her steps as she moved to open the wooden shutters, allowing the celebration to faintly pour in, exhaling the blue hue of smoke back into the night. 

“How long have you known the general?”

Yuki smirked as if she had been expecting the question. “A very long time, back to when Gojo would slip away from his mother and drag Geto along.” She took another drag, seating herself on the window ledge and looked over at you. “I found I could empathize with the prince. And besides, the pair of them left quite the impression.” 

Of course they did. You wilted at her words, but chose to ask her something else. “What do you mean that you could empathize with the prince?” 

She tilted her head to appraise you, pleased with your question and happy to share. She was an esteemed lady of the court and one of the queen’s favorites. A favorable match had been made, but Yuki found that she loathed the man on sight. Perhaps it was because her father overindulged her shrewd mind, but she could not stomach being wasted on a man who had to interest in anything she had to say; he only wished for a gilded decoration. 

So she left. 

“Shiba was nothing more than a little village,” she smiled with the memory. “I had a villa built to serve as a reprieve. I pulled in traders passing through for Hoshi. Then, one day, the prince showed up and relished in my whores.” She glowed with her business savvy. “And here we are.” 

Relished. “Did they come often?” 

“They returned frequent enough.” She took another drag, smoke pouring from her painted lips. “They were insatiable, really.” 

Insatiable. Another word that gutted you. “Did…” you licked your lips, pulling the courage to ask, “did they have their favorites?” 

Your mind returned to the woman in red while Yuki thought for a moment. “Gojo did, but no one seemed to hold Geto’s attention, just whatever happened to pass by. But I will say that whenever the pair would show, everyone was desperate to catch the general’s eye.” 

You appreciated her blunt honesty. It needed to be said, the reaffirmation that no one could solely satiate the general… that you were nothing more than passing memory that glimmered in his amethyst eyes. 

You changed the subject. “Thank you again for your hospitality, though I assume that he will probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” You were not bitter, but wounded. 

“Perhaps.” Her rose eyes glittered. “But that does not mean you cannot have your own fun tonight.” 

The warm bath blotched your skin, crimson exploding across your features. “I do not want–” 

“The festival,” Yuki interrupted you, her laughter filling the room. “There will be vendors and dancing and fireworks. You should come with me and see all that Shiba has to offer.” 

+ + + +

By the time you finished bathing, Yuki called for more girls to come and help you get dressed. Silk was wrapped around to fit your form, flowing with your steps. Your hair was braided back to the nape, allowing the rest to fall and dry in the cool air. Scented oils were touched to the curve of your neck and wrists, a rose tint to your lips. 

You walked downstairs to see Yuki awaiting, the man named Choso shadowing her. Her mirthful eyes washed over you and stopped at your feet. “The boots will make it easier for me to navigate through the crowds,” you argued before she spoke a word. 

Her eyes glittered. “You are prettier than any of my girls,” she announced, reaching for your hand and pulling you to follow. 

Shiba was magical at night. Vendors were lined with their sweets and treats and different liquors on display while dancers floated through, their streamers trailing behind their graceful steps in synchrony to the music lilting above. The silver of the moon was halted by the shining amber arc created from the lamps and torches lit. People paused with a child-like wonder and rosy cheeks, watching the fireworks bursting above between the song interludes. 

Choso was quiet, a shadow that followed after Yuki. She pulled to lead, pausing at each booth to smile at the compliments poured over her and accept whatever gift presented. You indulged with a taste of everything, anything she placed in your hands with a plum wine to wash it down. 

Benches were placed to sit and spectate. You seated yourself next to Yuki, untying the cloth to share the yaki-garu, peeling the chestnuts to taste. Choso remained standing, ever watchful, ever devoted, though his shyness melted once Yuki finally settled her eyes onto him. As another dance recital began, she looked at you before she decided to pull him away for a stolen moment. 

You remained seated, smiling, savoring the memory of the night, allowing it to embed into your bones. It would be something you pulled when you were old and gray, a recollection retrieved with a sweet sigh and smile. 

It was your name that pulled you back, cutting through, sharp and distinct. Your head snapped to see Suguru, his height above the villagers as he pushed towards you. His face was twisted, but not with the anger to match his tone, but a fear, a desperation you had never seen before. 

“I have been searching everywhere for you.” His voice was rasped and you stood up, the chestnuts falling to the ground as he reached for you. “You cannot just take off like that. What if something would have happened–” 

“But nothing happened,” you found yourself snapping, wrenching from his hold. Your agitation twisted on your face, spilling hot from your tongue. “I just assumed that you wished for time to socialize, as you seem so very popular in Shiba.” 

He steeled his jaw, but did not touch you again. “I would not think you would damn me for my past actions.” 

Always a statement, and never a question, but either way, he seemed wounded. It was not what you wanted, but you could not stop. “I did not want to keep you from whatever your… insatiable appetite desired.” 

He pushed closer, spilling into your space, his arms reserved at his sides and his purple eyes sparked with the light around. “You are stubborn to a fault, and every thought that enters your head will spill off your tongue. You have isolated yourself in a way that I wonder if you are refusing Satoru solely because you cannot allow anyone to become close to you.” 

It rattled your bones with a fury that seared to the surface. “I was trying to be considerate of what you wanted.” Your tone was biting, spurred by the busty woman from earlier–I should try and persuade him to my bed. “Was it not what you wanted?” 

Amethyst pierced through you, holding you still. “I asked you this before, but,” his voice was low, pulling you in, gooseflesh rippling up your backside. “What do you want?” 

You sputtered. “I asked you first!”

“No,” he corrected, his insufferable smirk curling back onto his lips. “You did not ask me anything, but only made assumptions.” 

“You always brim with this arrogance that you have bordered around you, walling off everyone.” You could not answer him, not with the desperation burning through you, torn between taking a step away or a step closer towards him. Suguru just watched you. “I ask you questions because I only wished to know you, but still you hold things to your chest. And your sense of duty is your excuse to keep anyone from coming close to you.” 

He dared to step closer, and you felt his heat pooling off of him. Any anger hinted from before was gone, his eyes scraping across the surface to pull apart your words. He was the moon and you were the tide, helpless with your highs and lows to be determined with whatever he would say. 

“I will ask you one more time,” –his voice was for you to hear alone, whisking the noise around you away– “what do you want?” 

The time you shared with Suguru came through flashes, memories also embedded, pouring a molten courage over to command you. It sparked with the words from Runa–he would never try anything. 

You stepped closer, your fingers trembling to hold onto his forearms, anchoring yourself to push onto your tiptoes, to touch your lips to his own. His mouth was soft and warm and it shuddered through you, your mind screaming for him to pull you in and never let you go. 

He held still and the moment stretched into an eternity, unreciprocated, shattering when your feet touched the ground again. Suguru was stunned, still watching you. 

And you ran.

Your embarrassment burned bright, igniting into your soles, your boots allowing your steps to grab onto the earth and propel yourself back towards the villa. Your mind continued to scream–you kissed him, you kissed Suguru, and it was everything you could admit you wanted, but your dilemma festered alongside a sense of indigeneity: it was something only you clearly wanted. 

You left Suguru behind, rooted by that damnable devotion. 

That thought shattered through you, shards of the fantasy that had been building now dug into you, encouraging you to flee. You ran until you saw the brothel, inside to closed doors to entertain paying patrons while the rest was emptied to enjoy the celebration. 

Your lungs burned as you continued up the stairs, your hand following the railing that wrapped upwards. Your clumsy steps returned you to the room that was prepared and you closed the door, your backside barring against as you sunk to the floor, struggling to catch your breath. 

I have to leave, your mind tacked together your next actions, adrenaline flaring a white nonsense in your mind, I will find Gojo and the queen and I will release him from this damn errands, and then I will leave and never, ever return–

There was a knock on the door that vibrated through you, pinning you to the oak floor. It did not falter and you groaned to stand, wiping your face with your sleeve, preparing to greet Yuki, or perhaps Choso, wondering where the hell you had run off to. 

But instead, you opened to see Suguru. 

His chest was heaving, his arms spread open and posted on both sides of the door frame to hold himself up. His hair was disheveled, windswept, and red stained his pale skin in blotches. He looked at you, his eyes bright, his smirk spreading across his sharp jaw. “You are,” he said between breaths, “faster than you look.” 

Your eyes widened. “Suguru…” 

He pushed through, reaching to pull you in with the tide, and you allowed yourself to be swept away, melting against his chest. He tilted his chin to reclaim your mouth with vigor, the heat from his palms burning through your silk as one hand followed your lower back to pull you closer, his other following up the curve of your spine and holding onto the nape of your neck, devouring you. 

Your heart sang, screaming as he pulled the air from your lungs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, desperate to be even closer, and he responded, his arms curling around your waist and lifting you enough for wide steps to walk you backwards until you felt the edge of the bed pressing into the back of your calves. 

Only then did Suguru break away from you, his mouth moving along your jawline back to the soft divot below your ear, his exhale tickling and his teeth nipping at your pulse. Your skin rose in response from a warmth that poured into your core, calling for him. 

“Suguru,” you breathed, taking in his sweat that mixed sinfully with the soap you gifted him, that heady scent that seized through you. 

“I’m here,” he murmured against your skin, pushing until you melted back into the mattress. He moved on top of you, his knee nudging your thighs apart to slot himself between. “I will not let you run away again.”

You blinked. He was teasing you, even now–! 

You opened your mouth to respond but he captured your lips again, his tongue curling to taste you, the sweetness from the chestnuts and wine. He found a rhythm that made you moan, and he pressed against you with a delicious weight that made your body burn. 

He smiled through the kiss as your fingers combed through his hair, pouring your passion into him. His fingers moved to peel away the top layer of silk until it puddled beneath you, pausing to admire how your curves pressed against the slip, how your nipples pebbled beneath. His tongue wet his lips. “Where do you want me to kiss you?” 

“Anywhere,” you reached for his collar, helping him pull his tunic over his head, the obsidian spill of his hair falling on his bare shoulders. “Everywhere,” you whispered with a kiss to his lips. 

Black swallowed the color of his eyes, his head dipping to place open-mouth kisses to your skin that was showing, pulling a heat that simmered to the surface. 

You writhed, you burned, you begged, “Suguru,” but he returned to swallow your sounds with another kiss that slow, searching, fluttering through your veins; your head was spinning. 

His fingers pulled at your hem to help you remove the silk slip. You were bare beneath him and his mouth moved over to worship your curves, a soft touch of his lips and tongue to taste. 

You gasped at the sensation and he pushed closer, coming up to find your lips while his fingers followed back to the divot between your thighs and slipping between your silken folds. Pleasure bloomed from his touch, his fingers searching until the softest sounds began to spill from your lips. 

He hummed into your mouth, his lips curling with his kiss. His touch was bold, sparking through you with his heedful circular motion against your bundle of nerves. 

It thrilled you. “Please, Suguru,” you gasped. 

“Not yet,” he murmured, his velvet voice tickling your skin. He kissed you again, his lips trailing beneath your jaw as his fingers continued to pull a pleasure that threatened to spill. You whined and Suguru shifted his weight, his hand moving with the craftful curl of his finger that pressed deep, sparking something that shimmered bright before your eyes. 

Your moan spilled loud and lewd from your kiss-swollen lips, your eyes glassy as he added another finger to the slick, sinful tandem, pumping in-and-out of you. It trilled the length of your spine, fluttering, pulling you towards a precipice that shuddered throughout. 

It was his kiss that followed that served as the catalyst, tipping you over to fall into the white-hot pleasure that wrenched the air from your lungs. He did not stop, but whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his fingers coaxing you through your peak while your heart stuttered against your chest, tears pearling in the corners of your eyes. 

Suguru pressed another kiss to your cheek, grounding you again, and you looked over to watch him retrieve his hand, his tongue cleaning his fingers and his smirk returning to his mouth. It was a salacious pulse that spilled onto the sheets, and you grabbed for him, pulling him close for your tangy taste that now stained his lips. 

Your fingers trembled to follow the smooth plains of his chest, tracing the scars that carved silver against his skin. Your touch stumbled down towards his heavy press against his slacks, and you paused, blushing at his size. 

He caught your elbow, he pulled you close. “We go with your pace,” he promised, kissing your lips, your cheek. “I am in no hurry.” 

You pushed him to lay back, helping to loosen the laces, and his thumbs hooked in the waistband to pull them lower. It was your turn to admire his chiseled chest and abdomen, the lines that cut into his hips. 

Suguru helped move you to straddle him, your plush thighs caging him to the bed and his length flushed, pressing upwards against his stomach. He pushed up to wrap his arm around your waist, the other pressed back to balance on the bed. He buried his face into your chest with soft kisses that tickled. 

You squirmed, your arousal spilling, and moved to lift your hips. He moved his other arm around to help line himself with your entrance, and you were slow, shaking to ease yourself onto him; Suguru molded into you, pressing against your seams.

He held onto you, his face pressing into your neck with a loan groan that reverberated throughout. You grasped at his shoulders, panting, adjusting to his girth. Suguru tilted his head up to look at you, the same careful consideration as always, and you kissed him.

It rekindled your pleasure, your boldness that burned for him, and you slowly rocked your hips against him. He groaned again, falling back onto the bed, his large hands dimpling to hold onto your hips. His neck bobbed as he watched you, a rose dusting on his cheeks that spilled onto his neck and chest; you relished his reaction when your thighs squeezed, your pace quickening.

His hands encouraged your movement, and his hips lifted to meet with your motion. You felt it building again, curling at the base of your spine, a flutter of your walls around him. His palm moved to the inside of your thigh, until his thumb could press into you with the same circular motion as before that allowed the stars to burst bright before your eyes. 

You nearly cried from the euphoria that twisted through you, pulsing and clenching tight to pull Suguru after, his brow furrowed with a guttural groan. Your head was empty and he pushed up to catch you, holding you until your heart settled, until your breathing was an exchange with his inhale to your exhale. 

“Move for me.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline, pulling away. You rolled onto your side to watch him pour water from the basin and wrung out a cloth, returning to clean the sticky spill between your thighs. 

You giggled with his concentration, his careful touch. He blew softly against your skin and it rose in response. “That tickles!” 

He was still flushed, his smile boyish. “I know.” 

He wiped himself off before he returned to the bed. Suguru then pulled you against his chest, the bare entanglement of limbs knitting into one another and holding you close like before, until your heartbeats found a familiar rhythm with one another, until your breathing was an intimate exchange. 

taglist: taglist: @sugurubabe @elliesndg @paprikaquinn @yeehawbrothers @witchbybirth @thenameswinter99

arcie's navi | jjk masterlist the salver & the sword masterlist

[paprikaquinn]

the salver & the sword

paring: Suguru Geto x reader summary: Prince Satoru Gojo sends his trusted general, and friend, across the kingdom to retrieve the girl who saved him when he was a boy. You loathe the idea of having your life uprooted on the whim of some faraway prince, and General Suguru Geto is determined to see through his prince's command, by whatever means. word count: 4.5k+ warnings: AFAB reader, noncon elements, bloodshed, death in graphic detail, facing your demons and working through the trauma medieval style, and some more pining author's note: It is not Wednesday, but this chapter was a doozy. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter V - Unguarded Moment

“Shiba is almost a two day walk from here.”

