ALL'S FAIR (IN LOVE AND MERGERS) ✩ SATORU GOJO
✴︎ summary: you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend.
✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, arranged marriage au, gojo and reader are both heirs to large companies, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, lots of fluff + banter, gojo is down bad, geto makes an appearance, handjobs (f!+m! receiving), oral (f!+m! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dom! + sub!gojo, degradation (slut), breeding kink, gojo has a praise kink, semi public sex, office sex, tiny amount of sexting, under the desk oral (m!receiving), pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby), pregnancy mentions
✴︎ wc: 16,381 (why do i do this to myself?)
“Why do you look so down, Princess?” Your eyes flicker up from your book, forcing your expression to stay disinterested — the one emotion Satoru hated, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your fiancé?”
“Don’t call yourself that,” you snap, and his lips curl at your reaction, “what are you so smug about? You’re stuck in the same position as me,”
“And what’s that?” You close your book, glaring daggers at his all too perfect face.
“Marrying your worst enemy.”
It wasn’t always like this.
Satoru Gojo used to be your friend — your best friend in fact. The fact your families’ companies were rivals often meant you ran in the same social circles more often than not. And it meant more than one boring adult party that the two of you were stuck with each other.
The two of you had become inseparable — attending the same prestigious schools with the most pretentious children, though the two of you were no exceptions. But you liked to think you were.
And you didn’t realize your feelings for Satoru, until someone else had.
“Do you want to hang out on Friday?” You ask, flipping through the channels as the two of you watched TV, looking for something other than the second half of movies and the reruns of shows you didn’t care for.
“I can’t, I’m going to the formal,” he replies, not looking up from his phone, and you pause.
“You’re going to that?” You raise an eyebrow, “we’ve never went,”
“Well I never had someone ask me who I wanted to go with,” his eyes flicker up from his phone, a smirk on his lips, “you jealous?”
Your reply leaves your lips like whiplash, “You wish,” you cross your arms, but you can’t help ask the question burning on your lips, “who are you going with?”
“Akari,” and you scoff, “what?”
“That girl goes out with a new guy every week,” you shake your head, “you’re better off staying at home with me,”
“So you are jealous,” he hums, leaning back on the couch, “if you wanted to go with me, all you had to do was ask, Princess,”
Your cheeks flush, which you make up for in indignancy and sharp words, “Don’t call me that,” the nickname your family affectionately had called you had become Satoru’s favorite thing to call you, “I’m just telling you to be careful — that girl isn’t someone you should trust with your feelings,”
“I think I’ll use my own judgment instead of someone who hasn’t even been on a single date before,” his tone is far too biting and his accuracy is far too sharp — and you can’t stop your face from dropping, and his lips part - regret flashing across his features, “princess—“
“Go home, Satoru,” you rise, brushing past him, “you know the way out,”
“Princess—“ he tries to reach for your hand, but you slap it away. His hand retracts like he’d been burned.
“Please, go,” you open the door for him, and he does, and little do you know that would be one of the last times you spoke.
The day of the formal arrives, the two of you hadn’t seen each other outside of class since that day. But Satoru did see you at the dance that night - on the arm of his former best friend, Suguru — the same one he had a falling out with a year ago. He doesn’t say a word to you, but you don’t miss the hurt in his eyes - but you wonder why it was there in the first place - and why he was acting like you put it there.
It all goes to hell after.
The Gojo Corporation poaches one of your family’s biggest clients in a shady backroom deal, breaking their truce and your family’s trust. Arguments and stress reach a peak over the phone and lines are drawn and metaphorical guns are drawn.
And you and Satoru are caught in the crossfire.
Not that you weren’t firing shots yourself.
It wasn’t until you pulled Satoru into a secluded classroom, and you shut the door behind the two of you. Even with the sunglasses perched on his nose as always, he flinches in the bright light of the sun setting behind you, dipping the classroom in a blazing orange — light sensitivity nearly required him to wear his sunglasses out, but he certainly made a statement in them — though what didn’t he make a statement in?
“What are we going to do about our families?” you chew your lip — you had listened this morning to your father rant about the Gojo family — unkind words to say about them all, even Satoru himself, who your father had treated as a second son — and now he was grilling you about what you had told him about the family business.
“What can we do?” His arms are crossed and his gaze is upwards, “they are going to do what they want,”
You stare at him, your heart cracks, blood rushing in your ears, “Satoru, if this gets worse, we won’t be able to be friends,” you refuse to let your voice break.
“So what? I know the way out, don’t I?” But your heart did break, “I’m sure Suguru could comfort you,”
Your eyes burn, but you can’t, you can’t let him see you cry, “Why are you so upset? You had a date—“
“And mine wasn’t the person who backstabbed me,” he bites back, “what my family did is done, and so are we,” and he doesn’t look back when he leaves.
And it was good — because he didn’t see you cry.
And now you sat with him in your living room, trying to process the fact you would be legally married soon enough.
“Worst enemy? I know you liked to embellish princess, but that seems excessive,” he snorts, “glad to know I haven’t escaped your thoughts these years,”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” and he grins his shit eating grin, and it’s almost as if no time has passed, except the person who sits before you isn’t a seventeen year old with an attitude of a shithead — it’s an adult man (albeit with the same attitude).
“Don’t need to - you already do that for me, baby,” he winks, and you don’t know whether you want to slap him or strangle him. Either way, you wanted him to shut up, “shouldn’t we at least try to make the best of this?”
“The best of what?” You scoff, ready for your veins to burst out of your head, if only to spare you the agony of this conversation, “Gojo, we were best friends a million years ago and then we weren’t and now we’re getting married - all on the whims of our families, so how do we make the best of it?”
He pauses a moment, almost thoughtfully, “I was your best friend?”
And you rise to your feet, “this is impossible,” you brush past him, but he catches you by your wrist, his thumb grazing your pulse.
“Princess, I’m sorry,” he says, and you stop, meeting his gaze reluctantly, his lips part, “that you were so annoying in high school—“
“Fuck you,” and you storm off as he cackles, but you don’t notice the small smile on his lips that stays as he watches you.
And nor do you hear him say, “God, I missed you.”
“This is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath, as you place back the millionth dress you looked at, “we’re hardly celebrities but we have to make a public appearance?”
Your families wanted the marriage to be portrayed as a love marriage in the media - childhood friends falling in love after reconnecting - the thing of love stories. The thing that would circle the drain on social media on cute threads of meetcutes and what ifs. When in fact, you were being forced on a shopping date with an already well paid and positioned paparazzi ready to take pictures of this charade.
“You may not be, Princess, but I am quite the catch,” Satoru takes the attention in stride, not only of the paparazzi, but the passersby who gawked at the two of you. It was true, Satoru was nearly always listed as an eligible bachelor in far too many of these lists that existed, if not the eligible bachelor, and yet here you were, glued to his side like some taudry accessory.
“So does that mean if I just toss you away, someone else will catch you?” You grumble, and he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses.
“Like it or not, you caught me,” he flashes you those pearly whites, and you supposed he blinded you as you stumble forward, tripping. But you don’t kiss the pavement — but you almost wish you do. He catches you, his arm around your waist, the other on your shoulder, and his eyes graze over you in a flash of concern, and then amusement, “and I’m not going anywhere this time,”
And you flush, the clicks of cameras in the distance snapping you back to reality, as you right yourself with a fake smile plastered on your lips. You brush his shirt off as lovingly as you can, “And if I go?”
His lips only curl into his obnoxiously charming smile, as he gestures for you to walk on, “I’ll follow, Princess,”
Finally the trip is over, and Satoru is driving the both of you back, “I’m surprised you took a day off for this,” he remarks, “usually you work all week,”
“Well I wasn’t given much of a choice, now was I?” And then you glance at him, furrowing your brow, “how do you know how often I work?”
“What’s the phrase? Keep your enemies close, and your lovers closer?” He gives a wry grin as you scowl at him, “you’re not surprised I kept tabs on you, are you?”
“Well, no,” because you did the exact same. You pinned the blame on late nights and doom scrolling on social media — curiosity killed the cat.
“And now I know you kept tabs on me,” he looks far too satisfied with himself, “I’m flattered,”
“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off, “it’s not like you’re that interesting to begin with,”
“Sure,” he smirks, and then you glance outside, noticing you were getting further out from home rather than closer.
“Where are we going?” You sit up, glancing around — you didn’t recognize the area.
“Oh, you didn’t think our date was over yet, did you?” his lips curl, his eyes still on the road, “we are just going to a more private location,”
“If you take me to a hotel, I will slap you,” you murmur, and he laughs, a sound that makes your stomach flip.
“I didn’t know a princess’s mind could be in the gutter,” he remarks, his fingers flexing on the wheel, a small infinity tattoo on his ring finger, and your mind really then all but fled to the gutter as you thought what else he could use those fingers for.
“Oh my mind goes a lot of places,” this was growing more dangerous — for your tongue and for your heart.
And he notices your gaze flickering to his hands, and his lips curl, “I think I’d like to familiarize myself with the places your mind goes, Princess,” You flush, “but that’s for a different day.”
“Where are you taking me anyway?”
“We’re almost there, just enjoy the ride,” you eventually pull up to a park, and he leaves the car, opening the door for you, “after you, my lady,”
You slide out of the car, as he shuts the door behind you, and then pulls a basket out of the back, “Is there tape and rope in there?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Didn’t know you were into that,” he winks, as you glare at him, “it’s a picnic basket - this is a nice spot to watch the sunset,”
“You watch sunsets?”
“Only with you,” you roll your eyes.
“Such a dork - are these the lines you use on all your dates? And don’t say only with me,” you add quickly, and he snorts.
“You catch on quick,” and he takes your hand, leading you along, “come on,”
His hand envelops yours, his fingers eventually intertwining with yours, his warmth flooding your body, but you can’t urge yourself to pull away.
A bottle of sparkling cider and a charcuterie board later, the two of you watch the sun begin its descent, blazing colors bleeding into one another.
“Why are you doing this?” You ask, looking over your glass as you sip, “even when we used to hang out, I was the one to bring the snacks,”
“Well times change,” he replies, “plus you’re the one who always stopped me from buying snacks,”
“You always bought only sweets — it was always chocolate, sugar, and desserts,” you roll your eyes, “I see you got over that,”
“Nah, I just decided to buy things I know you like,” and your heart traitorously squeezes, but then he points, “look,” and your gaze falls onto the sunset and you gasp softly.
“It’s beautiful,” you sigh, and you don’t notice Satoru’s gaze on your face, a small smile on his lips.
“It is,” and you look back at him, his eyes shifting to you again.
“You never answered my question,” you say, “why are we doing this?”
“Why wouldn’t we? We’re getting married, Princess, did you forget?” He expertly dodges the question, swiftly leaping over a landmine, but you weren’t one to mince words or hesitate to do a direct assault.
“We’re getting married, it doesn’t mean we have to date,” you tilt your head, “Gojo, tell me—“
“Call me Satoru,” his words are so soft, hesitant even, as if his words could break apart any second if he had spoken them any quieter.
It’s a fragility he doesn’t often grace you with - that’s he’s maybe never given to you, and you don’t wish to break it.
But you’re also scared - scared that this will break yours.
“Satoru,” you whisper, and he smiles — the same smile he’d greet you with when you would meet up after school, the same smile when he’d beat you at whatever game you guys were playing, and the same smile you hadn’t seen in so long, “why are you doing all of this?”
“Is it not obvious?” He’s leaning closer and you only realize that you’re doing the same when your wrist hurts from leaning on your hand.
“Nothing is obvious when it comes to you, Satoru,” his lips warm yours with his breath, and the sun has set - there’s no other explanation for the warmth blooming on your skin other than him—
Ring. Ring. Ring.
His phone ringing sends both of you flinching apart, but his eyes don’t leave you for a lingering moment, before he picks up.
“Hello,” his voice is unwavering even after the moment you shared, you barely hear what he says over the blood thundering in your ears, “yes, we’ll be home shortly. Ok. Bye,”
He turns to look back at you, “My parents were wondering where we went,” and you nod, “we should get back,” and he begins to pack away the things,
“Satoru—“ you start, but he grabs your hands, tugging you forward.
“What?” he smiles, “not ready to part with me yet, princess?”
You scowl, pushing him away, brushing past him to the car, “Forget it,”
And he catches you by your wrist and pulls you back to him, your back against his front, “I don’t want to forget it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I—”
And his phone rings again, and he sighs, showing you that it was your father this time, putting his phone on silent, “Our parents have impeccable timing,” and the moment is broken, as the two of you walk back to the car in relative silence, the sun long sunk below the horizon, and the moment along with it.
The wedding comes and goes without much ado — it was a private ceremony done with only your families and a few close family friends. And aside from a photo shoot that was to be “leaked” of the two of you looking far too lovey dovey that wound up circulating the media drain and ended up causing you and Satoru to keep a low profile for a week or two, not much of your life changed. The only thing being that you and Satoru slowly start to move in together, each moving your things into separate bedrooms, not that you’re around enough to even notice a shift as the work piled on due to the merger, only accumulates, and as do your late nights.
You come home again, back to your shared apartment, late at night, shutting the door softly behind you. You slip your shoes off, along with your jacket by the door, before setting your things down. You stretch your sore muscles, your stomach crying for mercy of the deprivation you had put it through today, and you allow it to lead you to the kitchen.
Satoru was surprisingly neat, aside from his own room that was a disaster zone not worth entering. The living spaces were always clean, as was the kitchen (though you had a sneaking suspicion he had hired a cleaning service to specifically tidy up when you were gone (due to the lingering lemony scent every surface had at times). You rummage through the refrigerator as quietly as you could, but not quietly enough as the lights flick on, and you feel akin to a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“I feel like I’ve seen the mailman more than my own wife this week,” Satoru stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame of the door, a small grin on his lips, but a hint of something else in his eyes — concern? You don’t have the time to decipher the feeling, as your mind chooses to replay the phrase “my wife” on repeat.
“The merger has been killer to deal with — all the diligence requests has buried us,” you grumble, as you grab a box of cereal off the top of the refrigerator and the milk from the inside, and he’s holding a bowl and a spoon, “thanks,” as you reach for it, he holds it away from you.