The kitchen was thrumming with morning life. Hana and Nobu were vying for attention, revitalized after a long night’s sleep and desperate to hold onto their oji for a little longer. Runa was at the stovetop while you, Kento, and Suguru sat at the table in the center, balanced on top of the stools brought to it. 

“Yuki is still set up out there. She probably would not mind you staying at her place.” Kento continued, setting Nobu down. 

Suguru hummed, noncommittal, and you glanced over to see a rose flush that darkened on his cheeks, though his eyes never left the kids: the little boy spotted his sister and, with determined toddler legs, bolted towards her. Hana shrieked her returning charge only to be halted by Suguru, his tactful swoop to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder; she shrieked again, but this time with delight. 

Kento was unfazed. “From there, Hoshi is only another day and a half, two at most.” 

His words struck you deep. You were little more than halfway there, and soon it would be over: you would return to rebuild your life and the general would remain at his prince’s side. 

You felt a grief for what was coming, despite telling yourself it was all that you wanted. 

Small hands were patting at your knees, pulling you back. You looked down into the bright eyes of Nobu and reached to pull him up onto your lap, allowing him to sit at the table. He watched his mother walk over, a cloth wrapped around the handle to carry the kettle, and she poured hot water into the saucers placed, the tea leaves rising to steep.

“You know, after you decline Satoru’s,” –her lips curled upwards– “gracious offer, perhaps you could come back and visit us.” Another glint of mischief. “The springtime is lovely.” 

Nobu and Hana turned their attention to you, their excitement spilling, unaware of the weight of their mother’s words. You dared to look again at Suguru, watching the celerity of his emotions wash over–a curiosity, perhaps hopefulness–and it held you still. When you blinked it was gone, and his stoicism back in place. Your blood rose to the surface, warming you, while your tongue withered to ash in your mouth. You could only offer a meek smile and nod to acknowledge Runa. 

She arched her eyebrow at you, but said nothing further. 

What food that could be spared was packed away and added onto Mimiko. Your new belt was cinched around your waist with the sheath snug against your side. Bittersweet goodbyes were exchanged; Runa offered a smile as Nobu and Hana hugged your knees; to the side, a subtle severity was shared between Kento and Suguru.

And it began again, with Suguru taking the lead to guide Mimiko’s steps while you shadowed the other side, your exhale bursts of white above. The morning chill stretched throughout the day as the sun remained tuck behind the gray shroud, allowing a mist that nipped and stuck to the skin. Walking was the better option as the motion garnered some warmth with your steps. 

You shivered still and Suguru halted the horse, coming to wrap his cloak around you. “I stay warm,” he murmured, avoiding your eyes. 

You already knew this from his every touch that simmered through to the marrow of your bones. You thanked him and held it close, enjoying his heady scent and how it mixed with the soap you made him; it warmed your cheeks. “I can understand why you return here every year.” 

Suguru pulled at Mimiko and she began to trot after him. “They are good people.” He paused, his jawline tightening. “Kento mentioned to me that he noticed some stray Ryomen soldiers coming through about a week ago. I told him about the skirmishes in the northern villages, about what happened to your father.” 

You remembered his visceral reaction with that, and it knotted behind your ribs. “Do you think Sukuna…” You could not stomach the thought. 

“I am not sure.” Uncertainty flickered between his brows, another thought held to his chest. “I think we try to get to Hoshi quickly and call for an audience with the queen.” He hesitated again, but settled on silence. 

“Of course,” you agreed. I just want to be done with that damn Gojo, was your first thought, followed with the reminder again that your time with Suguru was coming to an end. 

The gray remained and the clouds grew darker, night rolling over with thunder. Droplets began to fall, cold and heavy, and Suguru scouted alongside the river. The road ahead split with one way that curved upwards and onwards, stacked on top of stone, while the other path remained level, curving off into the limestone that jutted out. 

It led to an entrance that was carved into the stone, a darkness bleeding through, but you followed after Suguru who seemed so surefooted. You waited in silence until you saw a spark of light, rocks circling around a kindling that filled the space with an amber light. 

As you unpacked, Suguru shared about the ancestry, how these hideouts had been created when the kingdoms first split, hundreds of years ago. They served as reprieves for Tengen soldiers, serving as shelter and some even having a spring further back that was dug up and led back out into the river flow. 

“We used these during the war.” There was a sconce carved into the wall and he grabbed the torch to light from the fire, placing it back. “Ryomen soldiers did not know they existed and it allowed us to hide in plain sight.” 

You nodded, still numb from the chill, and looked to a long branch that had been set on the stones. You peeled off the cloak and hung it over, returning to unpack the mat, the blankets and furs. 

Suguru was still standing, aglow from the fire casting over while rain now sheeted the entrance. “Try and get warm,” he decided, moving to grab the cloak and adjusting his fur mantle over. “I am going to try and find some cover for Mimiko.”

It was dark. It was raining. Your heart was begging for him to stay and those emotions were on display. 

He paused, his expression softening as he moved closer to you, his usual hesitation gone as he reached to pinch your chin between his thumb and finger. “I will not be far. I will not be long.” he promised, holding your eyes. “Stay by the fire and keep your knife with you.” 

You nodded again, watching him disappear into the black night where the thunder rumbled along with silent flashes of white that lagged between. Unease still flitted along your nerves, but you did as he said, moving to pull off your dress and hang it over the branch. Your chemise was dry enough and you curled beneath the furs, keeping the knife close at hand. 

And you waited for Suguru by the fire, bleary-eyed. 

+ + + +

It came without warning: white smoke that billowed around you, rolling with a heat that was heavy, suffocating. You could see your home being consumed, the flames reaching to lick against your skin. 

You tried to run but your legs were rooted at the sight. You opened your mouth to scream, your lungs aching for air, and the action jolted through you–a muffled gasp–your eyes opening to see the ceiling of the cave above you. 

A hand was pressed over your mouth, the palm clammy. There was a crushing scent of sweat and rye weighing on top of you. “If you scream, I will gut you,” came a warning, ugly and rasped. 

Fear halted you, your eyes straining to focus on the silhouettes being cast by the embers of the fire. You saw three more men were around with two posted at the entrance of the cave and another who was watching as his companion breathed on your face.

One of the men guarding looked over. “I’ll help ya keep her quiet if I can go next.”

Your stomach lurched, your eyes frantic, flitting back to where the other one was standing still. He looked frayed, his hand poised around the hilt of his sheathed sword. “We should just kill her and go.” He swallowed. “He will come back for her.” 

Suguru. 

“He is already dead. They said they would handle the demon.” The man on top of you grunted, moving against you to push your thighs apart. His scarred face loomed close as he rucked your chemise around your hips, the stitches tearing. “Besides, she’ll keep quiet. Won’t you kitten?”  

He is already dead. It gutted you, twisting in your belly. I will be next. That realization raced through you, alighting your tendons–a call to action–and you grasped at the knife at your side. You could not pull it from the sheath but used the momentum to smash the hilt across his ugly mug with a sickening crunch. 

Blood and spittle sprayed from your blow, stunning him, and as he swayed on top of you, your adrenaline urged you to sink your teeth into his hand. He howled, wheeling away, and you twisted from underneath, scrambling to claw into the earth to get away. 

One of the men laughed. “She’s a fighter–!”

He clamped around your ankle, his other hand pressing on your back and wrenching you upright to face him again. Someone else moved to grab your wrists, and you looked up to his ugly sneer as he balled his injured hand, the back of his fist cracking across your face once, twice–stars bursting white in front of your eyes, a pained hiccup with the taste of copper. 

You were dazed, your head spinning to see double until you realized it was the first man who offered to help that now covered your mouth, your split lip burning. He held your wrists in his other hand while the ugly man moved to kneel onto your chest, pinning you to the ground. You looked to see he was holding your knife above you, the glint of steel in the fire’s light as he pulled it from the sheath. 

There was a dark bruise already forming on his marred jaw with a smear of blood across. “You will regret that,” he seethed, stabbing the blade into the dirt by your head, a sinister smile curling when you flinched. He reached to pull at the drawstrings of his slacks. “I’m going to fuck you first, and then he will have his turn,” –red stained his teeth, and his accomplice sniggered above you– “then I am going to fuck your with your little dagger.” 

Fear shattered your mind, your heart seizing in your chest, but you could only choke on your screams. 

The other voice at the entrance called over. “I want my turn to–” 

It died on his tongue as the purple-eyed demon spilled from the shadows, carrying his blade with a grace that left a scarlet stain in his wake. 

The man who was holding your wrists yelped, falling backwards, while you and the ugly man twisted to watch a head roll, a body toppling after. 

The man who was standing panicked, fumbling to unsheathe his broadsword despite his hold earlier. Suguru noticed, moving to meet him with Nanako and slicing him in half, a wet splatter of his innards falling to the dirt. 

You looked up to the man who had you pinned. His face twisted, stunned from the bloody spectacle, and you dug your heels into the ground to buck your hips enough to topple him over. You pulled your knife from the earth and swung wild, cutting through to his skin. He howled as the blood poured. 

Suguru snapped his attention towards you. His eyes were ablaze and his face flushed, crimson staining his cheeks and spilling into the rivulets from the outside rain. “Run,” he was loud, echoing through the cave.

You could not move, but clung to the dagger, enrapt with a sick satisfaction that curled within you as you watched Suguru moving towards your assailant. Another deadly swipe cleaved off his head and it fell from his shoulders, his horror forever frozen on his face. 

Suguru reached for you, his touch commanding as he pulled you to stand behind him. He squared off towards the last man standing, who now trembled with the weight of his sword drawn. Suguru pressed forward, disarming him and pressing the tip of Nanako into the soft divot as the base of his throat, pushing until his back was against the cave wall. 

The sword was an extension of Suguru, intertwined, and the gemstone embedded was glowing in the fire’s light. “Why are you here?” His voice was low, lethal, but with an eerie calm to his question.  

The man held up his hands, his eyes pleading. “T-there is a bounty for Prince Gojo’s betrothed!” He was shaking at the blade’s point, his words stammering, spluttering. “Her head f-for s-some gold!” 

His words shuddered through you, this fate that was decided outside of your control, something you did not even want to begin with. Your fists balled tight at your sides. 

“For what reason?” Suguru pressed even closer, his brow furrowed with his focus. 

A bead of blood trickled and the man winced, tears rolling down his cheeks. “What reason is it always?”

It was plain in his eyes. The bounty was another declaration of Sukuna’s insatiable wont for bloodshed, for war. 

“Did you set fire to my home?” Your throat was dry and you stepped closer to look at the man. 

When he could not hold your gaze, Suguru flicked his wrist, the tip digging a little deeper. “The lady has asked you a question.” 

“The others did it!” He cried out, now unable to wince away for fear of slitting his own throat. “But, w-we killed them because we realized…” he licked his lips, a new panic searing over with what he shared, “...for the bounty, it required physical proof that you were dead.”

Her head for some gold. You felt dumbfounded. There was no justice in knowing why it had happened, only clarity for the cause: it was the greed of Ryomen that continued to haunt your steps leading back to Hoshi. 

Suguru, unsatisfied, sought for the name to be spoken out loud. “Who sent you?”

The man looked back at Suguru, a weary understanding of the finality with the question. A sense of acceptance swept over him and he held still. “We both know… I cannot answer that.” 

Suguru nodded, his movement fluid as he pulled away for a singular swipe across. The man’s head fell back with a dull thud to the cave floor, another crimson spray and show of ivory bones as the body crumpled after. 

The adrenaline petered away with the slowing rain outside, with the sound of your breath and the low crackle of the embers that were still burning. Your senses gathered again, your head sore and your tongue touching your bottom lip, licking away the blood. There was the overwhelming aroma of iron and sweat and death that swirled around, and for a moment, you thought you would be ill. 

He called to you, pulling you back. “Are you hurt?” 

The demon was gone and you saw Suguru with the same careful consideration he always showed you. He wiped his blade on his slacks, wincing when he tried to lift his arm to sheath it. He staggered, his cloak opening to show the red bleeding through his tunic. 

“Suguru!” You dropped the knife and moved toward him, your own pain forgotten. “I will be fine, but you are injured–!” 

Nanako clattered to the floor as Suguru fell against you. Your arms wrapped around him, mindful of the blood stains but struggling to hold him upright. “Please, please,” you whispered, a rekindled fear bubbling to the surface, “I need you to move, to lay down so I can help you. Can you take a few steps for me…?” 

“...for you…” he murmured, almost slurred. He leaned heavily into you, his face nesting into the curve of your neck. 

You focused on your steps, ignoring the tickle of his breath against your skin, and helped him to his knees by the fire pit. You moved to straighten the blanket and the furs, careful to help him lay on his backside. 

Blood was soaked through his tunic and cape, desperation curdling under your skin as your fingers flitted across his chest. He winced with your soft touch and you pulled back, grabbing for your knife, your mind whirring with the possible fatality that could be piercing through as you cut through the fabric. The smooth plains of his chest were decorated with silver scars, stained red, and your eyes flitted over, searching, realizing the blood spilled not his alone. 

Then why… you saw the shallow gash on his side, inflamed, with a residue that framed around. You looked up to his pallid complexion, now beaded with sweat, and his black hair sticking to his skin; you pressed your wrist to his forehead and he burned. 

Your fear vanished, a blistering, darker realization pulling up; you moved back to pick up one of the discarded sheaths to smell the pungent odor of parsnips. Crushed hemlock, shi no ha. 

How long do I…? You were quick to set aside the new hysteria of questions you could not get an answer for, but instead tore through the satchels of the dead: clean clothes and strips of cloth, a flask of whiskey and a skillet and little else.

The torch in the sconce still flickered, and you grabbed it to light your steps as you moved deeper into the cave, following the bubbling sounds of the spring. You emptied the flask to fill half-way again, returning for the pouch of ash to mix. 

You moved back to Suguru, cradling his head into your lap. “You must drink this,” you whispered into his hairline. 

His eyes fluttered open enough and your fingers held the nap of his neck, coaxing the mixture down his throat, the black mix spilling from the corners of his mouth and staining his pale cheeks. Suguru coughed, choking down the rest with a low groan before his head fell back into your lap. 

Please, your prayer remained unfinished and you pressed your lips against his hairline before you laid his head down to rest.  

Time felt fleeting. The pages of your father’s book fluttered open, your hands trembling to gather the slices of turmeric for a slow grind with your pestle and half a mortar. You added drops of water to clump the powdered substance, keeping it from spilling over the broken edges. 

Eucalyptus, lavender or even honey, your brain listed what you did not have before you remembered the crystal vial, adding drops of the rose oil to the mixture.  

As you cleaned the gash, wiping away the residual grime, the kettle boiled on top of the fire. You grabbed a cloth to dip into the water and wrung it out before patting the mixture onto it, pressing it to his side.  

Suguru groaned, more muted with his sleep, and when you finished, your hands moved to push aside his hair. You reached for another cloth, wiping his brow, following the bridge of his nose and cheeks, to the curve of his lips. Your heart seized in your throat, choking on your unshed tears. 

Crying cannot save him. “Please,” your voice was hoarse, a whispered plea close to his skin. “Suguru, I cannot lose you.” 

It spilled so easy from your lips, and you watched him, hoping your words would stir him awake. Instead, his face remained serene and your exhaustion pulled a deep breath from your aching lungs.

Nothing else could be done. All you could do was wait. 

The unknown still lurked in the night outside of the cave, and you remembered Nanako. You staggered to your feet, picking up the sword; she felt so heavy despite how Suguru handled her with ease, your hands so small in the grip that was formed for his large hands. 

You balanced the blade in your palm face up, bringing her close. “I do not wish to steal you away.” You were desperate, whispering into the crossguard while the iridescent glimmer from the pommel cast over from the fire. “I only wish to borrow your strength to protect your handler.” 

You dragged the sword back, the edge following the crease of your hand and your blood staining the edge. It was a stinging sensation that burned through you, and you laid her down before wrapping your hand. You moved back alongside Suguru, pulling Nanako close.

And you tried to sleep. 

+ + + +

Nanako did not hum or vibrate, but your sleep was fitful as every sound pulled you away with a sudden, fervid alert running through your veins. The smell of decay would not allow rest and you rose before the dawn, leaving Suguru to slumber, still pale, listless other than the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

His forehead was still warm to the touch, but his pulse was regular; hope flickered in the corners of your mind as you cleaned and changed his poultice.

The extra scraps of cloth were boiled and hung to dry. You looked over the men slain, your eyes following to see the gray daylight, the air dewy and cold from the rain. You found a scabbard that could carry Nanako, pulling it over your shoulder, and decided to walk the perimeter outside the cave, finding the other two men mentioned: dead, face first in the wet dirt. 

You saw the beginning of a makeshift shelter and Suguru’s fur mantle that was trampled and muddied. This is where they found him, you thought, crouching, looking over the dark blood that painted the earth. Mimiko was nowhere to be found, and from your backside, you felt a low vibration against the length of your spine. 

You could hear Suguru. I can feel her vibrate when danger is near.

On the rocks that sloped upwards, perched, were two pairs of yellow eyes that watched. You struggled to pull out Nanako, standing and raising her above your head. The wolves balked at your size and scurried off. 

They will come back. You looked over the dead men and remembered how Runa shared with you, in detail, the way she removed the bodies of the Ryomen soldiers. 

A fire would not be reasonable. It could draw the wrong attention. Her voice echoed in your head. 

You needed to remain unseen, to allow Suguru the time he needed to heal.

Nanako pulse with your grip, your palm still sore from your blood offering, but she allowed you to cut through to the bone until they were a more manageable size. You then picked up one of the broadswords and broke through the matted dirt, returning to carve through the other dead men in the cave, to retrieve the skillet to shovel. 

Though it took most of the day, it was gratifying to dig deep, dumping the men piece-by-piece and filling the pit with the dismantled limbs that gleamed in the clotted ruby red blood. You buried them all, knowing it was not deep enough to keep whatever carnivores away. With your last bit of strength, you stacked what rocks you could move on top of the mass grave. 

Dusk brought its velvet tones of purple and blue to clash along the burnt horizon. You saw Suguru was still sleeping and you fed another log, kindling the fire to mask the sickly sweet scent that lingered with the bloodstains left behind. 

You looked down at your ruined dress, the chemise torn beneath, streaked with the mess that came with disposing of the dead. You went through the spare clothes, deciding on dark slacks and a cotton shirt, and you grabbed your bar of soap, moving back towards the spring. 

The water was cold but soothing to your bruised wrists, your split lip and tender cheek. You washed yourself raw, until you could no longer feel the lingering touch of unwanted hands clawing at your skin. 

The shirt was large, and you cinched your waist with your belt and the knife. As you rolled the hems of the pants and pulled back, you heard your name echo, faint.

“Suguru?” Your voice was rasped, your legs pulling you back towards the front. 

Relief poured over you as you watched him push himself upright, his black hair mussed and a godly glow from the amber light of the fire. He looked over to you, a smile on his cracked lips and the shadows pulling across his sharp features. “You stayed.” 

You could have cried. “Of course I did.” You said this with absolution, a warmth pooling into your face, but you could not pull away your eyes, though your boldness faltered. “You save me, Suguru. I had to save you.”  

He hummed. There was a subtle change caught in the flickering fire, his eyes falling away to look over the cave. You wished to close the space, to touch him, but instead you pulled out the food that was packed, passing it along with his canteen that you filled with spring water. 

Suguru touched your wrist and it rooted you, his fingers careful to trace the bandage you wrapped around your hand. “What happened?” 

Your heart pulsed against your skin, your smile proud as you showed your hand to him. “I made an offering to keep you safe.” 

You returned Nanako, ablaze under his amethyst eyes that watched you anew as you shared about what happened while he slept. The subtle change shifted into an admiration that glimmered while he watched you move to pull away the poultice, checking to see how his skin knitted together. 

“Thank you,” he said when you finished. You balked. “For everything.” 

Another shirt was found and you remained seated by the fire as Suguru moved to the spring to wash up. The flames danced and your fingertips were still prickling from the warmth of his skin, begging to touch him again. 

You looked to watch him walk back, and you could not stop your offer to brush his hair, but relished in the color that returned to his cheeks. He moved closer to you and you took your time, the black silk spilling between your fingers, holding onto the rose scent that stayed with the ivory. 

When you finished, his fingers caught your wrist again, a teasing smile on his lips. “I now smell like you.” 

You burned as he pulled you closer, moving back towards the fire and its warmth. “Rest now,” he murmured, pulling you to curl against his chest. The furs held onto his heady smell and it called to your heart, now bursting at your seams. “You have done everything for me, but now you need to rest.” 

Fear flickered in your heavy head. “But what if something happens?” 

“Then I will wake you, and we will handle it together.” His arms wrapped around you, pulling you even closer to feel the thrum of his heart beating against his chest. You felt his lips touching the top of your head with his whisper, “I promise.”

And you finally slept. 

taglist: @sugurubabe @elliesndg @paprikaquinn @yeehawbrothers @witchbybirth

arcie's navi | jjk masterlist the salver & the sword masterlist

[paprikaquinn]

the salver & the sword

paring: Suguru Geto x reader summary: Prince Satoru Gojo sends his trusted general, and friend, across the kingdom to retrieve the girl who saved him when he was a boy. You loathe the idea of having your life uprooted on the whim of some faraway prince, and General Suguru Geto is determined to see through his prince's command, by whatever means. word count: 4.4k+ warnings: AFAB reader, more missed moments, just sprinkling some seasonings and placing you back into this crockpot that is slow burn author's note: Sorry this chapter was delayed. I have been rewatching jjk and Nanami crept into my brain. I always knew he was going to show up but I was unsure as to how. Also, Runa belongs to @itbmojojoejo (thank you for letting me borrow her) from their amazing story Crimes Of Passion (another fandom, but I don't care). I just fell in love with this OC and thought, "Yes. This is perfect. This is exactly what Nanami needs." Also, oji is uncle in Japanese. Enjoy! 💜

Chapter IV ~ No Hesitation

At first your sorrow held over like a heavy fog, a slow dissipation as you settled into a routine with the days that followed. 

The general was a man who seemed to wake before the sun, tending to Mimiko while you remained curled in the furs, hazy blinks into the sunlight spilling through the trees. You helped pack up the camp, saddling everything onto the horse, and Suguru would take the lead while you walked along the other side, just as before. He kept Mimiko at a steady pace, allowing you time to unfurl from your silence, from your lingering grief that grew lighter with your steps. 

He asked you simple questions which allowed you to tell memories of your father, and you found it soothing to share your history, the story of how Atsumeru was passed down. It was an endeavor began by your grandmother, who was a renowned healer across the sea. She taught your father everything he knew and when he came of age, she gifted it to him, telling him to go and make his own name. 

It was a dam broken, and you continued on to share about your mother, something that was both familiar but foreign on your tongue, a pain more muted after all the time that passed but never forgotten as her very fierceness was embedded into your blood. She had fled the Ryomen Kingdom after Sukuna’s violent claimant of the throne, and was just a wounded refugee that your father came across. 

He cared for her and as she healed, she could not help but fall in love with him. 

“After she died, I knew I wanted to follow after my grandmother and my father.” Your cheeks were warm from your overshare, and you peered over at Suguru. 

He was watching you, a pain flickering over his features before he dared ask. “What happened to her?” 

His thoughtfulness touched you, though that pain was not as raw as it once was, just another event in that lifetime ago, back at Hoshi. It was something else that fell into place, creating this pathway that seemingly carved its way back again.

“She was cut by a shi no ha during the battle of Hoshi. It was not deep, of course, so she and my father focused on helping those more grievously injured.” 

Your eyes stayed forward, hiding the shine of unshed tears, habitual now with your current heartache, but you noticed the tension that rippled over him. “The death blade.” It was a statement confirming what you shared. 

Hemlock grew rampant in the north and was poisonous when ingested. The Ryomen soldiers would ground it and line the insides of the scabbards and sheaths with it, a tactic that allowed a fatality with shallow swipes of their steel. This method allowed a slower, painful reaction, with stomach cramps and a rapid pulse, a slight fever that could be ignored until it would scorched through, boiling the marrow of your bones. 

And then, it was too late. 

It was new to the battlefield, nothing to be prepared for. Your father did not realize what was happening until he noticed how her eyes dilated, black swallowing the color, and her jaw locked, saliva frothing at the corners of her lips. It was a chain reaction all around, plaguing those who thought they survived the battle, and his supplies were sorely limited.

Nothing could be done to save them all. 

“I now try to always be prepared,” you admitted. 

Suguru was quiet for a moment. “The charcoal?” 

You nodded, a warmth with the thought that he recalled the pouch that you tucked away along with the other herbs purchased. “You can mix it with water and it helps prevent it from being absorbed from the stomach and into the body,” you confirmed. “And besides, I need to take whatever I can find these days.” 

He was watching you, his stoicism held on like a guard with glints of unsaid emotions that came and went with the flutter of your pulse, a silence that now curled into your abdomen. You allowed him the time, as you realized he took a conscientious effort to gather his thoughts. 

“I believe you will make your own name,” he said, “just as your father had.” 

The sincerity in his tone prickled your skin and you looked ahead again, your face burning. “That is what I hope. I know I can start again–I have my father’s book, I have the few mementos of my mother, and I still have that pouch of silver.” 

Suguru only hummed his acknowledgement, but you caught the smile touching his lips. 

The days were spent in this way, a conversation revived that allowed you a raw honesty you never shared before, but it was something you wished to give him. Suguru still felt like an enigma, unreadable, and at the same time, he returned that candor with any question you dared to ask him. 

For Suguru, you found it to be an even exchange, with his ceaseless patience shown to you in every situation. There was no hesitation because of your sex, but he would share tasks, like capturing smaller wildlife of the forest: he showed you how to strip away the fur and cut the meat into strips, placing them over the fire to dry out. He was not one to bloat you with praise, just his low murmur when you mastered whatever was shown.

You preened from that attention.

He gifted you his hunting knife which felt comically big for your hand, but he showed you how to keep a firm hold and cut some rope to knot around your waist, a place for its sheath. His hands were careful and the warmth of his palms bled through your dress, fluttering into the pit of your stomach. 

“So you can protect yourself,” he told you, “if I am not there.” 

That struck you deep, rattling you with the thought, if I am not there, and it spilled past your lips before you could stop it. “Then I will pray to the gods that you always are.” 

The unsaid flared in his eyes, a conflicting desperation to press onward or remain rooted in the moment, and you were the one to pull away from him, your disappointment carving into your belly. He needed a distraction, it seemed, and you allowed it. 

Autumn allowed berries to blossom, and you showed Suguru the difference between the edible ones and the poisonous ones. You held on your skirt to carry, picking until your fingers stained and washing them in the river that followed along. It was a treat to share until you both ate your fill. 

Still he remained guarded, still deliberate with his every action towards you, and it left you craving for something unknown in return. You found yourself mindful of the setting sun with the stretch of shadows, eager to help set up the campsite. Your patience petered away until the blackened blue sky extended overhead and the stars glittered bright above, and only then would he reach for you, pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms around to hold you close.

It lulled the disappointment, the craving that wound tight within you, scattering away into the solace he unknowingly created at night. His steady breathing and his warmth were comforting in a way you wished you could dig your fingers into and never let go. 

But the sun would rise again and pull him away. You would wake, alone, to repeat the day. 

It was not anything you experienced before. Other suitors would come by and speak with your father about your “need” for a husband, a good man, but he would chuckle and tell them same thing, “It is her decision. Only she will know.” Time again it proved that whatever you were looking for did not exist within them, and you wondered if it could ever be found.

And now you were walking across the Tengen Kingdom with the purple-eyed demon. It felt that you still did not know him, truly, though his actions showed you one man versus his legend known throughout. Your curiosity knitted onto your features, stealing bolder glances across Mimiko.

The amber hues of the coming dusk washed over Suguru, illuminating him–his eyes showed golden in the light and the black silk spill of his hair gleamed, the sun reflecting Nanako and her gemstone that glittered in her hilt over his shoulder. 

Worthy, returned the thought, followed by the intrusive: He is so very handsome. 

“What about you, Suguru?” 

Autumn decorated the road with leaves of burnt orange and red, the crisp air returning as the sun curved to tuck away. You had been bared to him and felt desperate to understand the man beneath the myth, but hid your eagerness with your almost teasing tone, beneath your sly smile. 

“What about me?” He asked, his eyebrow arching, daring you. 

You swallowed. “I wish you to tell me more of who you are.” 

“But I do not have much to tell.”

His smile spoke otherwise, and you continued. “You are the most fearsome swordsman of the Queensguard, and you have nothing to tell?” Your palm pressed to Mimiko to guide your steps without looking, to tilt your head towards him with a mocking pitch. “The very same man who wields a legendary blade that chose him?” 

You relished in the rose tones that flushed his face, the soft smile that touched his lips. “I do not believe that you do not have much to tell. Nothing to share outside of your lore?” You hesitated. “No lady of the court that awaits your return?” 