“You know there’s something called delegating that you should try sometime, princess,” he says, tilting his head, “otherwise, you’re likely to run yourself into the ground,”
“It sounds like you care,” he puts down the bowl and spoon, grabbing the cereal and milk from you, and fixing a bowl for you, as you rub your eyes, sitting on the stool by the island.
His lips curl, “Who said I didn’t?”
You lay on the counter, staring up at him, “Didn’t know my husband could be anything but annoying,” and you enjoy the way his eyebrows shoot up, and it may have been your tired eyes, but you swore a small pink flush settled his way onto his cheeks, “cute,” you mumble, the word escaping you before you could stop it.
“What?” his eyes snap to yours, but he only finds them closed, the soft snores from your lips told him you weren’t pretending, as he stares at you, biting his lip, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, “what are you doing to me, princess?” he murmurs.
And the next morning when you wake, you find yourself tucked into bed, as you roll over, to find your alarms had been turned off, and you were far too late to several meetings you had that morning.
You jolt up, before you find a note stuck to your shirt, you pause in your panic, to peel it off and read it:
Canceled your meetings for today and had your staff handle the ones they could deal with. You’re taking a break. You need it. - Satoru.
You wanted to protest, but even as you willed yourself to try and check your email, your body was screaming in agreement with Satoru, and you sighed, lying back down in bed, as you drifted into a dreamless sleep, with the note still in your hand.
~~~~~
“Gojo, get back in bed,” you cross your arms in front of his doorway, “you’re sick,”
“I’m fine,” he pouts, his normally pale skin flushed with a red tinge that gave away his fever, his eyes bloodshot from a restless night, and yet he still looked as perfect as ever, if not a bit rumpled from his askew hair and ruffled clothes, “I have to—”
“Rest,” you say, gently pushing him backwards towards his bed, “you need rest. You made me rest, and now it’s your turn,”
“But—”
“Satoru,” and the use of his name stops him in his tracks, as his knees buckle as his legs hit the end of his bed, “please?”
His resistance crumbles, “Princess, I’m fine—” and you press your forehead to his, making his breath catch, your face far too close far too fast.
“You’re burning up,” you ease him back into bed, as you roll your sleeves up, “will you be okay? I’m going to run out and get some supplies - have you taken any medicine?”
He shakes his head, “You can send out someone,” he says, reaching for his phone, but you grab it, “Princess-“
“I’m texting everyone that you’re sick and that you can’t make it in for the next two days while you recover,” you pocket his phone, putting it on silent, “consider this payback,” and you’re pulling on your jacket, “and I’m going to get you some things. I don’t need to send someone out. Do you want anything? I can’t get anything sweet because it will make your cough worse, but is there anything that you want?”
He shakes his head, as you snap your fingers and head out of the room, before returning with cold medicine, “I’ll give you this for now, and then I’ll grab some more while I’m out,”
You pour the medicine into the cup, and he sits up as best he could, reaching for the medicine cup, but you cup his chin, feeding it to him. He feels like his body is burning hotter from your touch than it is the fever, “I have to make sure you drink all of it, you can’t leave half of it in the cup like you did when we were kids,”
“You remember that?” he mumbles, as you help him lie down again, your hands gentle as you help lean back, and you tilt your head.
“I remember every ridiculous thing you did,” you snort, as you check to make sure you got everything — phone, wallet, keys — “just rest here, and call me if you need anything, ok?” his eyes are already starting to droop, heavy with sleep, and he gives a small nod.
And he catches you by your wrist, “Do you have to go?” he mumbles, pulling your hand close to his face, “I don’t want you to go,” his words slur, and he’s asleep in a moment, his hand still clutching yours to his face, lips brushing against your palm.
Heat flares up your cheeks, as you stand, motionless, his soft snores filling the room, as you manage to tug your hand away, and you stand over him, his mouth in an adorable pout, as sweat glistened on his forehead, white locks sticking to the damp skin. You leave for a moment to grab a cold compress for his forehead, and you come back, brushing his hair back to place the compress on. He shivers ever so slightly, but you just rub his head slowly, and he drifts back into sleep.
“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, and you wonder, how often has Satoru been cared for by maids or employees rather than his family? How often had they passed the buck of caring for their son to others as if it was more of a chore than a privilege to take care of someone they loved.
You leave his phone on video call with yours so you can keep an eye on him as he sleeps, even if you were going down the street, you didn’t want to leave him alone completely. Instead of music, you listened to the cacophony of his soft snores and shifting of his sheets. You grabbed the things you needed - medicine, supply for meals, vitamin water, vitamin c supplements, and anything else you could think of.
You return, door shutting softly behind you as you hang up the call, and set everything down on the counter. You poke your head into Satoru’s room to find him still fast asleep, and you remove the cold compress, going to replace it with a new one, but his hand catches yours as it brushes your forehead, and he mumbles your name.
And you flush — were you sure you weren’t getting sick at this point?
You sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “You’re as touchy as you were when we were kids,” and he was — there wasn’t a moment that Satoru wasn’t all over you before the ages of puberty — holding hands, hugging, even laying on top of you — but it was innocent. But even as you got older, it was poking, it was a leg over yours, it was grabbing your wrist instead of your hand.
And now, your hand was dwarfed by his, consuming your wrist and hand with his own, and it was so warm — though exacerbated by his fever. And you couldn’t help but want to lace your fingers through his. But — you pulled your hand away and replace his cold compress — you couldn’t afford thoughts like that.
Not now.
You cooked soup for him, filled with vegetables and nutrients that he clearly did not get enough of, made freshly squeezed orange juice, and put the supplements you wanted him to take on the tray you had found in the kitchen.
You washed your hands, as you start to clean up, your back to his room, and you hear Satoru say your name.
You turn and see him in the doorway, “What are you doing?”
“I should be asking you that,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes, “what’s all this?”
“Lunch,” you walk over, waving him back into bed, “you need to rest,”
“Did you make me lunch?” he asks slowly, and you help him back into bed, as he frowns, “you didn’t have—”
“You’re my husband, Satoru,” you say, tilting your head, “I’m going to take care of you and not let you work yourself to the bone while you have a cold,”
And his lips curl at the words slowly, “Your husband,” he repeats, as if the words were foreign to him, and your cheeks flush as your words that were embarrassing enough to say linger in the air, “thank you,” he mumbles, as you nod, trying to calm your utterly burning cheeks before entering with the tray.
Satoru sits in bed still, more coherent than a few minutes before, a small smile on his lips as you enter his view, and you place the tray carefully on his bed, “Will you feed me?” And your eyes flit up to his innocent baby blues full of skies that you couldn’t say no to — and he knew that, “please?”
And now you’re feeding him, your lips carefully blowing on the hot soup as you spoon fed him, and he takes each one, “is it good?”
He nods, “It is, I didn’t know you could cook. The last thing I remember you making me was a microwave brownie that you burned,” and you rolled your eyes.
“That was because you told me to microwave it for too long,” you pout, and he laughs, sending him into a coughing fit, “karma,” and he scowls at you, before his lips split into a grin, “what?”
“Must have been pretty good in my past life,” he says, as you blow on another spoonful, “to end up with a pretty little wife like you, Princess,”
And you nearly drop the spoon, a few droplets slipping from the utensil, as he makes you flustered for the eighteenth time today — “Satoru,” you chide, and you’re not even sure what you are chiding him for — his word on a loop in your mind, “i think you’re high on cold medicine, or your fever,”
You don’t think he had ever called you pretty before.
And he leans forward pressing his forehead to yours, “I have no fever right now,” he whispers, his eyes glancing at the tray, “and I haven’t taken my cold medicine yet,”
Your words catch in your throat, and you’re swallowing thickly, as your eyes drift to his lips and back again, “Toru,” and you can’t lean away from him, he’s pulling you in, like he always did.
But then he pulls back, his cheeks flushed, “I think I should lie down,” and you blink, as you nod hastily.
“Of course,” you grab the tray and flee, leaving his medicine and water on the bedside table, heart thumping against your ribs and blood rushing to your cheeks.
And you don’t hear him grumble, “If only I wasn’t sick.”
After Satoru gets better, you barely see him. It feels empty in the house without his presence. You had grown accustomed to his loud, obtrusive presence, the clothes half thrown in the laundry basket, his snacks stacked up in the pantry and sometimes on the counters, and his cologne wafting through the halls. It seems all of that has faded with time, as he does his best to spend his time at work, and away from you.
After the billionth time of this, you get a phone call from his colleague, Nanami, asking for you to come and fetch him. You furrow your brow as he texts you the address of a bar near his work, and you arrive to find him passed out at a table, drink glasses and small plates littered the tabletop, his pale skin flushed, as he snored slightly as he slept.
His colleague too was flushed, but still sat with drink in hand looking utterly irritated and bemused, “How much did he drink?”
“Maybe two drinks?” and you raise an eyebrow, “he’s a lightweight, but he likes to pretend he isn’t,” he snorts, shaking his head, “did you two have a fight?”
You tilt your head, as you check on him, fingers brushing over his skin — he was so warm from the alcohol, “No, why do you ask?”
And Satoru is mumbling your name, again and again, pouting, “Is that you, my wife?” you flush, and that was your cue to get him out of there. Nanami helps you get him to his work car, luckily that came equipped with a driver, and you slide in beside him, as he dozes, his head drifting to your shoulder. His breath is warm against your neck, as he nestles into the soft skin of your nape, and you can feel his lips move, only catching your name between soft sighs and snores.
“Satoru,” you mutter, brushing his hair from his eyes, “what did you do?”
The driver helps you get him inside, and you’re left with him, his body leaning against yours on the couch, as you rouse him, “Satoru, wake up,” your hands cup his cheeks, and his eyes flutter open blearily.
You can still smell the scent of alcohol on his breath — and you know it’s sweet from the scent that drifts from him. Sometimes you wonder if he would taste sweet with how much sugar he consumes, but you brush that thought to the back of your head, as he finally speaks.
“Are you a dream?” he murmurs, and you have to suppress your laugh at his puppy dog stare.
“Don’t think so, Satoru,” you pinch his cheek lightly, “see? I’m real,”
He smiles, so gentle that it almost takes you aback, “Too real,” his hand slides over yours, flattening it against his cheek, “your hand is so soft, just like when we were kids, and we’d always hold hands anywhere we went,”
You swallow thickly, wondering if your cheeks were hotter than his were from the alcohol, “Well my family hasn’t sold me into manual labor yet, so they’ll stay that way,” and his eyes widen almost comically.
“I wouldn’t let them do that,” he says, almost every other word slurred, “can’t do that to my wife,” and your traitorous heart squeezes, despite itself, despite everything telling you that it didn’t mean anything — that he was drunk — and the million other reasons to brush it away, your heart does what it does best — takes it to heart, “I missed you so much,”
And he’s burying his face in your shoulder, warm breath against your skin making you shiver as you hold him gently, “then why have you been avoiding me?” He’s mumbling into your shoulder now, as you can’t help but laugh, “Stop, you’re tickling me.”
And his stare lifts and settles upon you, stopping your breath in its tracks, “I didn’t want to avoid you, I just was…” he mumbles something incoherent, “I couldn’t face you,”
“Why?” and it’s objectively cute the way he pouts, his face scrunching up like a child, his brow adorably furrowed, as he mutters under his breath slurred words you can’t make out, “let’s get you to bed — if you promise not to avoid me anymore,” you hold up a finger to his face.
He nods, lips still in the same pout, “promise,” he murmurs, as you help him into bed, but as you do, he grabs you, tugging you into bed with him with a yelp, his arms trapped you against him, as his face snuggles into your back, “stay,”
Your skin burns at his touch, his face buried into your back, his arms wrapped impossibly around you, “Satoru—”
“Please?” and the resistance you have crumbles, as you sigh, relaxing as best you could into his touch, “thank you, Princess,” he mumbles something else you can’t make out, before falling asleep.
And you bite your lip, ignoring how your skin feels under his touch — how were you ever going to sleep now?
But you do.
Satoru wakes with a slightly pounding head, a small groan caught in the back of his throat, as he stirs at the bright sunlight streaming in, his eyes fluttering awake to find you. His breath catches, as he stares at you. Your mouth slightly ajar, you softly snore as you sleep, your head resting against his arm, and he swallows thickly, as memories of last night trickle in.
And he nearly groans. He had avoided you to stop himself, to hold himself back from embarrassing himself, and he had gone and pulled you into bed with him after getting drunk. How pathetic was it that it only took you referring to him as your husband for all his walls to come crumbling down? Not that those walls ever stood a chance against you — it was easy for him to pull away from everyone, as if he had a barrier around him, stopping anything from coming near. But you — you were one thing that could penetrate his infinity — and the one thing he wanted to be infinite, if only for him.
His cheeks burn at his revelations and he can only be thankful you’re still asleep as he stares at you — god, he had almost let it slip twice last night. He had mumbled it twice, but from what he remembered, you hadn’t made out the words.
His cheeks burned, god he had said the words twice, and you didn’t even hear him, but the words had left his lips. And how many years had he been waiting to say them?
His fingers caress your cheek, making sure you were still asleep before he said them for a third time, “I love you.”
“How many social events must be inflicted upon us?” you mutter, pressed next to Satoru at the bar, as Satoru sips a soda instead of the alcohol they offered — if only to avoid the disaster that was the last time. But still, the lack of alcohol only makes your touch worse without its dulling effects, “and why did we need to go to this?”
“C’mon sweetheart, it’s not so bad,” Satoru smiles, his eyes skimming over your new suit that you had donned for the occasion, “I like seeing you all dressed up,”
“Well I rather be dressed down at home,” and he raises an eyebrow and you flush, “i mean in a t-shirt and shorts, you absolute perv,”
“Whatever you say, princess,” and you’re too busy elbowing him to notice who's walking over, until you hear your name.
You spot Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pursed, as you spot Suguru holding a hand up in greeting, patented grin on his lips, “Yo!”