That thought had been twisting in your stomach, but you were determined to remain coy, flippant as you waited for him to pick out his words. When he looked to you, the shadow cast cut away the gold glow, his purple eyes pinning you. “My life is my duty to the queen and to the prince. No one stays very long, and I cannot blame them.” 

It was sombering, and it left you burning with questions you could not stomach to ask– a feeling that replaced the dull ache with something that seemed unattainable. For Suguru, a general’s devotion was his life, just as being a salver was your own, and to ask him for anything else… 

You broke away from his gaze, biting into your bottom lip, caging your thoughts behind your teeth. 

“Besides,” –you dared to look back to see him smirking, and it flared through you– “who would wait around when I am sent on a fool’s errand?” 

Suguru was never what you were expecting, and your laughter spilled in a way that felt absurd, pulling a string of merriment that pearled tears in the corners of your eyes. He was pleased with your reaction. 

“General Suguru Geto.”

You froze, the voice cutting through. Suguru looked ahead to see a man walking up from a pathway with a fishing net over one shoulder and carrying a basket brimming with mackerel. “I had thought the gods bless us,” the stranger seemed dour, unsettling, “but I see it was only to prepare for you coming across my path unexpectedly.”  

A smile stretched across Suguru’s jawline, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and you exhaled, unaware you had been holding your breath. “We both know you do not believe in destiny in that way, Kento Nanami.” 

“Perhaps.” He was sunkissed, his golden hair slicked back and the gleam of his perspiration pulling his cotton shirt to his form, to his broad shoulders. The severity etched onto his sunken features softened as he came closer, his hazel eyes flitting from you and settling onto Suguru. 

“Either way, here you stand now,” he gestured, a smile curving on his lips, dimpling into his cheek. “Come, follow me home to see Runa and the kids. We can eat and you can tell me about whatever Satoru has you doing now.” 

+ + + +

Kento Nanami had grown up in Hoshi, serving alongside Suguru and Prince Gojo during the war. He found his notoriety when he led a small militant group, cutting westward to ambush and kill the infamous major general, Mahito, which resulted in crippling the Ryomen force. The tandem continued, allowing Suguru to press north, Nanako in hand, beating them back across the border and ending the war. 

You were already aware of these tales from the ballads and songs about the purple-eyed demon and the valiant fight that echoed throughout the Tengen Kingdom, their efforts forever immortalized. 

What you did not know was the kinship that was forged during this. You also learned that Suguru Geto, and sometimes the prince, would come and visit in the springtime, and how Kento’s children referred to him as oji.

You followed along in a daze, the road ahead splitting and a stone path weaving away into an enclave of trees. A wooden fence bordered around, providing ample room for livestock where some goats and a cow grazed. Suguru unhitched Mimiko so she could join, and you helped him carry what you had back towards the cabin aglow, smoke curling up from the chimney. 

A woman came to the doorway, tall and lean with a copper spill of curls and blue eyes that pierced through you. “Suguru,” she called his name with a warmth, a fondness that touched her lovely features. “We were not expecting you so soon.” 

“This is my wife, Runa.” Kento moved towards the steps of the wooden porch that stretched around, setting down the basket before wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close for a kiss. You felt your blood simmer and looked away, spotting two more sets of eyes peering from around her skirts, a little girl and a little boy. 

“Off with you!” Runa pushed Kento back, still smiling. “You smell like fish!” 

“Oji!” The little girl burst forward, unabashed, her eyes golden, with a wildfire of strawberry curls and freckles strewn across her nose and cheeks. 

Suguru crouched on command to scoop her up and she giggled as he tossed her upwards. “Hana, I want you to meet my friend,” he said, settling her onto his hip before turning towards you. 

Her eyes widened with your name, a toothy grin on display when she asked if you belonged to her oji. You wished for the earth to swallow you, but Runa was quick to react, sweeping Hana back into her arms and chiding her– “You little minx, you cannot ask that.” 

“But you said that he needed a lady friend!”

The warm tones clashed with Runa’s hair, panic glinting in her eyes as she ushered the little girl back inside, along with the basket of fish. You could not look at Suguru, but focused on the other pair of eyes–blue like his mother’s. He stepped forward on unsteady legs, his hands reaching to grab your skirts with a shy smile as he looked up at you. 

Kento reached to ruffle his golden hair. “And this is my youngest, Nobu.”

“Hello.” You kneeled to be at his eye level and his skin stained pink, his smile dimpling his face. “Do you want to come inside with me?” 

He nodded and you took his hand, allowing the men their reunion. You followed after Runa and Hana to the kitchen that was wide and spacious. A table was placed in the center where the basket spilled, and the stove burned bright with a warmth that filled the room. 

For you, it felt like a long-lost home. The children played on the floor while you followed Runa’s command, taking the spare knife to remove the heads and split the fish in half while she tended to the broth and rice. Hana offered her services to spot and pluck the pin-bones and Nobu watched with a wide-eyed wonder. 

Runa was effortless, a sharp wit that had you tittering, a boldness that allowed her prying to understand the guests her husband brought home. “What brings you both out here?” 

Your embarrassment prickled over and you cleared your throat. “Uh, the prince commanded for me to be fetched by…” you faltered on his name, “the general, so that I can become his wife.” 

Runa stopped to look at you, aghast, her empathy bringing her brows together and her lips downturned. “Poor Utahime. I see that Satoru remains as rash as always,” she tsked. “And pulling you into it, you poor thing.” 

You giggled again. “I feel bad for Suguru, if anything, as he has been given the duty to return with me.” 

“I see we have nothing better to do with a decorated general,” she began to stir the broth again, shaking her head. “So what will you do?”

It was only fair for her to ask. Runa did not know you. “I have to go and let the prince know that I will not marry him.” 

It was her turn to laugh, a warm raucous that filled the air along with the gustful smells of supper. “I like you already.” 

The men came inside as dinner was served, the children eating their fill while you listened to more of the stories shared about Suguru and Satoru and Kento, with mentions of that blustering knight, Yu Haibara. You ached from your laughter, savoring this unconditional friendship shown at the table, flowing with ease and filling your chest with a warmth that touched your cheeks. 

It was getting late and Nobu had fallen asleep, curled in his mother’s arms though Hana fought to stay awake, her head dozing against Kento. You watched their affection, the tenderness in this family that called to you–the vast difference from the loured expression Kento greeted you with earlier. Now he held his daughter with one arm while he reached with his other to pull on Runa’s curls, and the gesture forced a blush in response. 

You had to know. “How did you two meet?” 

It was curiosity, or perhaps a sort of envy coiling in your chest, watching their love so bold in front of your eyes. Throughout the night, Kento always looked to his wife, to his children, with a softness to his features, a glow reserved for them. Runa would catch his wandering eye and her radiance returned, brightening the blue of her eyes. 

It was something almost tangible. 

She laughed at your question, pulling your attention. “You may somewhat relate, but imagine waking up and finding a damn soldier bleeding in your garden.” 

“She actually thought I was dead,” Kento corrected, his eyebrow arched at her, a good nature scowl scrawled across his sharp features. “I woke up to her going through my belongings–”

Runa held your gaze. “It was war and things were dire,” she defended with a wicked grin. 

“Nonetheless,” he shifted to pull Hana up, resting her head on his shoulder, “I found her holding my sword–assessing it for its worth, in retrospect,” –a manic giggle spilled from Runa’s lips– “and noticed some of the surviving men of Mahito coming up behind her.”

You saw that Runa’s eyes shone as she listened, as if she was hearing it for the first time. You looked to Suguru and saw his smirk on display for whatever was coming next. “I was going to warn her,” Kento continued, “but she quickly turned to them, portraying this damsel-in-distress act, begging them to remove me, luring them closer and then…”

Kento paused, a slight smile on his lips with the memory. “Well, I had not seen such skill with a blade since Suguru–” 

“My father taught me and my brother very well.” Runa boasted. 

“She cut through them all, hacking them into pieces to dispose of them.” Kento was proud. “I watched her, covered in their blood, and I told her she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.” 

Runa smirked. “I thought he had lost too much blood.”

“She pulled me inside and took care of me until I healed, and I would have stayed if Suguru and Satoru had not found me.” 

“She begged us to take you away,” Suguru scoffed, adding to the retelling. “She told us that he had gone mad.” 

You looked back to Runa and she shrugged. “Kento proposed,” she explained, rolling her eyes, but she was luminous with rose hues. “He told me that he wished for me to become his wife. I told him no, that he needed to go and end this blasted war, and only after, if he still felt compelled, he could come back and perhaps I would reconsider.” 

Your heart fluttered with the prospect, the possibility of leaving a life of sworn duty, seeing how it now thrived in this very residence. You licked your lips. “And, I am assuming, you did just that?” 

Kento returned a war hero and the queen had offered him whatever his heart desired; she granted him a dishonorable discharge. “I had to go back to her,” he explained.

“He never stopped talking about her,” Suguru teased. “It was endless about this red haired beauty who wielded a sword so fine, piercing his heart…”

Amongst the tittering, Kento looked to you, his asperity returning with his words. “It was not love at first sight, but something that came from the moment that I truly saw her. She called to my heart and it recognized her.” His smile was soft again. “I would do it again.” 

His words rolled over, pulling at your heart, and your eyes flitted back to Suguru. He looked away, crimson on his cheeks. 

It was the sleepy whimper from Hana that broke the moment and Kento pushed to stand. Runa shifted, but Suguru was quicker, moving to pull Nobu into his arms, following after his friend to put the kids to bed. 

She watched her husband walking away, her head tilting to admire. “We do have a spare room for you and Suguru,” she told you without looking. “It’s for when my brother comes through, but the bed should be cozy enough for the two of you–” 

You nearly squeaked your surprise. “But, we are not–” you stammered, unwilling to say it out loud. 

“Really? I was so sure,” Runa turned to face you, surprised. “But–I apologize, I only assumed with how you would look at him, and the way Suguru blushed with what–”

The thought never finished as Kento and Suguru returned. Instead, baths were to be drawn for their guests and for the day to come to an end. You followed after Runa, lost in your thoughts and the steam that rose from the tub, almost startled when she pressed something in your arms: a clean dress to change and a chemise, along with a belt. 

“For your blade,” she smiled. “I noticed you had it knotted around your waist.” 

You flushed. “That was Suguru’s doing. He wanted me to be able to defend myself, if I needed to.” 

Runa watched you for a moment, the scrutinous blue blaze of her eyes. “Then allow this belt to help with that.” She turned to leave, pausing in the doorway, peering over her shoulder back at you. “Suguru is… not shy, but he holds onto his honor like armor.” 

“What do you mean?” You were quiet with your question, your eyebrows knitting together. 

Runa sighed. “He would never try anything, especially if you are intended for Satoru.” 

She left you alone with a scurry of thoughts and emotions that twisted throughout, a wave of gooseflesh in its wake. Intended, the word repeated, almost poisonous, and you felt as if you were burning. 

You peeled away your old dress and slipped beneath the water with the bar of soap you made, the honeysuckle and tree oil soothing. You soaked, your mind pulling back to Suguru with an absent-minded tracing of your fingers along the top of your thighs, moving up to press into your knee before falling away again. 

It always returned to him, a muscle memory formed since he first came and found you in your garden. 

Your agitation had burned bright despite the legend that stood in front of you, irksome with his subtle arrogance he carried with his posture, his gait, his certainty with every word spoken as bold as the blade strapped to his backside. There was a power to his gaze, the glitter of amethyst that pulled you with some unspoken emotion that danced, while his lips held onto his infuriating, perpetual smirk. 

But your perspective of him had changed, though you could not pinpoint the moment with so many woven together in the short amount of time shared: the market, the fire, the nights curled up against his chest under the endless stretch of starlight. 

You always thought him handsome, you could admit, but that seemed a girlish crush at first. This was something that matured without you realizing; it was the way his gaze always seemed to find you, rooting you, and how he would tease you when you balanced on the precipice of your temper, and how it would ground you again.  

That night at the market–you asked him to stay because something told you that he could be trusted, that he was safe. He showed you glimpses of his true character outside the lore and legend with how he touched you that night of the fire, his gentle wipe away of your tears mixed with ash, his empathy somber on his face. 

He did not let you go that night, you realized and that memory flushed through you, curling into your lower abdomen. You shifted, water spilling over the edges, and you slipped beneath, washing away the suds before you finally pulled yourself out. You dried with the sheets left behind and changed into the cotton chemise, brushing the rose oil into your hair and plaiting it back, moving back through the quiet home and towards the spare room. 

Moonlight spilled through the windows, and tapers were lit for an amber glow. You saw Suguru at the other end, dressed in a clean shirt and slacks from Kento, baggy on his lithe form. He paused. “I was going to just sleep in the loft,” he offered, looking at you. 

And your heart recognized him. “You should stay.” Your voice was quiet, careful with your shy admittance. “I sleep better with you at my side.” 

At first, he seemed stricken with your words, and his jaw ticked as he processed them. Suguru then nodded and reached to take your hand, leading you towards the spare room.

The bed was as cozy as promised with the scent of fresh hay and clean linen, mixing pleasantly against his skin, warming your cheeks as you curled back on his chest. 

taglist: @sugurubabe @elliesndg @paprikaquinn @yeehawbrothers @witchbybirth

arcie's navi | jjk masterlist the salver & the sword masterlist

[paprikaquinn]

MDNI - 18+ Material

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna absolutely hates anyone bothering him, being the hermit he is most of the time. But what he loves is to relax in his backyard with an ice cold beer and a fat blunt.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna will occasionally yell at his neighbors’ kids for being too loud with them screaming their heads off. Clearly offended by how the sounds disturbed his peace.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna noticed that his neighbor was having a pool party, already irritated as he puffs on his blunt - until his eyes laid on you. The view of you in your black bikini that leaves little to the imagination for the pink-haired man. Smirking at the way you’d do a few pumps on the diving board as you’re focused on the water, seeing how your tits jiggled along to the movement before jumping off and landing with a big splash.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna kept thinking about you after that day, seeing your face and body everywhere he went. First being at work, then on the way back home… It was the final straw when a mental image of you appears when he’s in the shower.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna fists his cock to the thought of you, wondering what you’d sound like; how you’d even taste on his lips and tongue. With the thoughts being too clouded with primal lust and desire, he finished fast as a low groan spills from him. Cursing himself for getting soft over a stranger that he doesn’t even know.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna checks his backyard every day, hoping to god that you’ll appear again like in his dreams and thoughts. Desperate to see your face and body once more.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna feels like his calling has been answered as he takes a peek of the backyard fence and sees his neighbor cooking out and having another pool party. With quick thinking, he grabs his new bottles of booze and heads over.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna was pleased to see that his neighbor was nice enough to let him in as he provided the booze to the party. Once stepping inside, his gaze zeros in on you at the pool through the sliding glass door.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna chats away with your uncle and aunts while sipping on his second glass of bourbon, occasionally sneaking a few glances at you playing with your little cousins and having fun. He could feel himself being even more drawn to you; the laughs and giggles you’d make while smiling.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna was surprised that your family invited him to go bowling with yall later on in the day. His mind was hesitant, but he knew it was worth the interaction if it meant seeing more of you.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna felt the thrill of being able to see you focused on the game, though, his mind was somewhere else once he sees the way your delicate hands grasped the bowling ball carefully. Having to glance away for a moment as he sees you smirk at him once you’d stuff your fingers into the holes of the ball.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna could’ve sworn that he’s dreaming. Because once everyone headed home, he’s got you on your back, sprawled over the bed with your glistening pussy shining under the moonlight. You speaking your sweet nothings to him while playing yourself made his head spin.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna didn’t think he’d get this far - pounding into your pretty and tight cunt with wreckless abandon and having you moan his name so loud. It’s driving him insane. He feels somewhat sorry once he cums inside, but you assure him that it’s what you’ve wanted.