“Suguru, it’s good to see you,” you greet, as he sweeps you up in a hug, and you shoot a look at Satoru, nudging him to be polite at the very least.
“Satoru, long time no see,” Suguru says, and Satoru plasters a fake smile on his lips.
“It has been,” and the three of you make pleasant small talk about your work — Suguru’s family was in a business adjacent to the work your families did.
“I heard about the merger your companies are doing, how have preparations been?” you open your mouth to answer, but Satoru gets to it first, his arm curling around your waist.
“It’s been going well, our marriage was the first step after all, wasn’t it, baby?” and you flush as Satoru does, doing your best not to glare at him.
“It was,” you smile, as Suguru raises his eyebrows.
“I hadn’t heard you both had married — congratulations,”
And then you’re beckoned by your family, and you slip away for a moment, going to speak to them about one thing or another, leaving Satoru and Suguru alone.
“It’s too bad we lost touch all these years,” Satoru sips at his drink.
“You don’t have to say that, Satoru,” Suguru replies, his grin melting away, “I know part of the reason was the business with our families companies, but I also know that it was personal,” and Satoru follows his eyes to you, as you laugh at something your mother said, “how has married life been treating you both?”
And Satoru glares, his grip tight around his glass, “Is your interest personal?”
“It’s not, but I see that you still haven’t been honest with each other,” he smiles over the lip of his drink, “was this marriage arranged by your families?” and Satoru’s silence was enough to confirm it, “well you should be careful, a marriage is a fragile thing, especially without love,”
“Is that a threat?” and Suguru’s dark irises meet his, full of mirth.
“No, just an observation, Satoru,” and you make your re-appearance, looking between the pair, sensing the tension, as your hand curls around Satoru’s, “It was lovely seeing you both. I hope to see more of you.”
And with that he’s gone, “What was that about?” you ask slowly, and Satoru can’t meet your gaze, only sipping his soda, “Satoru?”
“It’s nothing, princess, don’t worry about it,” and you tilt your head, your brow furrowed.
“That’s it,” you sigh, as you glance between the two of them, Suguru’s gaze still lingering on the two of you, “I know what this is about,” you declare, stepping ever closer to Satoru, your fingers brushing at his shoulder, sending his heart into a gallop.
“Princess—” your hand is sliding up his neck, brushing at his undercut, and your lips curl.
“I didn’t know you had an undercut,” and he can’t form words to respond to you, as you tug him closer, your lips were so close now, “it’s kind of hot,” and his mouth is so dry, his eyes can’t help but flicker down to your lips again, as you lean forward, pulling his head closer, closer, closer—
And you kiss him, it's barely a brush at first, but then you pull him in again, and he can taste the wine on your lips now, as your lips meet, his eyes fluttering shut as his hand slides to cup your face, the other around your waist. And finally you part, small pants leaving your lips, as your fingers toy with the hair resting on the back of his neck, smiling at him, as if you had done this a million times before.
And he wanted to do it a million times more. His fingers trace the length of your jaw, delighting in the shiver you give as he touches you, and wondering what other noises he could pull from you.
“Is he still watching?” you whisper, as you smooth over his collar, and he blinks, his eyes following yours to Suguru, who glances at the two of you before looking away, “think we convinced him?”
And his heart sinks just as high as it had soared, “what?” he murmurs, confused.
“He suspected us, right?” you continue with the phony smile on your lips, the heated lust in your gaze, and your soft touches — and it was all enough to break him.
But he doesn’t. He’s Satoru Gojo — he can’t be allowed to break.
So he gives a smile instead, “Yeah, I think we convinced him.”
He can’t help be quiet on the drive home, and he senses your unease, fidgeting in the seat beside him, your attempts to fill the silence falling on deaf ears, and you eventually stop trying, settling to look out of the window instead, until the two of you pull inside your driveway.
You both head inside, and the door shuts behind you, and he watches you struggle to take off your heels, the buckle not cooperating, as you lift your leg to undo it.
But then he’s kneeling before you, undoing your heels for you, as you stammer, “No, Gojo, you don’t have to—”
But his touch is gentle as he helps you out of your heels, one by one, his fingers brushing against your ankles, and then he rises, and for a split second, you forgot how tall he really was.
“No, I want to, because you’re my wife,” and his fingers brush against your jaw. “And I want your thoughts to be of me when I touch you, and not of someone else,” and he tilts your chin up, thumb dragging against your lips before he kisses you.
It was gentle but insistent — and far, far too fleeting, as he pulls away, “and I’ve told you before — I’m your husband, call me Satoru.”
And with that he’s gone, leaving you speechless and alone in your entryway.
You can’t sleep. For several nights.
You replay the moment over and over, the kiss, his words, and all of it.
What the fuck. Were you really up all night because of Satoru Gojo? You lay on your stomach, kicking your feet in frustration as you bury your hot face in your pillow. Your husband was going to be the death of you.
And especially with tomorrow.
Satoru’s family was hosting an event to announce the merger, and you stood in your bathroom, getting ready. You had opted for a baby blue dress that Satoru had picked for you when he had insisted on taking you shopping. He had winked and said you could wear his gaze this way. And you had only rolled your eyes at the time, but now it felt you could feel his eyes upon you.
“You look beautiful,” and you whirl around to find him standing in your doorway, a small smile on your lips, and you flush. It doesn’t go unnoticed, “is that all it takes to embarrass you now, Princess? I used to have to work a lot harder,”
You glare at him, “Shut up,” and your eyes flick to his untied tie, and it’s unspoken, as you walk over to tie his tie for him, “how did you even tie this the day of the formal if you don’t know how to?”
“I didn’t wear one,” he shrugs, his attention making you mess up the knot twice, “I only went to make you jealous anyway,”
Your fingers pause, as your eyes meet, “What?”
“I don’t want to play games anymore, Princess,” the back of his fingers brush against your cheek, “or at least, if I’m going to play, I’m going to play to win,” and you continue tying his tie, if only to distract yourself from your stomach doing flips, “do you know how it feels to want someone for so long only to end up married, but it’s not either of your choice?” And you swallow, not daring to look at him, “because I do.”
“Satoru,” your hands are shaking now, “I-“
“I don’t expect an answer, I don’t expect anything to change,” he adjusts his tie as you finish, turning his collar down, his blue button up matching your dress perfectly, “but I wanted you to know where I stood, and know wherever you are,” his gaze rakes over your form, the same color as the dress than clung to your skin, “I’ll always be here for you,”
“Satoru—“ but he gets a call — as always with impeccable timing, his parents were asking when they would be arriving. He hangs up shortly after, offering his arm with a smile.
“Shall we?” And you take his arm, ignoring the flip your heart does when his arm curls around yours.
The drive over is uneventful, but not the same can be said for the event itself. The merger event was being held at Satoru’s childhood home — the home Satoru had grown up in and around — and never wanted to be at.
“Are you okay?” you ask, your arm still curled around Satoru’s arm, as you glance at him, his shoulders tense and lips tight, before your concern makes the tension melt away a moment, rolling off his shoulders like snow on a spring day.
“I’m fine,” and you’re unconvinced, “just this place is like time has stood still,” he chuckles, his eyes finding the place where the two of you had cracked the chandelier fucking around with a ball inside, “look, still there,”
You snort, “I’m surprised your mother never noticed,”
“She did, she gave me hell for it,” he sips his drink, “I just didn’t tell you,”
“Why?”
“There was a lot I didn’t tell you,” his eyes snap to yours, his pain almost too visceral as he glances around the room he had grown up in — and you could feel him in this room, the ghost of his past roaming the halls, “why do you think I spent so much time at your house?”
“Because of my incredible company?” you half-joke, lips forced into a small smile, but he laughs, rolling his eyes.
“That too,” he hums, his fingers tracing up and down against your wrist sending a wave of heat down your spine.
“Well, you always have an escape now, don’t you?” you intertwine your fingers, “our home is always graced with the presence of your wife,”
He grins, the first actual smile you had seen all evening, “How lucky for you that it’s also graced with the presence of your incredibly handsome husband,”
And you open your mouth to respond, before Satoru’s father interrupts, his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, making him stiffen, “Son,” and his icy blue eyes slide to you, “and my daughter, would you mind if I steal my son for a moment?” it always struck you how different his eyes were from Satoru — the coldness as opposed to the warmth.
You glance at Satoru, and he gives a slight nod, “No, of course not,” you step away, as he pulls Satoru into a side room, and you linger nearby for him, mingling as best you can, when Satoru emerges, eyes downcast and fists clenched, “Satoru-“
“I’m okay,” he plasters on an easy smile, “it’s fine—“
“We’re leaving,” you grab his hand, “let’s go,” and he’s staring at you, as you drag him from the party, wordless.
“But your parents, my parents—”
“Have done enough for us already,” you say, and the two of you walk to the car in silence, “I can drive—”
“It’s ok, I got it,” and you both shut the doors, as he begins to drive. The ride home is quiet, and you glance at him here and there, but you hold your tongue, “you’re not going to ask?”
“It’s your dad - do I need to ask?” You scoff, “It may has been years but I know he’s nothing but a bully — especially to you,”
You may have been young, but you remembered the phone calls Satoru would get, the lectures about his potential and responsibilities as the next heir, the scoldings he’d get for anything less than perfect. And you remembered the look he had the next day — the same one he had when he had come out of that room.
And you couldn’t protect him then, but you could do it now.
He sighs as he pulls the car into the driveway, “You don’t deserve that, Toru,”
“Then what do I deserve?” And he meets your gaze with glassy eyes, and you give a small smile, your fingers reaching for him, brushing along his jaw.
“Love,” and you lean across the gap of the console, across the line you had drawn, across the misunderstandings you had, and you chose him. Your fingers cup his cheek, drawing him close, as you hear his breathe hitch, “can I—”
“You don’t need to ask me even once, Princess,” and you kiss him, your lips grazing his again and again, until your lips finally slide against each other, deepening it as he presses himself against you, hand bearing against the armrest between the two of you. And you can taste the sweet taste of the strawberry dessert that he all but inhaled at the party, the hint of the soda he drank instead of wine, and something that tasted utterly and perfectly of him.
“Toru,” you murmur, but his lips keep finding yours, and you can’t breathe much less think, “I—”
He silences you with another kiss, his fingers finding purchase on the back of your neck as he tugs you impossibly closer, before his lips are tracing a path down your jaw.
“What was that, sweetheart?” he smiles against your skin, “you what?”
“You’re insufferable, you’re endlessly frustrating, and I swear I want to murder you at least twice a day,” and he smiles, as you gasp as his teeth graze your pulse, “but you’re also my best friend, and I—“ you make him meet your eyes, fingers cupping his chin, ocean blue eyes drowning you with their gaze, “I love you,”
And he blinks ever so slowly, before his lips curl into the most beautiful smile you had seen, before he’s kissing you again, as you gasp, “Toru—”
“I’m never going to stop now, Princess,” he grins endlessly, as he presses his forehead to yours, dragging a thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “waited too long for you, but I’d wait a million years to do that again,”
“So should I make you wait?” you tease, and he’s looking like a kicked puppy, pouting and wide eyed, before he’s pressing butterfly kisses to your face, and you’re laughing, “I’m just kidding, baby—”
And he pauses, “‘Baby?’” and his grin is a million watt, as he kisses you again, “never thought I’d see the day you’d call me a pet name,”
Your noses brush as you both laugh, “Well, you are a big baby,” and he pouts again, and you kiss them, “but you’re my baby,”
And you barely remember how you manage to stumble into your home. Frantic touches and hurried kisses and fumbling keys. As soon as the door slams shut, he has you pressed against it, fingers busy with undoing your buttons, as he grins against your mouth.
“Know how long I wanted you? How long I dreamt of this?” he bites your bottom lip, “had to call you my wife before i could call you mine — thought about you dating Suguru, about all the times I wanted to lean over during our movie nights as kids and just kiss you — and how much I regretted it,”
“So you admit you’ve been pining for me,” you gasp as his teeth drag against your neck now, biting and sucking, as your fingers thread through his white locks, “Satoru,” you moan, biting your lip.
“Judging by that moan, I’m not the only one,” he smiles cheekily, his hands sliding down your back to rest at the back of your thighs, large palms and thick fingers pressing through the all too thin tulle of your dress, “can’t wait to see how fuckin’ wet you are for me, Princess.”
You gasp at his vulgar words, a rush of heat that leaves your legs shaking under his touch, “Now whose mind is the gutter?” You tease, your fingers tugging at his tie, unfurling the knot.
“Always has been when it’s come to you, want to make this perfect princess filthy,” he coos, and he’s pulling you up against the door, your hands wrapped around his neck, “wanna make my beautiful little wife scream my name, don’t I?”
“Toru—“ you gasp as his teeth graze along your chest, tugging the neckline of your dress impossibly low, “you’re going to rip it—“ and he does, pulling the fabric apart with ease, “what the fu—“ and he’s swallowing your swears with his tongue.
“I’ll buy you another,” he grins, “in fact I’ll buy you any amount you want, as long as you keep letting me do this,”
And he’s peeling the dress off of you, dress falling to the floor in a shamble of tulle, and your skin flushes at the air hitting your bare skin, and shivers at the feeling of his sharp breath against your neck.
“How are you so fucking perfect?” he sighs, burying his face in the nape of your neck, pressing butterfly kisses down your collarbone, “I should get an award for patience — not being able to touch you, to kiss you, but living with you?”
His fingers are skimming down your underwear now, snapping the waistband against your skin, you gasp, “Fuck, Toru,” you whimper, “thought you’d talk less during this,” your fingers are undoing his shirt now.
“Oh I can think of a few things that could shut me up,” his lips curl deviously, and you’re slipping his shirt off his shoulders, your lips pressing to his collarbone.
“I don’t think you’d even shut up from that,” as he shivers when your teeth graze his soft skin, “I think you’ll only whine more,”
And his gaze is hot as his eyes meet yours again, as he grasps at your thighs and picks you up, “let’s see who’s the one whining at the end of this,” you squeal, grasping into his shoulders, as he carries you into his bedroom, as he settles you down on his bed. His eyes raking over you, panting and disheveled, he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, “can’t believe you’re all mine, Princess,”
“Satoru,” you’re reaching for him, but he pins your hand to the bed, “wha—“
“Patience, baby,” he purrs, as he presses his lips to your wrist, “let me enjoy you,”
He’s so pretty it’s unfair - the way his breath hits your skin steals yours, pretty pink lips parted as he runs his tongue over them, the same ache between your legs longing for that tongue between them. But it leaves you with so little of the patience he asks you to have — especially after over a decade of this in the making.
And your impatience is evident, you suppose, by the pout on your lips, and he laughs, “Want a kiss, baby?”
You don’t have the time to say you want much more than a kiss, as he humors you with a kiss, lips teasing you with their sweet taste, and you don’t fail to notice his smile as you lean up into his touch. And suddenly his hands brush down your bare sides, squeezing your hips, and you’re gasping, “Feel good, Princess? We’ve barely started—“
“You keep teasing me and I’ll make you regret it,” you grumble, between breathless kisses, the bite of your words dampened by the soft pants that leave your lips, “Toru, I swear—“
And his thumb presses against the wet patch on your underwear, flimsy layer of soaked fabric barely doing a thing to hide your arousal, “Not acting like a good little girl for me,” he tuts, as you keen against his touch, gasping as you throw your head back as he grinds his fingers against your puffy clit, “all it took was one touch to have you so pliant, huh? Should’ve done this a long time ago,”
“Stop,” you whine, and his grin only grows larger with such self satisfaction, you don’t know if your lust addled brain wants you to strangle his neck or his cock, “please, just—“
“Just what?” And his fingers are breaching past your underwear, just barely touching the outer lips of your cunt, “come on, Princess, use your big girl words, or are you already fucked stupid before I’ve barely touched you?”
“Motherfuck—“
“I will be one once I get my needy little wife pregnant, won’t I?” And his long fingers finally tug down your underwear — the wet schlick of the sticky fabric hitting the floor make him drag his teeth over those beautiful lips, “but we got plenty of time for that, after all,” his fingers tease the outer lips of your throbbing pussy, “practice makes perfect,”
And he sinks a long finger knuckle deep — and a whine crawls its way out of your throat, his fingers were thicker than yours were — and so much better. His thumb teases your clit in tight circles as he begins to tease your walls, reaching deep, deep, deeper, your slick starting to drip onto his palm, “God, you’re soaking me, Princess,” and your hips can’t resist the urge to grind against his touch, “oh, and where’s that mouth now?” you can barely see much less talk, words failing as he begins to stretch you out - his other large palm rested against your thigh, keeping your legs nice and spread for him.
He’s grinning, he sinks another finger into you, teasing your walls apart, beginning to finger fuck you in earnest, “my mouthy girl just needed to be fucked right? Didn’t she?” And all you can hear are the filthy sounds of your cunt, as his fingers piston in and out, “nothing to say, Princess?” And he spanks your pussy, making you yelp, a whine leaving your throat, “and you thought I’d be whiny, look at you now, baby,” his fingers cup your chin to force your glassy eyes to meet his darkened blues, “such a good fucked out wife for me,”
And a third finger joining right as he brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars as his thumb bullied your clit, eyes rolling back as he did, and he’s grinning, “my perfect princess and her perfect little pussy,”
You came with his name on your lips, panting and shaking as he held you steady, his fingers dripping with your release, as he pulled away, watching your cunt twitch around nothing, aching for his fingers.
You're coming down from your high, chest rising and falling, as you watch him gather your release on his fingers, toying with your cunt, before he sucks them clean, “Fuck,” you whimper, as he licks and cleans himself of your cum, “Toru-“
“Fuck, baby, how’ve I resisted tasting you for so long?” And he’s bending down as he noses your thighs, making your hips jolt, still sensitive from your orgasm as he deeply inhaled, tip of his tongue darting out to lick your release from your thighs, “smell as sweet as you taste,” he hums, your legs trying to close, but his palms keep them spread, “can’t keep a man from his vices, can we baby?”
And his tongue teases your cum that pooled from your orgasm, the tip hot and wet as it tastes it, “tastes when better coming from this filthy princess cunt,” he grins against your thigh, teeth grazing your skin, making you lurch.
“T-Toru, please,” fuck you hated how needy you sounded, but you needed more — but he’s leaning away, pressing his cheek against the soft plush of your thigh.
“Need you to do something me first, sweetheart,” and his fingers are drawing teasing infinities on your thighs, “tell me how much you want me,”
“Fuck you,” you groan, “I know what you’re gonna say,” you add, cutting off his snappy retort of “I’m trying to,” “I want you, Satoru, please, I’ve wanted this for too long,” and your voice grows more teasing, “how long is my husband going to keep me waiting?”
And his eyes darken, the slight flush on his cheeks growing deeper, as his mouth presses a wet kiss to your sopping pussy, “good girl, think you deserve a reward,” and he’s manhandling your thighs, spreading them wide, as he buries his face in your cunt, “such a good little wife deserves to be eaten out,”
And eating is exactly what he does - you had only seen Satoru eat sweets with the same voracity he devoured you, pressing his thick fingers into your thighs as he splayed you out as his mouth pressed wet kisses to your dripping lips. His hot tongue drags up the length of your cunt, “best fucking thing I’ll ever taste, know what my last meal will be,” he’s murmuring against you, making you twitch, as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes and saliva and slick covered lips, “awww my pretty pussy begging to be filled? Well I can do that for you, baby,” and he’s burying his tongue in your messy hole.
The moan that leaves your lips leaves his cock harder and hurting, he didn’t know you could make such a lewd noise, and he couldn’t wait to make you make it again and again. He’s making out with your pussy at this mouth, your hips doing their best to grind against him, desperate for more, more, more.
And your fingers find his shoulders first, before sliding up to his hair, pressing him further against you, “you’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs, as he spreads your folds with his thumbs before tongue fucking you. His tongue teases and abuses your walls, deeper and deeper, before he pulls back to flick his tongue over your clit, making you moan even louder, “neighbors are gonna hear you at this rate, baby,” but he only sucks at your clit, harshly, “oh well, they know we’re newlyweds,” he’s humming as his ears hear your broken whines and pants, body tensed up against his.
And you’re so wet now, your slick drips down his jaw, mixed with his spit, “you’re all mine now, baby, can’t live without tasting you now—“ and he groans when your hips buck into his mouth again, feeling your walls twitch, “I know you’re close, Princess, tell me how good it feels,”
“S’good, Toru, I can’t—“ you’re pulling at his soft white locks now, making him grunt, and you fall apart, back arching as you cum as all you can hear are the squelching sounds of his tongue and mouth as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm.
And you’re twitching under him as he sucks up every bit of your cum, “so fucking good for me,” he’s finally pulling himself from your messy pussy, “can’t wait to feel you around me, should’ve known you have a little princess cunt,”
And he’s licking his lips and chin clean, as you watch him with half lidded eyes, still panting, as your eyes skim down his body, his jacket had been thrown aside at some point, but his now wrinkled shirt is only messily untucked from his dress pants, and disheveled was too good of a look on him, but you rather see those clothes on the floor of your bedroom, “you’re still annoyingly dressed,” you manage between breaths, still aching from his ministrations, “strip,”
He’s raising an eyebrow, a wicked grin on his lips, “So demanding for someone who was moaning my name a second ago,” but you pull yourself up, supporting yourself on a shaky arm while you use the other to tug on his tie, smashing his lips to yours.
You unfurl the very tie you tied, fingers flying to unbutton his shirt, “Made me feel so good, baby,” and now you were kneeling in front of him, your release slipping down your thighs, as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside, heated eyes raking over his bare chest, tongue running over your lips, “only fair if I repay the favor,”
You’re undoing his belt for him, pulling it free from the loops, as your hand grazes his noticeable bulge in his suit pants, “surprised you haven’t ripped through,” you squeeze lightly, making his hips jerk, as he pouts all too cutely — and now you knew why he always teased you, “didn’t you tell me to have patience, love?”
“Your husband is running low on that at the moment, never been one to be patient, sweetheart,” he’s gritting his teeth, as you slip his pants off leaving him only in boxers.
Your eyes are glued to his erection, visible through the damp front of his boxers, wet with his precum, “so fuckin’ big, even better than I thought,” you say almost with reverence, and his lip quivers at the praise, a quiet groan leaving his throat. You raise an eyebrow, “like to be praised, baby boy?”
And he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, sweat on his forehead from his treatment of you, but a red flush deepens on his skin, “Princess,” it’s half a warning and half a plea—and morphs into a whimper as your fingers tease the head of his cock through his boxers, rubbing his precum into the fabric, “f-fuck, s’good with those hands, sweetheart,”
“Imagine how much better it’d be with your boxers out of the way,” you say leaning down and licking at the tip through the sticky fabric, as his head falls back with a soft moan, “can’t wait to feel this between my legs,” as you kiss the clothed tip, two fingers slipping in only to snap the waistband of the boxers against his skin, and he’s biting back a moan, a pout on his kiss ruined lips, “god, you’re so pretty,”
Another noise in the back of his throat, “Fuck, Princess,” he hissed, as you finally spare him, pulling his boxers off, his erection slapping against his too fucking incredible abs — how was he so unfairly perfect? He was so gorgeous — more long than girthy, but he was so thick still, and flushed red with pearly pre-cum at the tip. Each vein and curve felt as if he was made for you.
“All this for me, baby?” You tease, as his mouth opens and then closes as your fingers tease the head of his cock, a sharp inhale that keeps echoing in your ears, “all turned on from eating me out, huh?” You move close, nearly straddling him, but you don’t let your cunt brush against his cock — not yet.
And his dick twitches in your hand, “Sweetheart,” he whimpers, eyes nearly glassy with need, “such a fucking tease,”
And your lips curl, “Match made in heaven, baby,” you rub your thumb against his flushed tip, spreading the pre-cum along his shaft, “can’t wait to taste you, wonder if you taste as sweet as what you eat,” licking your lips, and he’s biting his lip, “tell me what you want, Toru,”
“Y’know what I want, Princess,” he’s panting as you lean forward to kiss him, lips sliding against his, just as your palm starts to stroke him, his moan is nearly pornographic, words spilling from his mouth, “want your pretty pussy around my cock, sweetheart, plesse,”
“Not so fast, baby,” you hum, your other hand moving to tease his balls, achingly full, judging by the gasp that left his throat, “wanna take my time with you, like you did with me, right?” And he breaks your kiss with a whine, “you feel so good in my hands, Toru, been thinking about this cock for too long,” and he’s grunting, lips parted as he pants, burying his face in your shoulder.
“How good?” he mumbles, and you’re grinning even wider — the great Satoru Gojo fell to pieces with only your touch and some praise, his face beautifully flushed as you tug him by the back of his hair, thumb running over his undercut as you do.
“So good that I wanna make you fall apart over and over until my name is the only thing on your lips,” you squeeze the base of his dick, making his hips jump, “gonna be a good boy for me and let me do it?”
And he’s nodding, utterly fucked out even before you’ve even started. And you guide him to the end of the bed, as you get on your knees for him, his gaze darkening as he watches you lean down to press your lips to the tip of his weeping erection, making him groan your name. And you trace his slit with the tip of your tongue, tasting his salty release, “How long you gonna tease me baby? I’m being so good for you,” he’s whining, his baby blues fluttering with lust as he looks down at you, choking as he sees how his precum paints your lips, “please, fuck, just—“
And you finally guide his cock into your mouth, and he’s jerking at the sensation and groaning as he watches your pretty little mouth take his length — those same smart lips that always had a reply for everything, the ones he’d jerked off to the thought of this very situation — you on your knees for him, the ones he’d wanted around him for so long — it was too much.
He almost blew his load all too fast, your warm mouth all too accommodating to his cock, as your wet walls and tongue swirl around him, tasting and sucking, your fingers grasping his thighs. And you bob up and down his length, the weight of his cock making the ache between your legs worse, and your eyes flicker up, and moan as you watch him.
He’s so fucking gorgeous — panting and so fucked out, as his lips part for you, your name leaving his kissed red lips, teeth baring down on his bottom lip, “Fuck, my little wife is so pretty on her knees,” as his hands settle on your head, watching you sink your mouth down on his cock, pleasure running up his spine, as his thick fingers dig into your scalp, “so nasty, baby, fuuuuck, gonna fuck your throat at this rate,” he groans, “how’d you get so good at this baby? Don’t answer that,” he adds, a growl in his words, and you almost giggle around his dick.
“Learned so I could blow you, husband, after all, this mouth is yours,” you grin, and his lips curl too and then they part as he grunts, as you press teasing kisses along his length before sliding it back into your mouth, beginning to let the tip hit the back of your throat. You gag on him, making him moan, as he helps you deepthroat him, his hips thrusting against you lightly, his white pubes brushing against your face.
And he’s moaning even louder, as he watches you, drool slipping down your chin as he fucks your mouth, tongue massaging him as he did, “Made just to fuck me, huh? Want my load that bad, Princess?” And his words have your eyes rolling back as he’s moving against you, his cock twitching telling you that he’s close, “shiiit, fuck, my wife’s a slut for me, gonna swallow my cum baby?”
“Only for you,” you pull away a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to his dick, smiling, before you slip him back into your too eager mouth, and you hollow your cheeks, the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth sending him over the edge.
“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, baby, can I cum in—“ and you make his tip brush your throat again as you suck, looking at him with half lidded, dilated eyes. And he spills into your mouth, hot cum down your throat, as he holds your head gently in place, “shit Princess,” his hips jumping at the sight of you, cum and spit slipping from the corner of your mouth as you pull his cock from you, “s’good for me,”
He’s still panting, as you climb into his lap properly, his cock sliding against your cunt, making his face twist in pleasure, as you lick your mouth clean of him, wiping your chin, “Taste so good, Toru,” you hum, his eyes half lidded with pleasure, chest still heaving, as he leans back on shaky arms, “you may be my favorite meal, but I think I rather,” you grind on his lap teasingly dragging his tip against your messy cunt, “have you cum inside me,”
And he gives a delicious gasp, “baby, too sensitive,” but you’re tilting his chin back as you meet his lips, both of you moaning as you taste yourselves on the other’s lips, “you’re gonna be the death of me, Princess,” he’s chuckling, as he starts to grab your thighs, putting you properly into his lap, “you gonna ride me like a good little princess? Fuck yourself on my cock?”