RudeNeighbor!Sukuna realizes that he’s gotten himself in a situation once he wakes up in the morning, seeing your peacefully sleeping form right next to him. Finally believing that he’s found his purpose in this world as he lets his fingers gently dance across your glowing skin with a feather touch, falling deeper as he sees just how beautiful you look in the mornings.

[paprikaquinn]

"Shhhh," you giggle wickedly against Choso's sweaty forehead. Your tits are stuffed in his mouth, muffling his slutty little moans as you ride him, bouncing your ass up and down on his lap, his cock hitting your g-spot with each deep thrust. "Your brothers are going to hear us."

He groans louder, drool wet on your skin, tongue hot on your nipples as you force another orgasm out of him, his second one in a row. It's too much now, way too fucking much, and still, you don't relent. Even after you're stuffed so full of his seed, you continue to ride him, desperate for more. He's such a fucking slut for you that he doesn't have the strength nor the willpower to stop you from using his oversensitive cock. All he can do is lie there and take it, lie there and act like he's at his fucking limit, when he actually is loving this so fucking much. Especially when you're fucking him inside his bedroom while his precious brothers are playing video games just outside.

He gets off on this shit, even he can admit that. Big brother Choso, who takes care of his little brothers, who dotes on them, protects them, caters to them hand-and-foot. Well, he needs to be taken care of too, and who better to do that than you, his horny little girlfriend. You, who smirks down at him as you pump more and more cum out of his cock while his moans get more high-pitched sucking on your nipples harder, trying to control the obscene noises being drawn out of him. "No more," he says weakly, not making any effort to lift you off him.

"One more, baby." You kiss him on the mouth, lapping at his tongue, wiping away the sweat and tears streaked on his face. "Just one more. Please?"

Sure, his balls are drained, his cock hurts from overstimulation, but how can he refuse you when you look at him like that? "Okay, baby. Just one more," he gives in, leaving it all to you yet again.

Yeah, he really, really likes being taken care of.

[paprikaquinn]

Spooky ✨🍂🎃

[paprikaquinn]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 2.03 ⬩ 2.08

[paprikaquinn]

JJK Men as Dads

Contains: Toji, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, and Sukuna.  A/N: Don’t yell at me for Toji’s I’M JUST SAYING IT HOW IT IS 

Toji:

Gojo: He’d be as protective as your average dad would be. Nothing scares him, because he knows he’s the strongest, and he sleeps comfortably with the knowledge that nothing and no one could ever possibly even dream of harming his child so long as he’s alive. 

He’s laid back and not strict, though he can be stern at times. He wants his child to have a good childhood. So he encourages them to do everything so that they learn lessons and make mistakes. 

He’s a playful father, keen on making core memories with his child. Carrying them home from school over his shoulder, chasing them, playing games, blowing raspberries on their tummy.  

If one day he learns that his child is being picked on at school, he’ll roll up his sleeves and fume, “Alright, no more Mr. Nice Guy!”

Geto: Much like Gojo, he’s not overly protective, because he’s secure in the knowledge that he can protect his children from most things if not all. 

Geto is gentle. So very gentle. He never yells, even if he’s mad. His approach to fatherhood is a calm one. While he had practice with Nanako and Mimiko, when it came to his biological child, he was a little nervous because the baby was so tiny.

Geto is a very present father, and his baby talk is quite cute. When his child gets older, he’s a little more reserved, he doesn’t showcase his love all the time even though he feels it. He can be a little awkward with showing physical love. 

Nanami: Nanami Kento. The man destined to be a father. He is a big family guy. More protective than Gojo and Geto, because he feels the responsibility of fatherhood deep in his bones. 

He’s a little more strict with his child because of this, always keeping them close. His love language is acts of service and quality time so he loves to help his child out with homework or complete puzzles or do colouring with them. He’s one of those fathers who’s pushing their child to do good at school but is not overbearing about it. 

For disciplining his child, he tasks them with chores, making them sweep the entire backyard for example, and it works. 

Choso: Choso is thee most protective dad you could ever imagine. If he’s that protective over his brothers, imagine what he’d be like for his child? 

Choso’s main love language is physical touch, so he’s very hands on: rubbing and drawing circles on their back while they drift off to sleep; carrying them on his shoulders; giving piggyback rides, holding their hand; doing their hair (more often than not, like his); giving big bear hugs. 

He never lets his child out of his sight unless their mother is there. Choso is less patient as a father, but he’s working on it. He knows he’s not a perfect dad, but he’s striving to provide a safe environment for his child, at least until they are old enough to defend themselves. But even after they are old enough, he’s still looking out for them.

Sukuna: It was never in Sukuna’s nature to be a father, because he despises children. Loathes them. They are useless things that require way too much attention for way too long. 

He did not bat an eye when his child was born, in fact, he nearly killed the poor baby for crying too much. However, over time, his resolve cracks a little. He merely tolerates his child. He doesn’t show them any techniques, and expects them to know it all already. 

Affection is a foreign concept to him but he does not turn his child away for hugging him. 

Sukuna is not always present but he feels a smidge of responsibility for his heir, so he makes a minuscule amount of effort on occasion. 

© ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[paprikaquinn]

Pretty Nails

Pairing: Choso Kamo x fem!reader Synopsis: Choso finds that he loves when you get your nails done, especially when they’re his favourite colour.  CW: established relationship, smut — voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, hand job, mutual masturbation  WC: 1.4k A/N: I got a new set and that inspired this, enjoy <3

It’s not often that you get your nails done. On occasions and once in a while, you’ll embrace your femininity and brave the energy of the nail salon to get a pretty set. 

Your boyfriend, Choso, had not yet seen you have your nails done in the few short months you’d been with him, and you were unaware of just how much he would fucking love them on you. 

You’d opted to get them done in the morning so you could spend the rest of the day with Choso. You arrive back to his place in the late morning, two cups of fresh squeezed juice in hand. 

“I’m home, Cho! I got us some juice, too…” As you toe off your shoes by the door, he rounds the corner with a small grin. 

“Hi,” he greets you with a gentle peck to your forehead. “I made you breakfast since you didn’t eat before you left.”  

You give him a puppy dog look, pouting your bottom lip, “Cho…you didn’t have to do that, I would’ve waited and had lunch with you soon anyway…”

You both walk through the hallway and into the kitchen where you set down the cups of juice that you had. You gesture to them, “Try it, I think you’ll like the combination.”

It’s the flash of blood red on your hands when you’re gesturing that makes his head snap up in concern because for a moment he thought you’d hurt yourself somewhere and were bleeding. 

You stop when you see his concerned gaze, “What’s wrong?”

His face relaxes as he realises that it’s not a cut or blood, but rather, your new nails. He lets out a low chuckle, stepping in front of you and taking your hands in his to admire them. 

“Oh! Yeah…look at them, aren’t they pretty?” You hold both hands out and wiggle your fingers as he inspects them. The deep red colour, the shape, the cleanness of it…it was very sexy. He didn’t expect to find it this hot.  

“They really are,” he breathes out, caressing your fingers gently with his thumbs. Choso didn’t have a hand fetish — was that even a thing? — but god, your hands looked so beautiful with these nails. They were perfect. 

“I’m glad you like them. I picked this shade just for you,” you admit bashfully and he grins. 

“That’s…really sweet,” he kisses your fingers and grabs the cup of juice, taking a sip before he sets the plate of breakfast in front of you, “so’s this juice. Now, eat.”

You sit and eat and he stands on the opposite side of the counter, sipping on the juice as he watches you. He’s captivated by the elegance of your hands while you’re using the cutlery. 

He finds it quite interesting how a simple thing like getting coloured nails can elevate everything. 

You finish your late breakfast — brunch, really — and clear the counter of the random things that were on there. You eye him and notice him watching you, looking at your nails specifically. 

“You really like them, don’t you?” You ask and he hums. 

“More than I thought I would,” he nods.

You gaze at him for a beat and smirk, an idea coming to you. “Come with me,” you take his hand and lead him into his bedroom where you pull off your top and your bottoms, crawling onto the bed. 

He wets his lips, feeling his blood rushing south at your forwardness. You sit back against the plush pillows and cup your breasts, playing with them and teasing your nipples. “Come sit, Cho,” you invite him and he does so, sitting cross legged in front of you. 

You slide your hands down to your hips where you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and slowly drag them down, making sure to showcase your nails for him. 

He’s breathing slowly, watching you intently with big, dark eyes. 

“Take off your clothes for me,” you request, and he obliges, pulling off his shirt, sitting opposite you.

You pull your underwear off and toss it to the side, “Bottoms too.”

He fucking loves when you’re bossy with him and take the reins like so. His cock grows harder with each of your teasing movements; you spread your legs gradually, and he’s unhurried as he steps off the bed briefly to take off his pants, his eyes never leaving you. 

The sight of your pretty pussy on display makes his dick twitch with excitement, but it’s when you start to play with yourself, those pretty nails being front and centre— oh, he could cum right then and there. 

“Fuck…” he sighs, hand wrapping around his cock without a thought. 

You slide your fingers through your folds, spreading the slick that had gathered, circling your clit a few times with a breathy sigh of his name. 

Your eyes flutter closed as you gently dip your fingers into your entrance, biting your lip. Choso strokes himself in tandem with the slow and steady pace you’d set, and as he watches your middle fingers disappear into your tight cunt, he has to grip his cock to control himself so that he doesn’t cum too fast. 

He can’t pry his eyes off of you, he’s transfixed on the way you’re playing with yourself so sensually, drawing your fingers out and back in again, pumping them leisurely, your fingers and pretty nails shining with your slick.

“O-oh…Cho…” you let out a little moan and you open your eyes to see his boring into yours. 

He’s stroking himself a little faster and you watch him while he watches you. Your wetness seeps out around your fingers and you roll your hips against your hand with a soft whine. 

“Let me, pretty,” he kneels forward and sits directly in front of you. You sit up, slipping your fingers out of you and you bite your lip when he takes your hand and sucks your fingers clean with a deep, guttural groan. He brings his fingers to your folds, humming in contentment as he coats them in your juices and dips them into you. 

At the same time, you wrap your hand around his big cock and pump him in your fist, mewling when you feel him curl his fingers inside you. 

“Did you like that?” He husks and you moan in response, trying to focus on your ministrations on him rather than his on you. You look up at him, wanton, as you stroke him a little harder, a little faster, thumb teasing his slit.

His breath shudders as he looks down at your perfect, pretty hand wrapped around his veiny cock, and he can’t help but jut his hips up into your hand because fuck, the view. 

You’re both getting close now, and he leans in to connect your lips in a bruising kiss while he fucks you with his fingers. He alternates between curling them and straightening them, and he presses the pad of his thumb onto your swollen, throbbing clit and rubs it furiously, eager to send you over the edge. 

“Cum on my fingers, sweetness,” he murmurs to your lips, letting out a low groan shortly after. You rock your hips up against his hand, your release imminent and closing in on you. 

You go to bossily tell him no, but your words are lost on you as a loud moan takes their place, your orgasm washing over your body, making you tense up and your walls clench around his fingers, “Ah— fuck, Cho…!”

You grip his cock, the movement of your hand stuttering as you try to regain control in the midst of your high. He grunts, wrapping his hand around yours and guiding you to jerk him off. You pant as you feel his cock throb and then he’s cumming, his hot load spurting out over your joined hands. 

He curses, groaning your name as you both watch him cum. 

You pull him on top of you and into a deep, open mouthed kiss. He laps his tongue against yours, sighing contently before he breaks away and rolls onto his back. 

“Did you even drink your juice before?” He asks, eyes hooded as he lays back against the pillows with you. 

“I got something better,” you grin and shift over, dipping your head and licking up the spillage of cum over your hand, tongue running over the tip of his dick and licking him clean. 

“Touché. Protein, I guess,” he snorts. 

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

Divider by cafekitsune

[paprikaquinn]

Ovulation

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

Synopsis: Toji is away for work while you are ovulating — and you are suffering deeply from needingtobefuckeditis. When he returns, boy does he deliver. 

CW: horniness like you’ve never felt before, mentions of masturbation, established relationship, smut — unprotected sex, spanking, creampie, overstimulation?, anal fingering, squirting, hair pulling, dom!Toji, breeding kink (MDNI) WC: 4k A/N: oh to be Toji’s toy during ovulation… 😵‍💫

You could not think straight. Usually, the ovulation stage of your cycle would bring the to be expected egg white and some out of pocket dirty thoughts here and there, but this time? Your reproductive organs were on steroids. 

Even before your period had ended, your mind had been clouded with such downright dirty thoughts of being absolutely rawed that you worried to think what your body would be like once it actually did finish. 

And oh, were you ill-prepared. 

It hit you with full force the first morning without your period. All you could think about was sex. Of being fucked so good that you’d see god. Of your cunt being used and abused in the way that she was clearly craving so fucking badly. Of being so stuffed full of cum that it would leak out all over your legs. 

Going to work in these conditions was brutal. The work day was ordinarily not so long, but now? You were suffering. To add insult to injury, Toji was out of town for work, so you had no one to satisfy you except the sad little piece of plastic in your bedside drawer. 

You had long retired your rabbit since being with Toji, for obvious reasons, the main being that nothing and no one could ever come close to him. And you’d gotten so used to how good he would give it to you that you knew that nothing you could do with the rabbit would ever compare. 

Every time he was away, you’d have no communication until he came back, which you understood due to his line of work, but right now, you hated that fact because you wish you could at least hear his voice. Something, anything from him would help. 

So here you were, on day 2 of your ovulation phase, trying to get Megumi to sleep sooner so you could get to bed yourself. 

When he eventually did fall asleep, you darted out of his room and into yours, pulling off your clothes hastily and grabbing your current sleeping companion from the nightstand. 

While it wasn’t Toji, you managed to satiate your aching cunt for the time being. 

The next day was ever the challenge, but thankfully you had some tasks at work that required additional brain power so this distracted you briefly from the dire need to be fucked.