How does he have the upper hand when you’re the one on top?
As you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, and he’s sliding your body back and forth, his cock slapping and sliding against your wrecked cunt, so close to sinking in. His hand bears down on your ass, slapping it, before his fingers squeeze it, making you jump against him, your chest brushing against his, “you like that huh?” he’s grinning, as he kisses you again, his lips sliding against you, swallowing your moans eagerly, “what do you want, baby? Remember to say please,” he adds, and you want to roll your eyes, but his fingers rub your clit, and any protest you had fled your mind.
“Please,” and you’re using your fingers to part yourself above him, making his eyes roll back, as you grasp his cock, teasing your dripping cunt with the head of his dick, “fuck me,”
And you sink onto him, inch by inch, as your head looks back, your walls squeezing as he parted your folds, “You’re drenching me, sweetheart, fucking perfect princess cunt is gonna wring me dry,” he grunts, as his fingers splay over your hips, grasping but not pushing, letting you go at your pace, “s’good, might just have to fill you up, again and again,” and your pussy twitches at that thought drawing a laugh from him lips, “you want that? My wife wants to be full of my cum,” he’s groaning when you finally fit all of his cock in you, cunt clamping down on him, “trying to break my cock? Don’t have to go that far to keep me, I’m living in this sweet cunt from now on,”
You’re a mess — whining and moaning, your chest bouncing as you begin to move against him, “Toru, so full, s’good,” his own hips jumping against yours, a low growl in his throat, as his hands begin to guide your hips, snapping his own hips as he fucks you onto his own cock, reaching new depths, as your eyes squeeze shut, “fuckfuckfuuuck, Toru,” you’re babbling and moaning his name, again and again — and he just needs more.
And he’s spanking you, hands coming down on your ass, as he grunts, your warm walls twitching and squeezing him, brushing against sweet spots that have both of you groaning, “such a fucking good girl, taking my cock — I know you can take more, baby, my perfect wife,” and he’s capturing your nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing it before he sucks, his hips growing even faster, until his cock finds your special spot.
“Toru, g’nna cum, I—“ And your orgasm hits you, head thrown back as your lips part in a silent scream, toes curling as you wrap your legs around his waist, and he’s fucking you right through — fucking relentless, almost limitless, with his pace, groaning as he watches his the base of his cock covered in your release, a pool of white that almost has him cumming then and there.
“S’ fuckinh pretty, Princess, and all mine,” he says, as you moan, as he slows his pace, your face buried in his shoulder, as you come down from your high, and he’s tilting your head.
But he isn’t done yet.
In a moment, he’s pulling his cock out — a whine parting your mouth — as he manhandles you so that you’re flat on your back, your ankles thrown over his shoulders, and spread wide for him. You’re the picture of filth — lips in a kiss ruined pout, chest rising and falling as you gaze up at him with needy eyes, and your perfect cunt leaking and drenched for him — he could see everything — all of you, the way your cum slid down your hole, the way it clenched around nothing, the pretty pink insides he was desperate to make his.
He licks his lips, “soaking my lap and sheets with your cum, baby, such a dirty girl,” and he’s spreading your lips, letting your release trickle out.
“Satoru,” you whine as he runs a finger over your still twitching pussy, as if begging for his cock back, “please, too sensitive,”
“Please what, sweetheart? Because your cunt seems to disagree,” his chuckle is a deep noise that reverberates through his chest as he leans down to press your lips to yours in a languid kiss, “such a nerdy princess, imagine how’d your family would feel — seeing you beg for my cock, huh? Not the chaste little princess anymore? Nah, you’re my filthy baby,” and you’re whimpering, “tell me baby, I know you’re not nearly fucked dumb yet, you’re too smart for that,” he coos, a grin on his lips as he stares with that damn crystalline gaze.
And finally he’s sinking into you again, cock sliding back into your soaked cunt, “God, I love you,” he murmurs, as he’s somehow deeper inside you, pussy pressed against all of him, “so fucking perfect, baby, better than I imagined,” he’s pussydrunk now as he rails into you, and you’re grasping at him, the only sound in your ears is the squelch of him as he filled you again and again as his chest presses against yours, fucking you long and hard, “you’re all mine now, baby. My wife, my body, my love, my soul — all of it,” he growls his last words, grunting as his hips begin to stutter as he kisses your sweet spot again and again, ��you want me to cum in this sweet princess pussy, baby? Wanna make me a daddy?”
Your cunt twitches at that, and he laughs, “did you just get wetter, baby? Didn’t think you could do that,”
But you’re only moaning, you’re so fuckin’ close but you want him to cum with you - wanna feel him sink into as he does. And so you’re meeting his lips in a searing kiss, his hips thrusting harder and longer, “give me your baby, Toru, breed me,” you whisper, words slurring as you pant and stutter, all sense had left your mind - and all you wanted was him.
“Fuck, Princess,” he’s grunting as he pistons in and out of you, bed groaning under his thrusts, until your walls clamp down again and again on him as you cum, throbbing and needy as you moan his name, back arching, “g’nna cum,”
And he does, his cock hitting the deepest part of you as he does, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips continue to fuck it deeper into you, making you whimper, as he just keeps on cumming ropes, “oh, f-fuck, Princess,” he rasps as he kisses you, sloppy and wet, as he pants, watching your face come down him your high, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him, “so beautiful,” he murmurs, as he rubs his thumb down your lips.
He pulls out slowly, groaning as he watches your mixed releases leak out of you, dragging the tip of his weeping erection down your cunt, a whine leaving your throat again, “So fucking filthy, baby,” he hums, a shiteating grin on his lips, as he collects his cum on his fingers, and pushes it back inside of you, as you jump, a small pout on your lips making him laugh, “gotta make good on my promise, baby,” and he’s kissing you silly again, “gotta get you pregnant and full for me,”
His body is sticky with sweat, as he eases your aching legs down, as he kisses up your body, nosing your neck, “So perfect for me, Princess, I love you,” he says so earnestly that it makes you melt, as you pull him into a kiss, “suppose we consummated our marriage now, does this mean we get to have a honeymoon now?” he’s grinning, as you roll your eyes, “come on, don’t you want to travel?”
And you laugh, “I don’t think we would even leave the hotel room if you had your way,” and he’s pressing his thumb against your bottom lip and dragging down, before kissing you, sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you.
“Would that be such a bad thing?” And your breath catches a moment, before you sigh, and he grins again, “so?”
You roll over to grab your phone, kissing his lips, pulling up possible destinations, “where are we going?”
“Satoru, we’re at the office, uhmph—“ Satoru’s kissing you even before the elevator doors shut, and you can’t help but not care if anyone saw either of you making out, his talented tongue stealing your logic from under you, before he’s pulling away, your lipstick nearly smeared all over his face. You bite back a laugh, before using your thumb to wipe away the evidence of your kiss, “we’ve been here less than a minute, and you’re already making a mess,”
And his lips catch your thumb between them, kissing it sweetly, “What do I do better than make a mess of you, princess?” and he’s pressing sweet kisses to your fingertips, before you’re pulling him back for another kiss, right before you hear the elevator ding, and you scramble apart.
Your cheeks flushed, as you stepped onto the floor of the newly merged company that was formerly your families’ individual companies, now united as one — just as you and Satoru were now — which was why he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. The two of you had come into the office to finalize the transition for your staff, each of you dealing with formalities on either side, but Satoru did little to help your focus on the process with his blatant stares and sneaky touches.
Twice already he had pulled you into his office, only to have you either pressed against his door, or bent over his desk. And god, you sat in your office, biting your lip as you thought about paying him another visit — and fuck, this is what he wanted.
You pull your phone out and text him: You suck.
And his reply is instant. If I recall from last night, you’re the one who sucks ;)
You’ve left me high and dry, Satoru, and I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking you in the office. Especially with both of our parents around in meetings all day.
He replies, Nah, that’s exactly why you should be thinking about it.
And then another text.
Imagine our parents walking in while you’re under my desk doing what you do best, you’d be quiet for me, Princess? Wouldn’t let us get caught when I fuck your pretty mouth?
You’re biting your lip — Fucker, I hate you.
Nah, you love me, a little too much, Princess. Another text — especially the way you were moaning my name last night.
And there’s a knock at your door in that moment — “Come in,” you intone, and you were ninety-nine percent sure that was Satoru — ready to make good on his promise — and then white hair visible as the door swings open, “Father,”
It was a Gojo, but not the one you expected — your father in law, instead of his son.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, lips curling in a smile that was all too the same as his son — but missing the same charm, the distinct softness that made you adore Satoru was not present in his father — nor was his father very present at all — except to chastise his son on how he thought his son should live his life.
And he was interrupting — interrupting you about to sext his son and your husband from the confines of your office, but you only offered a smile, “Not at all, can I help you with something, Father?”
He’s shutting the door behind him, before taking a seat across from you, “I just wanted to have a chat with you — it’s been so long since we’ve been able to see the two of you — we still haven’t had you over since you’ve returned from your honeymoon,”
“It’s been very busy,” and it had been, but not too busy to see Satoru’s family. Since the launch party, you and Satoru had agreed to steer clear of his father for some time, until Satoru could develop some more healthy boundaries with him. And so you could get through a conversation without strangling him (although Satoru wasn’t opposed to seeing that), “with the merger and Satoru and I trying to spend time to get know each other again,”
“Of course,” but his smile told you he was unconvinced, “I wanted to talk to you about something important, I’ve seen how close you and Satoru have gotten since the engagement and the wedding, and I was happy to see you pushing him in the right direction,”
“”Pushing him?’” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.
“With the merger, I haven’t seen him so focused, so determined, and I knew my suggestion to my wife to have you marry him was the right choice,” and you stare at him, mouth agape, as anger slowly melts from your stomach into every vein of his body, fingers curling into fists.
“Excuse me?”
He leans back in his chair, “When the idea of the merger was floated by me, I knew I wanted a condition to be your marriage to Satoru,” his eyes glance over the things on your desk — the stacked folders, the paperwork, and the pictures of your family and of Satoru, “you’re driven, you’re focused, you’re perfect — I knew you could change him, and I was right,” his lips curl, and you can’t hold your tongue anymore.
“Maybe what your son needed was someone to support him,” your words are even, but your body is tense, “he needed someone not to scold him, to put him down, to whisper doubts in his ear when he needed help,” you rise from your chair slowly, “I respect you as my father-in-law and as my family’s old friend and co-owner of this company, but,” you glare at him, “no one insults my husband’s capabilities, and makes me takes credit for his achievements,”
The old man’s teeth grit, and he opens to respond, when there’s a curt knock at the door, and Satoru enters, “Old man, how about you go chat with the other old farts in the room? Pretty sure you’re bleeding investors by the second the longer you talk with my wife,” he slides a small smile to you that tells you he heard everything.
Satoru’s father shoots a glare at both of you, before leaving the room in a huff, door shutting behind him, and you sigh, rubbing your temples, “I’m sorry if I made things worse—”
And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you against him, “Thank you, Princess,” he murmurs into your ear, making you tense, “oh you like that, huh?” and you roll your eyes, laughing.
“Even in a moment like this, huh?” you lean up and whisper in his ear, “I don’t just like it, I love it,” and it’s his turn to shiver, his cheeks burning, “you’re so cute,” you grin, before leaning up and kissing him. He melts into the kiss, his fingers cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss, pulling your waist against his, and you feel his arousal pressed against your thigh.
You pull away, tilting your head, you snort, “Already?”
And he bites his lip, “Take some responsibility, baby, it’s your fault,” and he leans down and grazes your ear with his teeth, “not my fault my hot wife defended my honor and then decided to whisper sweet nothings in my ear,”
You hum, guiding his lips to yours, your teeth graze over his bottom lip, “And how should I take responsibility, baby?” and he shudders, crystalline eyes glazed over with lust, “we’re in the office, not very professional,” his fingers unbutton your blouse, so he can lean down and kiss your collarbone.
“I was never very professional to begin with,” he smirks, his teeth grazing over the soft skin, sucking and biting, making you gasp, “don’t be so loud, someone will hear us, what will they think?” he murmurs, with a grin against your skin, as he continues to undo your blouse, as he turns you around so your back is against your chest, he tilts your head to look at your door, “look it’s unlocked, anyone could walk in,” and his fingers sneak down the front of your skirt, fingers teasing your panties, “fuuuck, princess, you’re soaked through — are you more turned on by the idea of getting caught?” and you whimper, only making him grin wickedly against your neck, “my filthy girl, imagine your father walking in, seeing your husband’s fingers down your skirt, legs spread wide like a slut,”
“Satoru,” you’re biting your lip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised it would bleed, your knees buckling, as his fingers part your dripping folds, “we can’t—”
“We can,” he shushes you, guiding your lips to his, fingers cupping your throat, but he leans back to get confirmation that you were okay, and you lean in again to kiss him, “such a good girl,” You whimper, and he laughs, “gotta break in the new office don’t we?”
And his fingers slip your panties aside, two fingers parting your folds, and you gasp, as he stuffs two fingers into your mouth as well, “Not so loud, Princess, can’t give the office gossip mill something really juicy, now can we?” And his digits start to really fuck you, in and out, the wet squelch ringing in your ears, as his fingers bully and stretch your walls, until they find what they are looking for — your g-spot.
You fall apart, but it’s gushing all over his hand, soaking his hand, as your hand grasps at the fingers in his mouth trying to stifle your noises, “Fuck, Princess, did you just squirt for me?” He’s grinning, “such a sloppy little Princess, look you’re staining the carpet with your cum,” he guides your head to look, seeing the spot on the carpet, as you lean against him, “gotta do this again,”
He kisses you as you moan. Tangled limbs and eager touches, as you guide him over to the desk, as you settle him into the chair, lips still parting as your tongue slips in, “Your turn,” and before he can even react, you’re slipping down to your knees, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, slipping his aching dick out, nearly slapping your face with it, you drag it along your lips, “Like you said, I’m the one who sucks right?” you wink, before you finally lick the length of his cock, tracing the veins to the slit, “you always taste so good, Toru,” and he’s hissing now.
“Fuck, baby, you always so pretty on your knees for me,” and you have to disagree — he’s the one who looks pretty — shirt disheveled, chest rising and falling far too fast, as he looked down at you with his snowy white eyelashes half lidded with a lust ridden gaze — “your pretty mouth is s’fucking perfect, can’t wait to cum down that lovely throat,” he hisses, as his fingers dig into your scalp, urging his cock deeper, his tip brushing against your throat, making you gag.
He opens his mouth to apologize, but you only shake your head, as you do it again, making his hips buck against you, tip hitting your throat again, his composure quickly falling to shreds, as he’s fucking your throat now, biting his lip so hard to keep his groans in, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding afterwards.
“I-I’m close,” he’s gritting his teeth, but you only redouble your efforts, “so fuckin’ perfect, made to suck this dick—”
And that’s when there’s a knock on the door, making you both freeze. You panic silently — before Satoru is shepherding you under your desk, while he adjusts himself, scooting your chair in more, so his weeping cock is hidden along with you.
“Come in,” Satoru says, as even toned as someone who was just fucking their wife’s throat can manage, “Dad—what a nice surprise,”
And you cover your mouth — fuck it was your dad — Satoru called his dad, “old man” — what the fuck.
“I should be saying that to you son,” you bite your lip, listening to their conversation, “where’s my daughter? And why are you in her office?” and you covered your mouth, shit — you were hiding under your own desk, while Satoru sat in your chair.
Shit, shit, shit.
“I was just waiting for her to come back with lunch,” he manages, and you can almost see the dependable smile on his lips, “she volunteered to get us lunch and she told me to wait here so we could eat together,”
Your father was seemingly convinced after that, but to both of your dismay, sat down to speak with Satoru about business matters. You crouched, utterly bored as you listened to them talk, his erection beginning to wane, and you got an idea in your pretty little head — you grinned — well, Satoru should be careful what he wishes for, or he might just get you blowing him in front of your father.
You start slow — teasing the head with a brush of your fingers, easily could have been an accident, but it nearly makes him jump, as he gives a warning nudge with his foot gently. But then your hand begins to rub him in earnest, fingers using your spit as lube, as you heard your husband stammer over his words to your father. But it was nothing compared to when you closed your mouth over his cock, and began to deepthroat him again.
“Satoru, are you okay?’ you hear your father ask, as you discreetly suck your husband’s cock under his desk, and you can only imagine the delightful shade of red your Toru is turning.
“Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself,” he mumbles, as he grits his teeth in an attempt not to moan, and you can feel his thighs tense as he forces himself not to fuck your mouth as he wants to right now. He’s so close — as much as you like the idea of getting caught, you think Satoru likes it as much or maybe even more — his cock is twitching in your mouth as you suck and swirl your tongue around it, as your fingers dig into your thighs, “I apologize, I’m getting a call. Could you excuse me?”
And your father is oblivious, and excuses himself from the room, door shutting behind him, and Satoru groans, “Fuck, princess, you almost made me cum in front of your dad in this nasty fucking mouth,” and you suck harder, fingers fondling his balls, as his fingers find your locks again, and his hips jerk into your mouth, his white pubes tickling your nose, “thaaat’s it, fuck, so fuckin’ good, i’m close, sweetheart,” he groans, “you want me to cum—“ and you bury his cock deeper into your mouth as an answer, your hands pumping what you couldn’t fit, until he cums down your throat.
You meet his half lidded gaze, swallowing his cum, as you ease off his cock, a mix of cum and saliva connected your lips, “You taste so good,” you lick your lips, as you push the chair a little back and climb out, as you tug his boxers and pants back up, tucking his cock back in, “my favorite treat,”
He smiles, chest still rising and falling fast, “I love you, princess,” so genuinely as he pulls you into a deep kiss.
You giggle, humming against his lips, “So heartfelt after getting your soul sucked out of your dick,” you glance at the door, “do you think anyone heard us?”
He shrugs, as he pulls you into his lap, “I hope they did,” he grins against your neck, as you roll your eyes.
“You’re terrible,” and his lips curl.
“And you love me,” you kiss those same lips you would each day.
“I do.”
~~~~
“What do you wanna do today?” Satoru asks, your legs thrown over his lap, as you read a book you had picked up the other day out on a date with him, and he eats the kikufuku he had insisted on picking up the same day.
“Hmm, I have some ideas,” you hum, hiding your smile with a book, and you don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning.
“And what’s that, Princess?” he leans forward, plucking the book from your fingers, as you tut at his sugar covered fingers, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your husband?” And his lips brush against your neck, nose brushing against the soft skin of your nape, inhaling your scent.
“Well I have a surprise for you,” you weren’t planning on giving it to him now, but you pulled a wrapped box from behind the couch cushions, “should I make you wait?”
He’s reaching for the box already, as you laugh, and he’s snatching it from your fingers before you can tease him, “can I open it?” He was so eager, as always.
“Go ahead, baby,” you bite your lip, a small smile on your lips.
He lifts the lid of the wrapped box off, and the first thing his eyes flit across is the word “positive.”
His mouth parts, as he stares at the pregnancy test carefully nestled into the box, “is this—“ his cerulean eyes meet yours, a soft gaze with wonder, “are we—“
“We’re having a baby, Toru,” you nod, and he’s sweeping you into his arms, as you squeak, his body sweeping you up in his, as he buries his face in your neck, “Toru—“
“Is this real?” He murmurs, into your skin, all soft words and soft kisses, “I feel like I’m dreaming,”
“Well I am your dream girl, so maybe don’t be surprised when I pinch you and you wake up,” you pinch his cheek lightly, making his pale skin cutely flushed, pink dusting his cheeks, “no dream here, all real — so I guess you’re just lucky,”
“The luckiest,” he hums, a quiet noise that soothes you, “a beautiful wife, and now,” his fingers graze over your stomach, before lifting the hem of your shirt, to press his lips to it, “and now we’re going to be a family,”
Your lips curl, tilting his chin up so his watery gaze meets your own, thumb rubbing the length of his cheek, “We already were a family,
He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, “I thought we were mortal enemies,” and you laugh, before shrugging.
“That too,” and he pulls you into his lap, smiling, “but you’re actually pretty cute,”
He gasps mockingly, “Princess, do you have a crush on me? A mere commoner?”
You roll your eyes, pressing a languid kiss to his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of the kikufuku, “I hate you,” you say, when he knows you mean quite the opposite.
And he only smiles the same way he always did — and the same way he always would — “love you too, Princess."
✩ a/n: so this was also inspired by a character AI made by @/fairybaby that has been living in my mind rent free for far too long. thank you to @/laneymusings for being the best emotional support from writing to formatting to everything in between
✩ tag list: @ryliobrow, @getosho3cakes, @delaneyyyy, @soukokufan, @purplscnerie, @solarlunarsstuff, @growingupnrealizing, @forest-fruits-jam, @achipstea1ingseagull, @fruitscall, @starplasma-cujoh, @crashing-a-jeep, @mwah-chia, @vorschlaghannah, @xrysakts, @emonaculate
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bee 7
desc: best friends>lovers, azriel au (fem reader)
warnings: 18+, fluff, SMUT!!, fingering, raw dogg, oral, light bondage, blindfold, overstim, reader being a lil insecure, teeny tiny foot fetish (cmon we all know az is a freak freak), lil adolescent fluff , drug addiction, (was rereading and feel like i should add kat insinuating someone's on drugs bc they are skinny i know this isn't accurate she's just being a bitch to jab at az basically saying anyone else besides bee that az would be with would be a custy lol)
other parts can be found on my masterlist under azriel
wc: 7.9k
seven
Kat and Mor had both insisted this time, that I get ready at Kats house for my date with Azriel. Date. I had been going out of my mind with nerves since he asked me, rushing around to every store yesterday looking for the right thing to wear.
He hadn't changed his mind, which I had been afraid of... No, he had actually told me lastnight that he couldn't wait, he had said that just before I went over to Kats for the slumber party she had planned for the three of us since Mor was staying at her house. I had been a blushing mess when he stared me down in my pajamas in the hall before I left.
I still felt like I was in a dream... After wanting Az for so long I was just waiting for him to change his mind or something, it didn't feel real. "I think I might pass away," I muttered quietly as I stared back at my reflection in the mirror, yesterday, the long silky white dress had felt like a good idea, tonight... Not so much.
"You're going to be fine," Mor promised as she did some final touches on my hair, she looked drop dead gorgeous, I felt just plain and stupid next to her. It reminded me again that Azriel had too many options, why would he want me?
"You couldn't be more prepped you have nothing to be nervous about," Kat giggles softly, glancing over at us, she was still working on her makeup, clad in a skimpy black dress similar to Mors dark purple one. My cheeks reddened again, they had forced me to go get waxed bright and early, insisting that it was the best way to get ready for Azriel if I wanted to seal the deal and make him completely fall in love. I had questioned many of my decisions while I whimpered in pain when the woman at the spa had been ripping my pubes out.
The two of them together were a force to be reckoned with, because the wax was followed by a pedicure and a manicure and then a blowout from the hair salon across the street. I was already exhausted and the night hadn't even began. I had been telling them all day, that all of this was unnecessary that Az and I had known eachother for so long I didn't need to do all of this extra stuff to impress him. He already knew me. They insisted that this wasn't just for Azriel, it was for me, to help boost my confidence. I had tried to not take it as an insult, did I really come off as that insecure?
"I just- I don't know, I've been waiting for this for so long... And now I feel like I might just throw up," I breathed out pressing my hand to my stomach as I stared at myself in the mirror, I glanced at the clock again, and winced because Azriel would be here any moment. "I mean, have you guys even seen some of the women he goes for?! I'm like- I don't even know like the fucking pillsbury dough boy next to them. He's always going with supermodel looking women," I stared at my reflection again, letting out a heavy sigh.
"You're gorgeous Bee, shut it," Mor grins and fixes my hair one last time. "Plus," Kat tacks on after her, "They're only that skinny because they are sniffing and popping god knows what," Kat scrunched her nose a little with distaste. I looked down, I hated when they brought up Az's habits, or anything that related to them.
I clutched my little bag in my hand, feeling my phone buzz inside of it. My stomach flipped again and I swallowed hard, pulling my phone free from the little purse. im outside Short and sweet, typical Azriel. My stomach churned and twisted. "He's here?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, I'll see you guys there. Please don't watch us from the window," I grimaced, glancing out the window, my breath caught in my throat seeing Azriel leaning up against a black SUV, I figured Rhys must have got him a driver for tonight. He looked so, damn, good. He'd got a hair cut since last night, all his jewelry was on display, tanned skin gleaming in the setting sun, smoking of course, looked like a pre roll from here. My heart skipped a few beats in my chest, my stomach feeling like molten lava.
"I can't make any promises," Mor giggled softly, Kat along with her and I glanced back at the two of them who were a little too close for comfort. I briefly wondered if they had ever hooked up. Wouldn't have surprised me. I narrowed my eyes at their laughter, not finding anything funny.
"Okay I'll see you later," I repeat, my knees feeling weak as I left Kats apartment, into the warm evening air. Azriel's eyes were instantly on me, and he smiled, grinned actually as his eyes raked over my body, briefly settling on my nipples, the rings making them visible under the thin fabric of the dress, I had picked some heart ones out for tonight, I hoped Azriel would like them... If we even got that far.
I felt my face heating up, Az must be laughing at me in his head. I looked ridiculous, like I always did when Kat dressed me up like a doll.
"You look gorgeous," he was blushing now too, his throat bobbed slightly as he took my hand and pulled me in for a half hug, his large hand pressing into my lower back. I felt like I might pass out, like my knees might give out on me completely, they were already wobbling.
"So do you," I blurted, and the color on my cheeks deepened, causing him to let out a throaty laugh. It wasnt a lie, even though it sounded dumb. He was so damn beautiful, sexy, handsome... He looked like a tattooed god in the golden hour lighting.
"Do I?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. I was starting to wonder how I was going to survive the night, it had been, what, a few minutes? And I was already soaking wet, my body absolutely begging for him. I wondered if he could see it in my eyes.
I could tell he was a little nervous or maybe as much as me, despite how cool he was playing it.
"You always do," I had the fight the urge to fan myself, I was getting hotter by the moment. He just shook his head, his hair shaking with the motion, still smiling down at me before he gestured to the door and opened it for me to get in the back seat. It was quite roomy, definitely one of Rhys' family cars, it was modified on the inside, the seats created an L shape in the back of the car. I took a seat in one of them, taking in the small space. My lips parted slightly in surprise at the bouquet of green apple blow pops that was resting on the other seat, a Chanel ribbon wrapped around them with a small box next to it. Okay, I was definitely melting now, it was so hot in here, or maybe it was just me.
Azriel smiled sheepishly at my expression as he got into the car, picking up the lollipop bouquet and the small jewelry box, his eyes looking shy, this was new, he was never shy. Mysterious, quiet, maybe even a little RBF, but he never looked shy. "I just wanted to say thank you, for coming with me," his voice was quiet as the car began rolling forward now that we were both settled into the back seat. "And happy early birthday, I didnt forget," his lips twitched slightly as he extended the small box and lollipop bouquet. The fact that he remembered what we had first ever bonded over, it made my chest swell a little bit. Made me long for him even more. In so many more ways than just the physical.
"Az- you didnt have to-" my mouth felt so dry, I felt like I had lost the ability to speak. With everything going on recently, I myself had almost forgotten my twenty third birthday coming up next week.
"I wanted to," he pressed, leaning back as he waited, watching me expectantly. My fingers shook slightly as opened the box, a little breath escaping my lips at the sight of the little gold and pearl Chanel hoops that he had picked out for me. They looked expensive and it made my cheeks burn brighter. This definitely wasnt like Azriel, I couldnt remember a time he'd ever bought a woman jewelry. But he bought some for me. "They match your dress," he mused, and I felt his eyes raking over me again.