The constant horniness was getting tiring without Toji truly satisfying it, but you did your best to nonetheless, counting down the days until he’d come home, which — you check your watch — should be in 3 days, 2 hours, and 24 minutes. 

You decided to get creative with your methods, one such being a Pilates class. Your friend had told you, verbatim, “If you want to feel like you’ve been bent over, disrespectfully, and have your legs quaking by the end, go to a Pilates class.”

So you had decided to do just that. Megumi had a babysitter for that evening while you were at the class, so you got to fully immerse yourself into it. You did not expect it to be so difficult, having to bend your body into all these different positions and engaging your core in a way that you’d never felt before. The burn was undeniable and strangely, you did find that it helped somewhat. 

Your muscles truly ached the next day, a Friday. This helped keep the dirty thoughts and the horny feelings at bay as you winced from the muscle ache at work, but by the time you got home, your mind had clouded once again.

You had Megumi to tend to for the evening until his bedtime, so you had to keep it all at bay while you watched over the sweet boy. He was a great kid and you were grateful that he was as such. 

Finally, finally, you tuck him into bed a few hours later and make sure he’s asleep before you shut his door and head into yours like a woman on a mission. 

Day 4 of ovulation and it was probably the worst of them all. The desperation you were feeling was like you were a bitch in heat.

So, imagine the sheer anger that strikes through you when you find that your rabbit’s batteries had died and you had no spare ones to hand. Of fucking course. 

Toji is very many things. Toji is a punctual man. (Or, at least, he tells himself that. He tries to be.)

He had told you he’d be home after his mission on Sunday afternoon, and usually his missions take the whole predicted time, but this mission he’d gotten lucky with and he’d managed to finish up quicker than anticipated by Friday evening. He was happy about that; he’d be getting paid the same figure and also get to go home sooner. 

While he’s making the journey home, he wonders what he’d do with his “paid time off” as you’d call it — probably primarily family time with you and Megumi. You. He’d missed you, your voice, and your sweet body. He wouldn’t say it outright, but he was excited to see you. And so was his cock. 

Toji had expected to arrive home to a quiet, dark house since it was nighttime and you loved your beauty sleep. What he didn’t expect was to find you splayed out open on the bed, fingers knuckle deep as you pump them furiously in and out of your weeping pussy, quiet mewls falling from you as you gasp and rub quick circles on your swollen clit. 

Toji can do very many things. Arriving early to places is not one of them, you’ll note. 

Your eyes were closed and your face twisted into one of pleasure as you made do with your hands and fingers, but you opened them to watch yourself when you suddenly notice Toji stood in the doorway, raging hard on poking through his pants, and you instantly stop. 

“Toji?” You sit up quickly, unable to believe the sight before you. Were you so far gone that you’d imagined him? 

“Oh, don’t stop, baby, I was enjoying the show,” he husks, a sexy smirk on his lips as he kicks the door shut and stalks towards you. 

You kneel over to the end of the bed and let out a soft whine when he pulls off his shirt and comes to stand in front of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He was real. When you break apart for air, you sigh, “I can’t believe you’re home already, I was going insane without you.”

“That so?” He chuckles lowly, big hands groping the bare skin of your hips and sliding back to your ass as he connects your lips again. He can sense some urgency in the way you kiss. “Unwrapped my gift for me, huh?”

“I’m ovulating, Toji. I’ve been fucking feral. I needed you so bad this past week…I still do. I need it. I feel like I’m going to die if you don’t give it to me,” you look at him and he can see the desperation in your eyes. 

He laughs quietly, letting you open the ribbon of his pants, “Death by lack of dick. Interesting way to go.”

“I’m serious, Toji,” you responded, pulling him onto the bed with as his pants are at his knees. He lets them fall down the rest of the way and he kisses you again, hungrier this time. You moan into his mouth, lying back and pulling him on top of you. He hovers over you, your legs instantly wrapping around his hips. 

You feel the hot press of his heavy cock against your puffy folds, and the excitement of finally getting what you had been longing for, for this entire week gives you a rush. He grunts as he rocks his hips into yours, covering his thick cock with the copious amounts of wetness that had already accumulated at your core. The rubbing of his cock on your clit makes you mewl and you get restless, reaching down to guide him into you. 

“So needy for me, aren’t you? My perfect little wife,” he hums against your mouth and you lift your hips, pumping him with your hand once, twice, before you’re guiding him into your waiting entrance. She’d been waiting for this, waiting for him, and the pure relief that you feel of his cock filling you and stretching your walls is something heavenly. 

You let out a filthy moan when he bottoms out inside you, and he covers your mouth with his large hand, “Meg’s sleeping, sweetheart, I know you’ve been waiting for this but keep it down.”

You swallow, biting your lip and nodding before he gives you a dirty grind of his hips, his pubic bone grazing your clit. You nearly go cross eyed at the pure bliss this gives you. Truth be told, he was surprised at how easily you’d taken all of him on the first try, but he wasn’t complaining. You were snug as always, wrapped around him so perfectly like you were moulded just for him. 

He draws his hips back and you let out a gasp at the heavy feeling of his cock dragging against your plush walls. When he thrusts back into you, you feel like you might explode. You need him to fuck you senseless. 

“Faster, baby, please,” you plead, grasping onto his beefy arms, nails digging in a little. 

“I love when you beg for me,” he murmurs, lips curled into a smirk as he sucks on your neck. He rolls his hips steadily a few more times, ever the tease, but then he obliges with your request, quickening his pace. He brings his lips to yours in an open mouthed, breathy, messy kiss while he fucks you into the mattress, then leans back because he wants to watch the way you fall apart under him. 

You’re on cloud nine; there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of having a craving fulfilled, nothing better than the pleasure of Toji putting you through the mattress. You try to stifle your moans but you can’t, your face twisted in pleasure as he rams his thick, delicious cock into your needy cunt over and over again. 

It’s when he grabs your legs from your knees, pushing them up one at a time to fold you in half, that you feel the tingles of your orgasm fast approaching. He hooks his arms under your thighs and pins you to the bed that way, fucking into you rougher despite you being tighter around him now. “Ah— mm, T-Toji-!” Your hands trail up around his shoulders, nails leaving angry red tracks on his muscled back while he pistons his hips repeatedly into yours, the sound of your hips colliding echoing in the room alongside your lewd moans. 

You can feel your orgasm approaching fast and you grip onto him, gazing up at him, dazed. “Cum f’me, sweetness— hah— oh, fuck,” he grunts, dipping his head to tease your taut nipple with the flat of his tongue. 

He loved having you in this position, he loved testing fate every time you fucked like so. It’s the combination of your carnal desire being satisfied, his mouth on your tits, the deep plunge of his cock inside you, and his direct order that sends you over the edge into the deepest depths of euphoria with a moan so dirty it sounds like a cry. The wave that overcomes your body makes you stiffen and your walls pulse so tightly that it almost becomes painful while he continues to fuck you through it. 

“That’s it, baby, f-fuck, give it to me,” Toji groans, hips stuttering as he feels his balls tighten, signalling his imminent release. He pants as he keeps thrusting, and you pull his face up to yours so that you can kiss him. Tongues tangled, his pleasure overcomes him and he buries himself deep inside you as he cums, releasing his thick ropes into your waiting cunt. 

He breathes heavily and tries to catch his breath for a moment, lips moving lazily against yours. You bask in the delicious feeling of him fucking his cum inside you. 

You’re holding onto him tightly as he releases your legs and you wrap them around his waist again, letting out a quiet mewl when you feel him slip from your confines. “Baby…wait…” 

“Remind me to go on missions while you’re ovulating,” he says, a smirk curling at his lips while he pecks kisses on your jaw, “we should do that again sometime.”

You feel up his back, a part of him you loved especially, already feeling empty and wanting more of him. “Sometime? How about… again, right now?” You suggest, and he stops for a second, looking down at you incredulously. 

“Wh—now?” He repeats and you nod, biting your bottom lip as you bring your hand to cup his face. Thumb caressing his cheek, he turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, his eyes hooded as he feels the rush of arousal through his body once again. His cock was still hard and he grabs your face in both his hands, crashing his lips to yours in a rush of desire. You moan into his mouth as he pushes his tongue past the seam of your lips and against yours. 

You push him up and this causes him to break the kiss as he sits back on his haunches and waits to see what you want to do. Precum oozes from his slit when he watches you get on all fours and rock your hips sensually for him. 

The mess between your thighs drips down them, but you don’t care. You just needed him, again. You wanted more. You wanted all of him. You arch your back, bringing your arms down so you can rest on your elbows. “I want you this way,” you tell him and he wets his lips as he kneels behind you. 

He’d never seen you be this damn needy. It was so sexy to him.  

Large hands grabbing your hips, he rests his heavy cock on the crack of your ass as he reaches around you to toy with your clit. You keen at the calculated movement of his thick fingers, absentmindedly pushing your hips back against his. “God, Toji…” you sigh contently, eager to have him inside you again. 

He can be a tease sometimes and make you beg for it, but right now, he was more than happy to entertain this. Taking his hand away from your clit, he holds onto your hip while he guides his leaking cock into your cunt. You keen at the feeling, the difference in position being felt entirely. You rest your cheek against the bed with a breathy sigh.

He feeds you inch by delicious inch of his thick cock, letting out a tsk when your walls clench around him involuntarily. He swats your ass in response and you let out a small cry, the sting of it going straight to your pussy. He finally bottoms out inside you again, and he pulses his hips, his balls teasing your throbbing clit. 

“O-oh…mmnh…” you let out incoherent sounds, gripping the bedsheets when he draws his hips back until only his tip was inside you, slamming his hips into yours with a forceful thrust. 

He begins a brutal pace, the sound of your hips slapping together even louder than before. Your eyes are screwed shut as you enjoy the feeling of being thoroughly fucked, your mouth agape while he pulls you back onto his cock. 

It’s too much, too fast, your brain can hardly keep up with the fast pace of his. He’s drawing out lewd and dirty moans of his name from you, to which he reaches up and wraps his hand around your hair, pulling on it a little. “I told you to be quiet, sweet thing.”

You bury your face into the sheets and muffle your moans while he continues to ravage your greedy cunt. He releases your hair and lets out a low growl at the sight of your pussy creaming around his dick. Toji loves your ass. It’s why he doesn’t even think about it before he’s gathering your slick and teasing your asshole with his finger. 

He’s fucking you into oblivion now, and the sensations are getting slightly overwhelming but you want to power through because you’d been needing this like you needed air. You wanted this. 

With each mean thrust of his cock against your plush walls, you edge closer and closer to another, no doubt, life changing orgasm. 

“Takin’ me so damn good, baby,” he grits out, dipping his finger into your ass as he continues his mean pace, the thump, thump, thump of his hips hitting yours like the base of a delightful melody. 

And boy, oh, boy, was he playing your body like his favourite instrument. 

It’s when he’s fully fingering your ass that it happens all at once, your orgasm hits you in an instant and a sudden rush washes over you; a pressure in your abdomen being released as you squirt all over him and the bed. You cry out, tears in your eyes from the ecstasy of it all, your legs almost giving out. 

He lets out a gasp, both from the surprise of you squirting all of a sudden, and from the sheer strength of your orgasm which had your walls gripping him so tightly that he struggled to keep his own at bay. Again. Fuck, you were addictive. “Jesus—! Fuck!” He hisses through clenched teeth. 

The mess of your squirt, your juices and your cream covered his lower abdomen and he was living for being this fucking filthy with you. He fucks into you a few more times before he starts to cum, slamming his hips into yours again and again to ride through it. His breath shudders as he slows gradually to a stop. He stays there, plugging his cum in you, and you inhale shaky breaths, eyes still closed. 

Toji can do very many things, especially with you. Fucking like rabbits was one of his favourite. 

He bows over your back, panting for breath, and you both fall onto your sides as you come down from the high. He caresses your hip, where he’d held a bruising grip on you before. You take a moment to gather yourself, and you move off of him, your puffy pussy feeling (and looking, Toji noted) truly abused by that point. You grab the glass of water you’d put on the bedside table earlier and take a long sip, rehydrating yourself. 

Toji rolls onto his back, closing his eyes, hand splayed on his abs. You let yourself shamelessly ogle his body while you drink your water; eyes raking down from his pretty face to his large torso, bulging pecs, defined abs, prominent v-line that led straight to his beautiful, big, curved, and still hard but slowly softening cock. 

You salivated at the sight of it. The tiredness in your body starts to dissipate the more you look at him. 

More, more, more. You wanted more. 

You set your glass down and crawl over to him, straddling his hips. He opens his eyes at this and gazes up at you in question. As far as he was concerned, you should have been satiated following that last round. 

He can see the glint of mischief in your eyes as you reach between you and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it slowly. He doesn’t protest — if anyone can keep up with you it’s him — and he watches with piqued interest at how you work his cock so easily, doing all the right things that he likes. 

“We already got this messy and you wanna go again?” He inquires, and you nod lazily, thumbing over his slit and smirking to yourself when you feel it jump. Not only are you stroking his cock but you’re also stroking his ego, and he is thoroughly enjoying being the recipient of both of those things. 

It doesn’t take much before he’s rock hard again, and he’s groping your ass as you lift your hips and aligning him at your entrance, sinking down onto him in one smooth and steady motion. 

He grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he gazes up at you, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head as you feel yourself being split apart on his thick cock for the third time that evening. 

You didn’t need much time to adjust to him so you rock your hips back and forth, feeling the base of his cock catch at your clit, making you cream around him. Toji’s groans are deep and rumble from within his chest as you take the reins, lifting your hips and sinking back down, over and over, desperately. You look so wanton as you ride him, your pretty tits bouncing in his face so he can’t help but give them the attention they deserve. 

You clench around him when you feel his mouth on you, so messy with it; open mouthed kisses, sucking, licking, damn near drooling all over your chest. 

“Christ, you’re gonna end up pregnant at this rate,” he says with a warning tone, but you only look at him with hooded eyes.

“What if that’s what I want, Toji?” You murmur, bouncing your hips faster. “What if I want you to put a baby in me?” 

“Yeah? Wanna give Gumi a sibling, huh?” He rasps, squeezing your ass tightly. 

It was at that point that you go onto autopilot, your body moving on its own accord, fucking down onto him with such carnal need that you felt like an animal. 

“Yes…yes, fuck, Toji, yes,” you ramble, feeling that you’re nearing your release. You reach back and play with his balls, squeezing them, pulling ever so gently, wanting him to cum with you. 

“I’m gonna give it all to you, pretty. Gonna give you every last fuckin’ drop,” his chest rises and falls quicker as you both get closer and closer to the edge. 

You lean forward and bounce your hips faster, filthy moans being drawn from your lips which Toji tries to quieten by crushing his lips on yours in a bruising kiss.