"Azriel- These are so pretty- I can't- They must have cost like at least three tattoos, I can't accept these-" I fumbled over my words, feeling naked under his gaze, he just shook his head, smiling a little bit. He looked, pleased.
"Let me put them on for you," he mumbled, his eyes boring into me as he leaned forward, so close, now. My breath hitched, his scent filling my nose, making my heart beat just a little bit faster. He brushed his finger over my neck as it travelled up to my ear, my toes curled at the feeling of his rough fingers against my soft skin. Carefully he used his other hand to hold the stud in place before popping the back off of my current earring. Azriel repeated the same motions on the other side, his tongue poking slightly between his lips in concentration. I watched his jaw flex slightly, my body felt so tense, my brain begged me for more, begged me to jump on him in the back of Rhys' family car.
He carefully took out one of the hoops and his fingers brushed my skin again as he clicked the first one on, being careful not to pinch my skin. I shivered a little bit feeling goosebumps rise on every inch of my body, Azriel smirked, his eyes meeting with mine before he carefully put the other earring on. Definitely going to pass out. It felt like my heart stopped every time our eyes met. "Just like how I imagined," he leans back to get a good look at me, licking his lips, heat pooled in my core, my toes curled against my will.
"Oh Az," I breathed out, hardly recognizing my reflection in his phone, he had pulled it out with the front camera facing me so I could see my new earrings. "You really shouldn't have," I breathed again, my cheeks were red, lips pinker than usual and puffy from how much I was biting them, my eyes were hazy with lust and everything else I felt for him. I was glowing a little bit, I looked... Nice. He cleared his throat, his eyes softening into something else besides just the lust that burned on the surface of both of our gazes, something deeper.
"But I did though," he said softly, and his eyes flicked down to my bouquet of green apple blow pops. "You better share later," he raised an eyebrow, smirking at me. "I didn't steal them this time I paid for those," he chuckled quietly. My heart warmed again at the memory. This was really happening, my Az... Taking me on a date. He was so charming this was the Azriel I knew, this was my Az.
"Of course I'll share with you Az, how couldn't I?" I laughed and squeezed the bouquet a little tighter, my heart felt so big, my chest felt so warm, I had never felt so whole. He smiled at me and just looked, savored every inch of me as if he too had been waiting for a while. Even though it wasnt nearly as long as I'd been waiting for him. I looked back at him, appreciating every inch of him, the few freckles that dusted his nose, making him look just slightly more boyish, his burning hazel eyes that could see right through me, his kissable lips, strong but still just soft enough jaw....
Something flashed in his eyes as if he remembered something. "Can I ask you something about Eris?" he says casually, but there was a certain edge I could feel in his tone. My stomach flipped slightly, and I leaned back.
"Sure," I nodded, nervously playing with the ribbon he had tied around my lollipop bouquet. I had no idea what to prepare for, had no clue what Az was about to ask, it had my stomach churning nervously.
"Did you.. Did Eris eat you out?" his tone was still even, question direct and forward as if he had every right to ask me that. My eyes widened at his bluntness. Jealousy?
"Azriel!" My cheeks blazed and I slapped his arm, my other hand tightly gripping my bouquet. He didnt say anything, only raised a brow expectantly still waiting for my answer, not a smile in sight. "No, he didnt-"
"Okay," he cuts me off there, smiling sheepishly at me now. "Ever since I walked in on you- Ive been obsessed with tasting you, I just had to know," he admits, licking his lips as if his mouth was watering at the thought. He had no shame, he wasnt embarrassed that he had been thinking about me like that, no, he was enjoying watching me squirm with every single confession.
My cheeks burned as I thought about him, thinking about tasting me. It had my tongue feeling heavy in my mouth, like it was weighing on the back of my throat, making it harder to breathe. Ive been obsessed with tasting you. The thought almost embarrassed me, Az wanted to taste me, so bad that he had been obsessed with the thought.
"You alright Bee?" his eyes were twinkling with amusement, and arousal. He was realizing his effect on me, how down bad I truly was for him.
"I just- Its hot in here-" And it was, my legs involuntarily squeezed together, Azriel didnt miss it.
"You have no idea what youre in for tonight Bee."
-
I didnt know how I had ended up here, a few celebratory glasses of champagne, admiring Azriels and some other artists works, a few hors d'oeuvres, and I was now on Azriels lap behind the shops booth.
I was a hot mess for sure, everyone in our group was giving us glances, maybe in disbelief. I didnt blame them, Azriels open PDA was almost alarming. We hadn't kissed yet, but I was on his lap, his large fingers were gripped tightly around my hips, and my body was practically buzzing with need for him. Covered in goosebumps, my pussy swollen and throbbing in the little white lace panties I had selected. At this point, after spending the entire night with Az, being on his arm all night like he promised, it was practically painful not to have him inside of me. Why weren't we going home yet? There had been fleeting, subtle touches all night, whispers in my ear that sent my toes curling in my high heels. Id wondered if he'd noticed that, he'd been stealing looks down at my freshly pedicured feet all night.
He was rock hard, I could feel his cock through his pants completely my thin dress not adding a thing to the barrier, I could feel him pressing against me, he felt so big. I was barely able to focus on anything else that was going on, the conversations they were having, that somehow Azriel was apart of. I didnt know how he was even able to engage. No one seemed to notice I hadn't said anything in ages, or if they did they didnt bring it to attention.
"I really am proud of you Az, this shits amazing for business," Rhys hadn't shut up about how pleased he was since the final voting had ended and the hosts had announced that they had won both categories Artist of the Year and Tattoo Parlor of the Year. Azriel was being modest, but they won because of him. Because of his talent.
"It was really nothing," he says casually, his voice was still low and gravelly like it had been all night, I wondered if it was because he wanted me as much as I wanted him. It sure felt like it. He snaked his arm around me, spreading his hand across my lower stomach and pulling me further onto him, my legs spread slightly with the movement, my back falling flush against his chest. I let my head tilt back onto his shoulder, savoring the feeling. The bulge of his cock brushed lightly against my aching pussy, just barely, enough to drive me more mad and I cursed the stupid dress for getting in the way of me feeling him more. Should have worn leggings.
"Youre being modest," Cass laughs and glances over, he blushed when he noticed the way that Az was holding me and he quickly looked away. I blushed too, maybe this really was too much for the setting we were in, I couldn't bring myself to get up. I feel Az shrug behind me, his hand still pressing into my stomach, it felt like he was burning a hole straight through my dress.
I don't even hear what Rhys says next because my senses are reduced to Azriels lips brushing against my earlobe, the feeling of his hot breath on my skin. "I have a surprise for you," he whispers into my ear, the feeling sends more heat settling between my thighs, so dizzy.
"What?" I manage, my brain feeling so foggy, it was like Azriel was the only thing I'd ever thought of, the world around practically didnt exist. He chuckled, the sound sent more shivers down my spine.
"I said," his other hand slid over the top of my thigh, gently rubbing through the thin fabric. I suppressed a moan, my eyelids involuntarily fluttering shut. "I have a surprise for you," he repeated, the feeling of his voice against my ear making me squirm in his lap. "Bee you gotta stop that," he hissed softly under his breath, his arm tightening, pressing me further into him as if to still me. "There's people around," he mutters, my eyes flutter open again as if remembering for the first time, I make eye contact with Mor first and then Kat, I grimace at both of them, because they were watching us, giggling like school girls. I knew I wasnt going to live this down, right now I didnt care, nothing could ruin my bliss.
"Can we please go now Az? Ive been soo patient," I turned my head slightly, his nose and lips brushed against my cheek, I fought the urge to grind my hips against him, and failed miserably when I imagined his mouth between my legs and his nose pressed against my clit. He cursed quietly under his breath and sighed, this had to be torturing him as much as it was me.
"Think we'll skip drinks," Az said casually and he stood up, pulling me to stand with him, my body still flush with his, my cheeks reddened as I felt everyones eyes on us. "Bees tired, gotta get her back, you don't mind Rhys, do you?"
Rhys eyes flashed with something I didnt recognize as he observed Az and I. I looked away, feeling mortified, because obviously with the way we had been all over each other all night... Everyone knew what we were really going to do. The thought sent nerves flipping my stomach, suddenly I regretted rushing him. "That's fine," Rhys smirked, exchanging a knowing glance with Cass who looked like he was holding his tongue. "You've done enough Az, you two should go enjoy your night,"
"Id hug you for being so damn good bro, but I don't want your little chub rubbing my leg," Cass snickered earning an initial glare from Azriel but it turned into a smirk. My cheeks burned, I wished I could fall into the floor.
"Yours might be thicker Cass, but mine will always be longer," Az shrugs, making Cassian laugh from his perch on the stool he was sitting on.
"You guys are disgusting," Mor shakes her head in disbelief. "Now I remember why I moved, no one wants to listen to a bunch of guys fighting over who's dick is bigger, y/n I suggest you take him away now before Rhys joins,"
"Mor everyone knows mines the biggest, I don't even bother arguing with them anymore," Rhys laughs and waves her off, cocky and arrogant as ever. My cheeks burned, I didn't bother to listen to her response.
Azriels hand found mine and interlaced our fingers as we bid our goodbyes to everyone, my chest swelled at the gesture. Az didnt forget to thank the hosts on the way out, I marveled at him, admiring how professional he could be, no one on the outside would ever know the demons he faced unless he let them.
"Thank you for that, Bee," he says when we are finally alone, the car was waiting just a little ways down, my hand felt slightly sweaty in his, my heart already pounding in my chest with anticipation for what was going to come. He squeezed a little, as if sensing my nerves, "I really think, with you on my arm," he blushed, as if his own words surprised him, he swallowed before finishing, "I could do anything." My cheeks blazed at his admittance, my stomach doing somersaults as he glanced over at me under his thick lashes, his eyes still hazy and lust filled, but soft too, like he finally returned those tender feelings I had for him for so long.
"Of-of course Az," it seemed like I hadn't been able to form a proper thought or sentence all night. Being with Azriel... It was mind numbing madness. I had never imagined I would be this much of a blubbering idiot. He didnt say anything else as he lead me back to the car we had arrived in.
"You didnt forget about your surprise did you?" he asks, leaning back into the back seat, Az had immediately pulled the partition when we got into the car which hadn't done anything to settle my nerves.
"Azriel where are we even going?" I ask softly, glancing out the window, we definitely weren't headed back to the apartment.
"You'll see," he said softly and leaned over, closer to me, I turned to face him, our lips nearly brushing. "I've been waiting to do this all night," he gently slides his thumb over my jaw before curling his fingers into the hair on the nape of my neck, my core was molten, my entire body screaming for him.
"What are you doing to me?" I breathe out dumbly, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest. He pulls me closer, our foreheads resting gently on one another's now.
"I've been asking myself the same thing about you since I walked in on you in my room," his lips brushed mine as he spoke, his eyes burning into mine, we were so so close. My heart pounded against my chest, "I can't stop thinking about you Bee, every time I get myself off I think about you. I'm going crazy, I can't stop thinking about what your little pussy tastes like, about making you moan for me," my breath hitches slightly at his vulgarity, his voice was low and gravelly making my toes curl. He finally pressed his lips against mine, his tongue slipping past my lips. I kissed him back my head spinning with the feeling, finally, finally he was kissing me again.
"Az I've wanted this for so long," I hum against him, feeling delerious, I let out a soft involuntary whimper as his rough, scarred fingers slowly slide over the back of my ankle and up my calf.
"I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me this whole time Bee," he whispers, trailing kisses down my neck, my eyes threatened to roll back into my head. "Should have been us from the very beginning," he slowly kisses over the tops of my breasts, his fingers tightening gently around the back of my knee. "I should have taken your virginity, been your first boyfriend, I should have showed all of this to you a long time ago," he breathed out, sliding his hand to the front of my knee and up the top of my thigh toward the place I needed him most. I exhaled, tilting my head back, my back arched slightly as his fingers brushed against my clothed cunt. "I'm gonna make up for all that though," he mumbled gruffly before slipping my panties aside, I gasped at the feeling of Azriels scarred fingers on my soft bare pussy lips for the first time.
"Az," I whimpered quietly, my hips grinding against his fingers, he cursed under his breath, slowly sliding his middle finger into my opening. I gasped, gripping his shoulders, "Azriel," I breathed out again as he wiggled his long finger inside of me in a come hither motion, hitting my g spot over and over.
"Fuck you're soaking for me," he breathed out, sucking the skin over my collar bone lightly, the palm of his hand ground against my clit as he expertly finger fucked me without even pulling his fingers in and out. My dress was pushed up past my knees, my breathing heavy and ragged as I held onto him, every bump or crack in the road that the car hit made me moan harder. He didn't stop until I came, cursing quietly under his breath as my body shook lightly. He had already made me cum more than anyone else I had to ever been with, and we hadn't even fucked yet. I tried to ignore that his skills probably came from lots of practice. "We're here baby," he slowly pulled his finger from my pussy, a whoosh of breath left my lips at the new feeling of emptiness. My head spun as he sucked my release off of his finger, his eyes closing as he did, humming softly as if he had been waiting so long to know what I tasted like. It made my mouth go dry, made the breath catch in my throat.
-
So damn good. She tasted so good. Azriel couldn't wait to get her upstairs, bury his face between her legs and fully taste her. He opens his eyes again, licking his lips at the sight of her after orgasm hazy eyes, wet lips, flushed cheeks and chest. "Come on," he nods toward the car door.
"Where are we?" she manages to get out scrambling to straighten her dress out, her brows crinkling together slightly, it made his heart swell, made him smile.
"I told you I had a surprise," he shrugged easily and opened the door to the car and held it for her, watching with endearment as she collected the bouquet of lollipops he had gifted her and the small box that had contained the earrings. He smiled as her eyes widened looking up at the tall fancy hotel before them, despite how late it was, a doorman opened the door to let them inside. She waited in a cushy lobby chair while he checked in, and he couldn't help but keep glancing back at her.
"Az this is ridiculous seriously. This room must have cost a fortune," she says as they finally entered the room on one of the top floors of the hotel. He let the door shut behind them, his eyes scanning over the room, a king bed, amazing view, a bottle of champagne on ice in a golden colored bucket, two glasses beside it.
"Rhys asked me what I wanted yesterday for all of my hard work on the event, think he felt bad cus he kinda laid into me the other day. I think he expected me to ask for money... I asked him to get me a room in the best hotel in the city for tonight," he smiled shyly, his cheeks growing red with the admittance. It was embarrassing hearing it out loud, he didn't know how to feel about his behavior. All of this was new for him, and with Bee? He didn't have time to process anyway, it all felt too good, too right, being here with her.
"Az... You didn't have to do that," she twists to look at him, her eyes glowing, her cheeks just as red as his. Azriel knew she wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable, not for years at least, maybe once... Long ago, when his family was still around.
"I wanted to. I wanted tonight to be.. Special," he almost couldn't believe himself, couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth. He couldn't recall ever doing anything like this for anyone. He had never really been one for romantics. Lately he was starting to reconsider it, the look on Bees face made him feel so whole inside. And she deserved this, she deserved a night to be spoiled and shown that he did see her now too. He saw everything, saw the way she had been there for him all those years, stood by him, no matter how many fucked up phases he went through she was always there.
"It already was Azriel," she breaths, twisting around to look at him again, she was standing in front of the bed now, her eyes were darting around nervously, her arms wrapping self consciously around her stomach. "You didn't have to waste your bonus on this," she mumbled softly, her cheeks still so pink as if she thought she wasn't worth any of this, little did she know she was worth so much more.
"Don't be shy now Bee, it's not so long ago you were a moaning mess in my bed, I've already seen you naked," his eyes travel over her, stopping for a moment at the tops of her breasts, pushed up by her arms against her body. His cock was aching, so fucking hard... It had been all night, he had been adjusting himself all night to hide his massive hard on. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, his head eyes never leaving her, blazing into her skin.
"But Az I-" she starts, he could see her breath catch, her chest rising and falling. Goosebumps already covered her skin and he hadn't even touched her yet since they entered the room.
"Shh.. Strip," he commands softly unzipping his pants because he couldn't take how tight they had gotten any longer, his cock had been aching all night. He sight with relief at the release of tension, but still didn't pull his pants fully off, waiting and watching her. She blinked, exhaling softly, her arms slowly dropped to her sides but she didn't move to slip her dress off. How could she not see how beautiful she was? "Go on," he coaxed, his jaw flexing as his eyes raked over every inch of her.
"Az... I'm like- I can't just... Strip," her voice caught in her throat and he smiled at her, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her.
"I'm going to teach you that you can do a lot of things you think you can't do," his voice was husky, laced with desire as he took a step toward her. "Go on Bee, take it off for me," he breathed out and she blushed deeper, closing her eyes and leaning down to pull her dress completely over her head. Azriel let out a shaky breath at the sight before him, only her heels and her white lace panties remained, the tight fabric showing the outline of her cunt. His eyes rest on her nipples then, his mouth watering at the sight of her nipple rings cute little hearts around her perfect little nipples. She tries to cover herself again, he sucks his teeth, shaking his head at her and closes the distance between them holding her arms at her sides so she couldn't cover her body.
"You look so good to me," he assured, knowing how she could be, the phase she went through that one summer where she wouldn't eat. He had picked up the pieces, taken care of her like she had done for him so many times.
She blushed again, looking down at her feet, he followed her gaze, cute little french tips that he loved so much. His cock throbbed again at the sight. He grabbed her chin, tilting her head up so her eyes would meet his. "I mean it," his eyes bore into hers, he let his emotions show, let his walls come down a bit. He wanted her to know how much she truly meant to him. "You are everything Bee," he slides his hands over her ass and the bottom of her thighs scooping her up and placing her on the bed, he let out a heavy breath at the sight of her on the bed.
"Az-" she breathed, her eyes widening as she looked up at him, his eyes were dark with lust as he untied the ribbon around her blow pop bouquet, the lollipops all falling onto the table with thudding sounds.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, his gaze not wavering as he looked down into her eyes past them, as if he was looking into her soul. It made her body wriggle beneath him.
"Of course I do Az but-" she swallowed her words, her breath catching in her throat as he put one of the sleeping masks that had been provided by the hotel over her eyes covering her world in darkness. "Oh.." she breathed out softly, her back slightly arching as he slid his hands up her arms and tied her wrists with the ribbon, tying them to the headboard of the bed. He figured she couldn't be worried about what her body looked like if she couldn't see. He stood back for a minute, marveling at her, watching her breasts rise and fall with each breath admiring the high heels she was still wearing and her wet cunt, soaking through the fabric of her panties.
All tied up and blind folded in front of him... He had never seen anything so beautiful. Her arms were pinned above her head, her chest on full display for him. He let out a throaty long breath before he knelt on the bed in front of her, carefully undoing the straps on her heels, his rough fingers brushing the soft skin on her ankles, as he pulled them off and discarded them on the floor one by one, she whimpered, pulling her hands against the restraint. "I really have been so blind," he muttered before pressing a kiss to the sole of her foot, her back arched again, a small whimper escaping her lips.
"Az.. Please.." She begged, her voice so needy and desperate it was driving him even more crazy. "I've been wanting this for so long..." she whimpered, the sound made his cock twitch in his pants.
He placed more open mouthed kisses on the soles of her feet, and the insides of her ankles humming softly to himself at the sweet smell of her skin. She was practically shaking already, he could see how wet she was already, her juices soaking through her panties. "Need to get those off," he mumbled softly to himself reaching forward and gripping her panties, tugging them down her legs, his fingers sliding all the way down the outsides of her legs as he pulled them off.
Why had he denied them both this for so long? He couldn't understand how he had been so blind.
An involuntary groan left his lips at the sight of her bare cunt, freshly waxed, smooth, glistening wet with her arousal and her first release in the car. "You are perfect," he breathed before he finally gave in to his desire to taste her, no matter how much he wanted to keep teasing her he had to have his mouth on her now.
He placed an open mouthed kiss over her nipple, sucking her pierced flesh into his mouth, making her moan again and causing him to grind his achingly hard cock in his pants against the bed.
"You've got nothing to be insecure about, you're so fucking perfect," he moans softly, wrapping his mouth around her other pierced nipple. "You're so lucky you got these done before you were mine," he muttered against her skin, sending shivers up her spine.
"Yours?" she asks breathlessly, her lips parting in surprise, he wished he could see her eyes, wished she could see the way he was looking at her. He figured it was probably better she didn't anyway. Even if they were kind of past the point of going back now.
"Yes, mine," he mumbles, pressing more soft kisses to her skin, between her breasts and down the middle of her stomach to her belly button. "All mine," he didn't have time to think about whether or not he would regret any of it later. He just needed her to know how he felt about her, how every touch and kiss made him want to claim her even more.
"I've been waiting to hear you say that for so long," she breathed, and he could see the bottom of her cheeks redden under the sleeping mask at her confession. His chest tightened slightly, he just hoped he could live up to her expectations. To whatever standards she held for a relationship. He figured giving up his event bonus was a good start, he wouldn't think about how much cocaine he could have bought with the cash Rhys must have spent on this room. It didn't even matter, the look on Bees face when she'd seen the view had made it so worth it.
"Now I'll show you," he grunted quietly, pressing another wet kiss just below her belly button. She shivered again and he couldn't help himself, he placed his hand on her inner thigh, spreading gently and he slowly rubbed his thumb on the outside of her dripping wet cunt, his rough skin gliding easily.
She whimpered, pleaded, begged him for more.
He was slow, gentle as he licked up and down between her folds, weaving his tongue in and out.
-
It was almost blinding, the feeling of Azriels lips and tongue on my throbbing swollen pussy was making stars dance in my eyes. With every suck, lick, flick of his tongue my hips rotated, ground against his tongue, I tugged, trying to get my hands free so I could run my fingers through his tousled hair, pull his face onto my pussy, wrap my legs around his head. The ribbon didn't budge, the more I fought it only made my wrists ache worse, I barely noticed it as my pussy pulsed with each mini orgasm that shuttered through my body.
I didn't know how long it had been. I couldn't see the clock with my sight cut off from the sleeping mask. The darkness only seemed to make me feel everything else so much more. I needed his cock, I needed it so fucking bad. I needed to feel him fill me up, my pussy ached for him, I felt like I had never needed anything more in my life.
I didn't know it was possible for a man to make me feel like this. Of course. Of course it was Az. I broke out in another soft cry, my hips trying to pull away from his relentless licks and sucks, my clit was so damn sensitive. Orgasm after orgasm, I was about to start begging him to stop, it felt too good, I almost couldn't take it anymore.
"I need your cock," I whined again, pulling relentlessly at the ribbons biting into my wrists. Az had tied them tight enough they wouldn't budge. I wasn't even surprised anymore at the lack of shyness, the total lack of self control that I now had underneath his absolute trance.
"Be patient," he chuckled softly against me, the vibration of it sending another soft whimper through my body, he made little circles with his tongue, sending me writhing again he held me still flicking his tongue on the sensitive skin between my cunt and my ass.
It felt like it had been hours that he had been eating my pussy. Realistically it had probably been more like forty five minutes, but I had no clue with this damn blind fold on. My body was shaking, weak, spent, and he hadn't even started fucking me yet. Azriel had been talking me through every single orgasm, big and small. 'Good girl,' 'Cum for me,' 'Look at that pretty little cunt leaking for me.' His voice had been so low and gravelly each time, that husky tone that was new to me and definitely this hungry, lust filled Azriel was my new favorite version.
"I can't be patient anymore Az, please, let me see you," I begged, my legs kicking slightly, as I exercised any freedom I still had.
"You have been a good girl so far, keep it up and I might untie you too," he chuckles lowly, slipping the sleeping mask off of my eyes, they were already open, wide open, I let out another whimper at the sight of him. So gorgeous my heart almost stopped, Azriel...
My Azriel. Mine.
His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly puffy from how he had been eating me up for so long, his nose and his cheeks still glistening with me, his hair was a mess, falling over his eyes a little bit. His eyes. They were so dark with desire his normally hazel eyes almost looked black, I knew he needed me as much as I needed him, my stomach churned, heat pooling at the base of my belly all over again.
"Az please I need you," I repeated another small whimper leaving my lips, I couldn't believe I had been reduced to begging. I'd have time to be embarrassed, right now, I didn't care about anything besides him and I. Finally knowing what it felt like for him to fuck me after all the years I'd fucked myself and pictured his face, his hands, his shirtless body by the pool.
"Oh fuck baby," he groaned quietly, finally tugging off the rest of his clothes, his hard tanned cock slapped his stomach, precum leaking deliciously from his tip. I whimpered at the sight of him, tugging at my restraints again, the ribbon was starting to burn, it felt like it was cutting my skin, I knew it would bother me later but now I didn't have a care in the world.
He untied me as if he knew it must be starting to hurt, or maybe my wrists were turning red, I didn't know because he wrapped his large hand around both of my wrists, replacing the ribbon with them, pinning me to the bed. He held my hands so I couldn't put my hands on him, I desperately wanted to, knowing Az he wanted to be in control.
My back arched as he used his free hand to rub the tip of his cock slowly up and down my opening, the anticipation made my legs shake.
"Mm gonna fuck you raw baby that's my pussy," he gently slaps his cock against my cunt, making me cry out, my body flinching.
Finally, he slowly pushed into me, every inch making me melt deeper into the bed, my body falling into a blissful state. "Oh Az," I breathed out against his lips when our bodies finally connected completely. Our eyes met, and each thrust felt like him telling me how much he loved me, how much he needed me, appreciated me for standing by him.
I didn't hold back, I let my voice ring out, calling his name as he fucked me into absolute oblivion. He was panting over me, little beads of sweat forming on his brow as he concentrated.
"Mm you're so fucking tight," his gravelly voice slurred, his eyes burning into mine as he slammed his cock into me over and over.
"Az yes," I moaned loudly, my entire body shaking with another mind numbing orgasm, my toes curled, throat felt completely dry as I moaned again. Tears of pleasure welled up in the corners of my eyes as I came again on his cock.
"Oh fuck," he breathed, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and he came inside me. I didn't care about that either, I instantly scratched and clawed at his back when he finally let my hands free, trying to pull him closer, deeper as he came.
I lifted my eyes, staring into his as he rode out his own orgasm, my lids felt so heavy with the exhaustion of our activities, I could have fell asleep right there when he finally stilled, his forehead resting on mine.
I had never known sex could be like this. So blissful. So intimate. I felt like I knew Azriel on another level... And I knew I would remember this night for the rest of my life.
"I-I-" Azriel started, his face flushed as our eyes burned into each others and he opened his mouth again, I held my breath, my heart felt like it was standing still, listening with me. "I... I'm glad we did this, thank you for coming out with me," he breathed, my cheeks warmed, I knew he was going to say something else and held it back.
We had said it before, told each other that we loved each other, for me it had always meant something more.
"I love you Bee, happy birthday," my heart stopped as he grinned at me like he always did, I had just blown out the seventeen candles on my birthday cake. Our friends surrounded us, my cheeks reddened when I noticed Rhys watching us.
"Love you too Az," I breathed my heart feeling like it would leap out of my chest. I wished I had the courage to tell him. Wished I had the courage to say how much I loved him as more than a friend, how much he truly meant to me.
He gave me a wrapped squishy package and I tore the paper open, my heart nearly stopping as I held the hoodie up in the air.
He made it, I could tell, it was black with bits of fabric sewn onto it to make a bee. And a bees shadow. My stomach churned, my cheeks warming again.
"Az I love it so much," my breath felt like it was caught in my throat.
"I'm glad you like it, happy seventeenth," he smiled sheepishly and turned back around toward some girl Cassian had brought. My chest tightened.
Maybe someday I would get the courage to tell him.
-
a/n: IM SVCREAMING AND CRYINF AND DROOLING
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