You both reach your peaks within seconds of one another, and you try to keep your pace to ride through it but you simply give into the rush of your orgasm and let it take hold of your body. Toji shoots his hot load into you, holding your hips tightly as you both let out breathy moans of each other’s names alongside profanity. 

Your walls greedily milk him of every drop that he has to give, and you sigh in contentment as you relax against him, sweaty but satisfied. 

Your legs had gone jelly now, the lactic acid build up was catching up to you. Many won’t know this but Toji does have an attentive side that he keeps reserved for you (and his son sometimes). You find yourself smiling when he brings his hands to your thighs and massages them gently, squeezing your muscles a little to get rid of the lactic acid burn. 

You kiss him slowly, taking your time to savour the taste of him. 

“Can we go again?” You ask with a needy tone, but you couldn’t quite hide the slight tiredness in your voice. 

“Honey, we’ve gotta pump the brakes…I’m tired as shit right now and I need— we both need to sleep,” he sighs, running a hand up over his face, pushing his hair back a little. 

You pout at him, rubbing the base of his neck and leaning in to suck a dark mark onto his skin, knowing you’d have to let up. “Tomorrow, then? Breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”

“Do I look like a buffet to you?” He quips, and you dissolve into a fit of laughter. “But…fine. Since you asked so nicely.”

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

Divider by cafekitsune

[paprikaquinn]

“if you were an animal you would be a hyena.”

sukuna glares at you with a bewildered look, brows furrowing together, “the fuck?”

“you give major hyena vibes.”

he growls at you, thigh nudging your head off, but you don’t falter, giggling at his reaction.

“what animal do you think i am?”

“a bitch.”

you burst out laughing, hands coming over your tummy while he continues glaring down at you. why are you so happy—

“a doggie then, that’s so cute, ryo!”

and then he gets kind of… mopey. all quiet, doesn’t even play with your hair or invite you back on his lap; just lets you lay your head on his thighs and stares at the tv, although it’s obvious he is thinking hard.

10 minutes pass in silence before you put away your phone and look up at him curiously, “what’s on your min—”

“i would be a wolf.” he murmurs, eyes staring down at his lap while his arms cross over his chest.

you eye his pouty face wearily, sitting up with a small huff. “what?”

“i said i’d be a damn wolf, woman!”

you bite your lower lip, hand coming up to cover the lower half of your face in an attempt to hide the smile that threatens to give away your amusement. he’s been thinking about that for the past 10 minutes, waiting for you to speak up.

“ryo~” you let out a snort, relishing in the way his eyes widen and posture stiffens, enraged by your reaction. “you’re too funny!”

“i will tear you apart.”

“that’s what a hyena would do.”

“run.”

[paprikaquinn]

:-)

[paprikaquinn]

Vitamins

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!Nanami being super domestic, encouraging you to take vitamins, and taking care of you in all ways. 

CW: pet names, going to the doctors, established relationship, smut — dirty talking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, brief edging, breeding kink if you squint, pregnancy (MDNI) WC: 4.6k A/N: I’m not religious but I need him biblically. 

“You’re not anaemic, but your iron levels were shown to be at 4, where we would like to see them at 6, so they’re low,” the doctor informs you. 

You nod in acceptance and Nanami, sat beside you, leans in as he listens intently, elbows on his knees and hands joined together. He’d been the one who recommended you get your blood tested, so of course he was here to support. 

“I’ll be prescribing you some iron tablets for that and hopefully we can see some results after a couple of months. Further, it was found that you were deficient in vitamin A, B12, and D. Your vitamin K levels looked to be normal, however,” the doctor goes on and you nod again. 

“That’s good, honey. You were concerned about bruises and wound recovery but your vitamin K is fine. Right, doctor?” Nanami gazes at you before looking back to the doctor. You blush a little at the mention of bruises, a flashback of a couple nights ago popping up in your head. 

His big hands, roaming your body, coming to rest on your hips and squeezing them tightly as he pulled you onto his cock desperately. 

The doctor’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts immediately. 

“Correct, vitamin K deficiency does increase risk of bleeding and bruising but the levels were healthy so nothing of concern there. I would recommend taking supplements for the time being for your vitamin A, B12 and D as well as your prescribed iron tablets. Overall, everything else was at healthy levels.”

You nod once again, “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be sure to stay on top of that.”

Nanami leans back and slides his arm around your shoulders before you both stand, taking the report and prescription note and leave the doctor’s office, bidding her goodbye. 

You slip your hand into your husband’s as you walk through the hallway towards the exit. “I have something else you can stay on top of,” he whispers and bumps his hips with yours. 

“Kento!” You whisper at him and lightly smack his firm bicep. 

He lets out a chuckle at your reaction, getting so flustered so easily, “On a serious note, I’m glad that we know now how everything’s going with your vitamin intake. It’s definitely peace of mind,” he says as he guides you outside and towards the pharmacy next door. 

“It is. I wouldn’t have really thought to pursue it myself but I’m grateful you suggested it,” you interlace your fingers through his as you feel gratitude for having him in your life. He’s so caring and also such an adult. Though you laugh about his seriousness sometimes, you’re also grateful that he’s so mindful of things like vitamin intake. 

He ushers you to step inside the pharmacy first — as he always does, ever the gentleman — and you lead the way to the vitamin aisle. Stopping at one section of the many shelves, you peruse the array of vitamins before you, and Nanami is quick to pick one of each that you needed, up. “These have the highest milligrams, so they’ll be the most effective.”

“You’re right,” you nod, and you spot a little pill box, segmented for each day of the week. “Would it make me a total grandma if I got one of these?” You ask your husband, looking to him attentively.  

“Not at all. They can certainly help with keeping a routine of…” a little smirk curls at the corner of his lips, lowering his voice to a hush, “staying on top of things.”

You try not to smile but you can’t help it so you pout instead to hide it, “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?” You ask rhetorically and he laughs softly. You both grab the appropriate vitamin bottles and carry them to the counter where you also pick up your prescription iron tablets. 

When you get home, you both wash up and change into your comfy home clothes and get started on making lunch together. You sauté some onions as the base of the soup you were making while he chops up some fresh herbs for a tasty couscous salad. “Can you pass me the chilli flakes, my love?” 

He grabs the little spice container and steps over, holding it out for you. You try to take it but he holds onto it and dips his head to kiss your knuckles. It’s a small act but one that makes your heart flutter and your lips curl into a smile. 

Once lunch is had and you’re cleaning up together, he finishes washing up while you put away the leftovers, dancing to the soft music you had playing. 

“I could do with a nap right now,” you yawn, feeling full from lunch. 

He lets out a small laugh, “You definitely need to take those vitamins, darling.“

“I know, I know, doctor’s orders. I will. But I also want to have a little siesta,” you tell him while he dries off his hands, “come nap with me for like 20 minutes. You know how effective it is for our bodies to have a nap midday?”

“I’m well aware, yes,” he smiles and lets you drag him into the bedroom where you crawl into the bed and hold up the comforter. You climb in together and you burrow yourself against him, pushing your leg between his, eyes fluttering shut. 

He rubs your back gently as he settles down himself, fingers starting to trace lazy patterns across your back. “I love you so much, Ken,” you murmur, eyes still closed, “you’re so good to me. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I love you more, honey. You deserve the world, so I’m going to do my best to give it to you,” his soft voice and kind words makes your bottom lip tremble a bit. 

“You do. I want to give you the world too,” you whisper. 

“You are my world,” he affirms. 

“Ugh, stop trying to out-romance me,” you whine quietly and you both laugh softly. 

Sleep overcomes you and you have what was probably one of the top 5 best naps of your life. You wake up to find the sun setting slowly, creating a beautiful orange hue through the room. You stretch like a cat and roll over, finding Nanami sat up and reading a book about Malaysia. 

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hi, Mr. Redbull,” you quip and he chuckles. You tap the book, “You want to go back again?”

“Yes, at some point, I would love that,” he nods and smiles to himself as he reminisces about your honeymoon together there, from which you’d returned 6 months ago. It was incredible there, a truly dreamy place which couldn’t be described as you’d have to see it in person to grasp the beauty. 

“We’ll definitely visit again someday,” you promise and he hums in agreement. 

“Maybe next time, we’ll have children to take there. I bet they’d love the beach,” he says casually, setting the book aside. 

You’d talked about children plenty of times — the suggestion to get blood tests being a preparation for taking that step — but it was the softness of his suggestion, of taking your hypothetical children to one of his favourite places on the planet…it warmed your heart. 

“Definitely. When we have children, we will absolutely take them to Malaysia.”

Later that evening, you find Nanami stood at  the kitchen counter, carefully putting the vitamins into your new pill box. 

You walk over and lean your elbows onto the counter as you watch him. 

Once he’s satisfied that you have one of each vitamin in each segment, he closes it up. A thought clouds your mind and you bite your lip. “Baby, I think I need some more vitamin D,” you tell him with a serious face. 

His brows furrow a little as he looks to you, “I put one vitamin D in each day, honey, that should be more than enough.”

You shake your head. “No, I definitely need more vitamin D,” you sigh exasperatedly and he watches you carefully. 

“Sweetheart, you really don’t need more than one a day,” he explains gently. You almost break character to laugh but you manage to keep a straight face. 

“But what if I want it multiple times a day?” You ask him, eyes glinting with mischief. 

He catches on at this and his face relaxes, eyes becoming hooded, pulling you closer to him. “I see. You do know the risks of taking so much vitamin D, don’t you?” 

“Of course. I’ll turn into the sun,” you muse and he lets out a laugh, lips ghosting over yours. 

“You will certainly be glowing like the sun once I put a baby in you,” he murmurs and you feel a shiver go through your body, straight to your core. 

“Ken…” you sigh softly, hands trailing up his big arms and grasping his triceps as he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. You hum against him as he crowds you against the counter, one hand planted on it and the other coming up to cup your jaw while his lips are locked with yours. 

His thumb gently caresses your cheek, letting out a soft moan against you as you press your tongue against the seam of his lips and push your hips into his. “Hm…turn around, honey.”

Oh. 

You feel your clit throb at the lowness of his voice, his direct order, and how your wetness pools at your core. You break the kiss and he immediately grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head, revealing your bare breasts. He connects your lips briefly again, not being able to help himself from cupping your breast in his hand and teasing your nipple. Reluctantly, he breaks away and guides your hips to turn you around. 

With you bent over the counter, he steps up behind you, his lips trailing over your cheek, down your jaw, and over your shoulder while his hands roam your body, thumbs hooking inside the waistband of your pants and underwear and slowly dragging them down, down, down.  

You feel the air hitting your bare ass and thighs as he pushes your clothing off, letting the bunched fabric fall down the rest of the way from your knees. 

He continues to kiss his way over your back, hands massaging your hips and up your sides to cup both your breasts. The feeling of his hot breath fanning over your skin, and his lips tenderly pressing kisses down your back makes your insides tingle with electricity. “My pretty wife,” he hums as he kisses your lower back and crouches down on the floor behind you, sliding his hands down your sides and hips, over your outer thighs and finally coming to rest on your ass.

He grasps the flesh with a grunt, the sound making you clench. You can’t help but let out soft mewls at the feeling of his large, strong hands groping your ass, his hot lips blazing a trail of fire all the way down. You push your hips back against his hands and he hums appreciatively, spreading your ass and groaning deeply at the sight of the wetness waiting for him. 

“S’this all for me, sweetheart?” He sighs, deciding not to waste another moment and plants his lips onto your lower ones. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of it, being thrown into the deep end, but this — his beautiful, skilled mouth on you — was absolutely not something you’d protest against. 

“O-Oh! Y…mmm…yes, all for you, Ken,” you mewl as you hold onto the counter, feeling his hot tongue lap at your puffy folds. He drags his tongue up and down, gathering your juices and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

He fucking loves this. Loves having his face buried against you, eating you out from behind. 

You find your hips rocking slowly on their own accord, back to meet his sinful tongue, when he sucks on your clit and pulls a lewd moan from you. “A-ah, mmh…” the sound of which makes his cock throb with need. 

The man is a multitasker, you know this. While he’s busy pushing his tongue into your entrance, making you grip the counter tighter, you hear him fumbling with opening his pants. You turn your head to look back and are met with the delicious sight of him fisting his thick cock. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, honey,” he sighs before he’s pushing his tongue into you again. Your head falls forward as the pleasure takes over your body. He’s tongue fucking you like his life depends on it, groaning against you while he’s fucking his fist at the same time. 

He buries his face against you with a low groan, squeezing his dick, darting his tongue in and out of you before he drags it up over your clit and licks a thick stripe along the cut of you. 

Your legs quake a little at how he’s tending to your body so attentively, but you manage to keep yourself steady. He slides his free hand around you, his fingers locating your clit with expert precision within milliseconds. This action turns you on even more, the arousal rushing through your body and your pussy gushing with wetness because of how well he could map your body. 

He notes the extra wetness on his tongue and he lets out a low hum of approval, slowly circling your throbbing clit with the pads of his fingers. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” He croons against you, taking his fingers away to wrap his lips on your clit and suck attentively. Your gasp and your back arches, one hand automatically going back to thread into his hair. 

“Hhhh…mmph…” you keen, your ability to form proper sentences compromised from your husband’s ministrations on your body. 

“Use your words for me, honey,” he smirks against you as he continues to devour you, lapping, sucking, fucking, and enjoying the delicious taste of you, inching you closer to the edge. 

“Ken…” you whine, “I’m— I’m gonna cum...” You tug on his hair, mussing it up, pushing your hips against him desperately. He becomes sloppier then, and you pant, feeling the mess trickling down your inner thighs. 

He fucks his tongue into you a few more times, and then suddenly the waves of pleasure wash over your body, overwhelming your senses. Your inner walls clench, wetness leaking from you, as you let out dirty moans of Kento’s name. 

He jerks himself off at the sound of you, the feeling of you cumming, but he stops before he can reach his peak. His moans reverberate through you, the vibrations of them only adding to your pleasure; you lean over the counter, catching your breath as he laps your juices up eagerly, not sparing a drop. 

When he’s cleaned you up with his tongue, he kisses his way back up your body, hands roaming over your shorter frame, coming to rest on the softness of your breasts. It’s like he can’t touch you enough, like he wants to touch you everywhere, all at once. You stand back up and lean into him, head falling onto his shoulder so you can kiss him. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your neglected ones sparks the fire in you once again, the butterflies in your tummy stirring to life. 

He slowly turns you to face him while you share deep, long kisses. You grip the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up over his head, his arms lifting to accommodate the swift movement. Your arms slide around his waist and you cling to him as he holds you. “You’d better give me that vitamin D now,” you tell him with a warning tone. 

He releases a soft chuckle, breaking away from you to stretch over the counter and grab your pill box, “They’re right here, hon.”

You flick his nipple in response and he feigns being hurt before both of you laugh. Your joined laughter quietens down however when you wrap your hand around his thick, leaking cock, and pump him slowly while you gaze into his eyes. 

He’d been with you for years, married for half of one, but he knew that he’d never, ever, get tired of that salacious look that you gave him when you wanted him. 

He wets his lips as he returns your longing gaze, and he lets out a quiet, “Fuck, sweetheart…” while you thumb his slit and tease the sensitive underside of his tip. 

Your hand falls away when he crouches down a few inches and lifts you easily, placing you on the kitchen counter. You watch as his cock bobs up and down from this swift movement. Instantly, your legs fall open and you use the heels of your feet to pull him towards you; the need to have him inside you was becoming unbearable. 

You felt the emptiness within you, the deep, carnal desire to have him fill you and stretch you out. 

He crushes his lips against yours again, sighing, “You keep looking at me like that, baby, and I’ll cum too soon.”

You whimper against his lips, feeling him nudging the fat head of his cock along your folds, teasing your swollen bud before trailing down to your quivering entrance that was desperate to be filled. 

His tongue tangles with yours, your hands gripping onto his broad shoulders as he presses his tip into you and slowly pushes his hips forward. 

You bite on his lip, breath catching when he pushes past the ring of resistance. He doesn’t go far before he’s drawing his hips back and then thrusting into you again shallowly. A whine escapes you while he’s working you open on his delicious cock, taking his time to make sure you’re adjusted to his girth. 

He rolls his hips steadily, dipping his head and wrapping his lips around the taut peak of your nipple, sucking eagerly. At this, your cunt greedily sucks him in more and he moans to your skin, fucking into you more, and then he slides all the way home, bottoming out inside your snug walls. Your face twists in pleasure, eyes rolling back in your head. He stays there for a moment, his pubic bone flush against yours. 

“So damn perfect,” he murmurs, and your walls flutter around him in response. This earns a deep groan from him and he draws his hips back and starts to fuck into you harder.

You brows knit together and you inhale sharply as you feel the heavy drag of him inside you, how he pulls out so that only the fat head of him stays inside, and how he thrusts back into you completely, feeding you every inch of his delicious cock.

Your legs are locked around his hips but with each deep thrust from him, your mind becomes hazy and your legs loosen up a little. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he noses your neck and keeps a steady pace, the wet thump, thump, thump of his hips hitting yours filling the kitchen. 

Your mouth falls open and your body becomes a little lax, your breaths coming out shakily as you focus on the pleasure coursing through your body while he impales you on his cock repeatedly. “Feels s-so…so good, baby…making me feel s-so good,” your voice comes out breathy and high pitched, to which his dick twitches while he’s fucking into you. 

He’s thorough in his approach while you hold onto his neck for balance, and he’s stimulating every part of your beautiful body: lips locked, tongues tangled, fingers rolling your hard nipple between them, his other fingers teasing circles on your throbbing clit, and his cock stretching you out so delightfully that you can only let out pornographic moans.

You’re both panting against each other’s lips as he picks up the pace and thrusts into you faster, with abandon. He rests his forehead against yours, cheeks flushed. “God— I fucking love you… n’ I love fucking you…” his low voice, his words, they go straight to your cunt. 

He takes his hands from your nipple and clit, sliding one arm under your waist as he bows over you more, the other hand gripping your hip in a bruising hold. “Ken…” you moan, “you’re gonna m…make me bruise…”

It’s not so much a protest but more a statement. “Damn right I am…you n’ I both know you love when I mark you up,” he husks, his lips connecting to your neck and sucking a dark mark onto your pulse point, bucking his hips into yours harder, eager to make you cum on his cock. 

Your tits bounce from the force of his thrusts, a sight which he goes crazy for. He’s getting closer to the edge, his mind hazy from how your pussy is greedily sucking him in, enveloping him in your tight warmth every time he slides home. 

You mewl, holding onto his shoulder as he ravages your cunt, letting out shaky breaths while you bring your gaze down to watch the  sensuous way his cock would sink into your wet cunt over and over again. You both love watching because it adds to the pleasure, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge from it. 

“Ken…” you moan, bringing your gaze to his at the same time he looks up to meet yours. He almost cums from that so far gone, cockdrunk look in your eyes, but he manages to keep it at bay for a little longer. 

“Look so damn beautiful taking me like this, sweetheart,” he croons, “give it to me, baby. Cum for me.” A few more pounds of his hips and you’re pushed over the edge, like your body was waiting for his instruction. 

You cry out when your orgasm hits you, walls pulsing so tightly around him that he slows down to feel every clench properly. Your legs quake, and you lock them higher up his hips as your body convulses from the strength of your orgasm. 

Wetness coats his lower abdomen— he lives for getting messy with you like so— and he fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own release while he guides you through yours. 

He grabs one of your legs and pushes it up, using it as leverage to fuck into your heat faster. “Cum in me, Ken…wanna make a baby with you,” you sigh, eyes hooded as he pounds into you. 

He felt like an animal in that moment but your breathy voice, your words, the tight grip of your cunt on him suddenly all overwhelms his senses and he falls into the throes of bliss with a loud groan, crashing his lips to yours as he releases his hot ropes inside you, painting your walls white. 

You cling to each other, sharing open mouthed, dirty kisses. Your plush walls milk him dry, and he stays inside you, your juices and his cum seeping out around him as you both catch your breaths. 

“Wanna make a baby, huh…” he pecks your lips a few more times before gazing down at you properly. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum and nod, kissing him again. 

“Hm…we better get more practice in, then.”

You squeal when he picks you up all of a sudden, still inside you, and carries you into your bathroom, quickly turning on the water in the shower and stepping inside with you.  

“Wh— Kent—oh!” You moan the second syllable of his name as he presses you up against the wall and starts to fuck into you again. 

There was something so dirty, so sinful about how he was fucking his cum into you, how insatiable he was from the mere mention of getting you pregnant. 

It’s like a switch had been flipped; you gasp when he takes your legs and pushes them up, pinning you by dangling your legs over the hinge of his arms and holding you in that bent position against the wall with his strong arms. 

The water runs over both of your sweaty bodies, the small enclosure of the shower only accentuating his low grunts and the loud smacks of your hips colliding. He is truly animalistic, rutting his hips into yours, pounding into your cunt desperately, because nothing made him harder, nothing made him more feral for you than the idea of making a family with you. 

You hadn’t had much time to come down from the high of your first orgasm — neither had he — so it’s not long again before another orgasm is creeping up on the both of you. 

“I’m close, Ken, mm…” you clutch onto his broad frame, bringing your lips to his in a needy kiss. 

“Me too, honey,” he pants against your lips, “cum with me.”

The base of his cock grazes your clit and his balls slap against your ass with each punishing thrust into you, and you let out a cry from the sudden intensity of the orgasm that overcomes you. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Kento’s voice is strained as he keeps fucking into you but his hips stutter because your pussy is gripping him so tightly he can’t even think straight. 

Tears sting at your eyes because you’ve cum so hard, and when he sees this, he feels himself start to cum again. This time, he slows down, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he buries his face into your neck and releases his hot load into your waiting cunt. 

“Honey…” he breathes out, and you run your nails gently over his muscled back, kissing his temple. “I love you so much,” he mumbles tiredly, spent, but knowing he couldn’t put you down yet because you wouldn’t be able to stand. 

You cup his face in your hands as you sigh contently, and bring his face to yours to kiss him once again, “I love you more, you animal.”

He lets out a quiet laugh to your lips, “Can you blame me?”

*

It’s about 6 weeks later that you find yourself sat on the toilet, peeing on a couple of tests. There had been a noticeable change in your body, you felt with certainty that something was different. That and, of course, your period being late. 

You finish peeing and clean up after putting the tests on the counter. You dry your hands and inhale a deep breath while you wait, peeking but not expecting anything because the time hadn’t finished yet. 

But there it was. Two lines in BOLD, on the cheap one, and an affirmative ‘Pregnant’ on the other. You blink at the confirmation and let out a laugh; you’d heard about this before, how tests can show up quicker than expected if the pregnancy hormone is extremely high. He had knocked you up, alright. 

You’re elated. His dream, your dream, of having a family, it was becoming reality. You slip out of the bathroom and into the living room, where he was reading. 

 “I think I need to get some other vitamins, my love,” you tell him as you sit next to him and slide your arms around his neck, kissing his shoulder over his shirt. 

He brings his gaze to you. “But the doctor said that your levels for everything else were healthy, sweetheart…?”

He sees the way that your eyes sparkle and he relaxes a little. “Well…I think we need to revisit the doctor. I’m going to need some folic acid.”

He blinks at you; it clicks immediately. The joy that spreads across his expression is undeniable, “Honey…you’re…you’re pregnant?” 

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

Divider by cafekitsune

[paprikaquinn]

“You slept together, didn’t you?”

You choke on your coffee, fighting for air as a dramatic fit of coughing keeps you from regaining your composure. “What do you mean?” you croak.

Shoko shrugs, sipping calmly from her own cup. “Exactly what I said.”

“Wha— why do you…what?!”

“Gojo’s been awfully cheerful this morning” she continues, a corner of her lips lifting with amusement, “he wouldn’t shut up about how great of a weekend he had.”

You look at her over the rim of the cup, frowning. “What do I have to with that?”

The brunette looks unimpressed by your answer, and chooses to look at you silently while her brown eyes stare into yours. “… really? You are going to deny it? To me?”

“Why do you assume we slept together?” you whisper shout at her, looking around the teacher’s lounge with poorly concealed panic.

“Why do you look so nervous all of a sudden?”

Shoko looks smug, grinning knowingly as she inclines her head to the side. “You seriously didn’t notice?”

“What didn’t I notice?” you press, crossing your arms over your chest.

She chuckles, taking her sweet time to clarify her cryptic answer.

“You have a hickey the size of Honshu on the side of your neck.”

[paprikaquinn]

a/n two posts in one day… ruh roh… (I miss gojo </3)

ex!satoru who doesn’t really understand the concept of being an ex. he just thinks you want a break from him. but permanently separated? hell no, he could never understand that.

“‘toru… things aren’t gonna work out between us,” you begin as he sits in front of you at your dinner table in your shared apartment. he looks at you with no emotion, as if you didn’t just end things. “we’re growing in separate ways, and i feel i would only—satoru.”

you could scream at him—he’s not paying attention, scrolling on his phone instead. he shows you the order he placed for dinner, coming in twenty minutes. of course, he bought your favorite.

“satoru, can you please be serious for one minute?” you huff, clearly annoyed that he’s not listening while he’s purchasing things he knows will make you swoon.

“i am serious,” he says, placing his phone down to observe your breathtaking features.

“you weren’t even listening,” you say, crossing your arms as you slouch in the seat.

“baby, of course i’m listening—you’re crazy if you think i’m leaving you,” he coos condescendingly, and you roll your eyes.

ex!satoru who, in fact, respected your decision and gave you your personal space, not exactly broken up in his eyes, just a temporary break.

ex!satoru who stays over at suguru’s place for a few months, whining every day and night about how he missed being in your arms.

“i miss her,” gojo says as he pets geto’s cat, miyu, while geto himself groans as he cleans his apartment.

“can you at least help out and stop whining like a bitch,” geto says, adjusting the pillows neatly on his couch. this only causes gojo to frown and embrace miyu in a tight hug, nuzzling his face in her soft fur as she tries to get away from his grasp.

“and let go of miyu, she doesn’t want you holding her.”

ex!satoru who continues to send you money, always sending you hundreds and hundreds of dollars for food, shopping, and especially paying for your necessities. he doesn’t care that you work for yourself—you’re still his baby, and he loves spoiling you. his money is your money.

unknown number sent $500! —go get some food, baby~ ♡

unknown number sent $600! —please unblock me on insta

unknown number sent $300! —i love u, mama

ex!satoru who chokes on his breakfast when shoko says you’re going on a date. gojo, never in his life, was speechless, and that really creeped out shoko and geto.

“satoru… are you good?” geto asks concernedly—even miyu jumps on gojo’s lap, sensing a difference in his character.

“yeah, i’m good…” he says calmly, placing down his utensils to pet miyu’s soft fur.

ex!satoru who does a little investigating of who this mysterious man is, finding his identity within ten minutes. he scoffs when he finds his social media—he’s nowhere near as handsome as he is. what do you see in him?

ex!satoru who sits comfortably in the luxurious restaurant where you and the mysterious man planned to go. little did you know, gojo texted the man, telling him that you’re married.

“aiko?” gojo hears a soft voice call as he turns to look at you. your eyes widen when you see gojo. this has to be some kind of joke—he is fucking crazy. you turn around, going back to the entrance, but gojo grabs your wrist.

“no, no, no, baby, please let me talk,” he pleads, and you fold from the way he calls you baby. oh, how you loved and missed the way he called you baby and claimed you as his own.

he guides you to the chair in front of him as he holds your hand, your pretty acrylics grazing his hands. he loved the way you looked well put together, his baby doll.

“my love, i promise to leave you,” he says, rubbing small circles on your hand. your heart pangs at his confession. “i just want to know how you’re doing.”

“i-i miss you so much,” you say. gojo feels like he’s hallucinating at what you just said. “shoko told me you were having a date today, and i felt so jealous—” you stammer, and gojo blinks multiple times, stunned at what you’re saying.

“this guy aiko asked me on a date, and i wanted to make you jealous,” you continue, frowning at being confused with your emotions. but gojo, on the other hand, is putting two and two together.

“give me your phone,” he sternly says. you stare at him in confusion, but you oblige, taking out your phone from your purse and handing it to him. gojo smiles as your lockscreen is still a baby photo of him. he unlocks your phone—the password still the same, his birthday.

“i was meaning to change the lockscreen,” you quickly state, not trying to look like a weirdo in front of him.

gojo goes into your contacts and clicks aiko’s contact information, calling the number. multiple rings go by, and the man on the other line picks up.

“hello—”

“shoko, i know this is you.”

you look at him and your phone in horror. shoko set you guys up by making a fake number to make you go on a date with ‘aiko’ but really you’d be with gojo.

“ahh, did my plan work? both of you kept whining about each other—it was infuriating. i had to do something,” she says on the other line, gojo clearly hearing geto’s giggles in the background.

“don’t ever do this again,” gojo says as he hangs up the phone. the two of you burst out in laughter, but for you, it’s more embarrassing that you were flirting with shoko through texts!

fiancé!satoru who proposed to you a few weeks later, he’s beyond happy to be in the arms of his baby again <3

[paprikaquinn]

gege confirming gojo was meant to be a rich househusband is so real to me. he just want to be taken care of. just imagining him cuddling with you after your 9 to 5 job. you insist on working just to ensure the well being of both of you even if he can pay for you for the rest of your life. gege also confirming that he goes to sleep at 4 am and wakes up at 7 am. The both of you definitely work on fixing his sleep schedule and he always sleeps easier with you in his arms. he still wakes up early to make you coffee and breakfast. all he ever asks for in return is to be coddled and kept close to your heart.