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you sighed. the weight of zukos arms around your body and his torso nearly crushing you from behind didn't let you move even an inch from his bed. sunlight poured in through the latticed windows in his chambers. you could already tell it was well past the time a respectable fire lord would start the day and commit to his imperial duties. unfortunately, the fire lord in question couldn't seem to care less.
squirming in his hold, you managed to turn just enough to face him. his eyes were stubbornly shut, dark locks of hair messily falling over his forehead and sprawling across the pillows. you flicked his nose gently after you were able to wrestle your arm out of his embrace. he frowned, clinging to you tighter, making you smile helplessly.
"we cannot stay here forever, you know," you murmured softly, now stroking his cheek with your thumb. he subconsciously leaned towards your touch, chasing your warmth.
"yes, we can." his tone was low, stubborn. you huffed out a laugh. the sound made him finally open his eyes. the love in his gaze was sometimes overwhelming. you flushed under the scrutiny, turning shy like the two of you were still newlyweds.
zuko suddenly shifted, propping himself up by his elbows and trapping you underneath. the change made you startle as you stared up at him with wide eyes and barely concealed amusement. he frowned at you childishly. giggling at his expression, you cupped his face.
"cruel woman," he accused, his voice still gruff from sleep. "you command me to leave this bed and yet you tempt me so," he buried his nose in your neck, nuzzling your skin. "how do you expect me to leave when you act like this?"
"i do not know what you mean, husband," you feigned innocence. as he looked back up at you, you kissed his lips, soft as a feather and grinned, your gaze fond. he stared blankly, then cursed, his head falling on to your chest.
"look at what you've done to me. i must punish you for daring to weaken the fire lord so shamelessly."
your arms immediately came up to wrap around him, heart swelling with affection. your fingers carded through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. taking it as encouragement, he cuddled even closer, as if he wanted your bodies to become one. just before the two of you could go back to sleep, however, a series of knocks fell on the wooden doors, making zuko immediately groan.
"go," you kissed his hair, breathing in its scent of jasmine and sandalwood. he lifted his head just to stare petulantly, making you laugh. "and when you're done by sunset, i'll be waiting for you right here."
"swear it," he reluctantly got up just enough to look at you properly. capturing your wrist, he pressed his lips to your arm, travelling from the hollow of your elbow till your palm. "you'll be the only thing i think of even as i leave these chambers."
you smiled contentedly and nodded. "i swear."
✧.* a/n: don't ask me why they talk like that, they just do ✧.*
"That's it, sweetheart," Zuko hums, head lolling back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut. Your lower lash line is gleaming with balled-up tears as you gaze up at Zuko hopelessly, who is pleasantly blissed out. A strong hand reaches out to intertwine with your hair, fingers massaging your scalp softly as he rolls his hips up slowly into your tight throat, a shaky sigh leaving his lips. "Taking me so well."
His praise wasn't helping the ache you feel, your clit throbbing painfully against your panties as you struggle to take as much of what you could of Zuko's length of what you can, his tip hitting deep down your throat. "You can take some more," Zuko mumbles, wiping a tear that slips down your pretty cheek, "You're doing so good."
Not helping, not helping at all, you whimpered and hummed in response, spreading vibrations through his cock. He moaned helplessly in response, causing you to want more of him. You were trying to take him as deep as you could without gagging on his cock, using your hand to jerk off the reminder that didn't fit into your mouth. "There we go, so good for me."
i woke up just in time (now i wake up by your side).
(‘only bought this dress so you could take it off’ — extra. can be read as a standalone.)
adult zuko x reader | contains smut | minors dni.
summary: in which zuko escapes his own engagement banquet to remind you that after years of longing, stolen glances and pretending neither of you noticed what was happening between you, he’s finally allowed to love you openly, and intends to enjoy every second of it.
content: adult!zuko x reader, friends to lovers, newly engaged, emotional intimacy, soft humor, gaang cameo, mutual pining payoff, explicit sexual content, praise/worship, fluff, tooth-rotting tenderness.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The engagement banquet had become something far larger than either of you intended.
What had originally been meant as a formal announcement to the court somehow transformed into one of the liveliest celebrations the royal palace had seen in years. Soft music echoed beneath curved ceilings while friends, diplomats and honored guests gathered shoulder to shoulder through the royal hall, servants weaving between crowded tables with wine and steaming platters.
Aang had nearly crushed the both of you in another hug sometime after the official announcement reached the banquet hall, smiling so brightly it seemed impossible not to mirror it.
“I still can’t believe this is real,” he admitted happily.
“You watched him propose,” you pointed out.
“I know, but now there are decorations!”
Katara chuckled at his side, then seamlessly redirected her attention to you both with an affectionate look.
“I’m so happy for you two.”
You smiled knowingly. “Happy or proud of your matchmaking skills?”
“Definitely both,” she admitted. “Do you know how exhausting it was watching the two of you dance around this for years?”
“In my defense,” Zuko muttered, “I was dealing with several international crises.”
“And somehow flirting was the one thing capable of defeating the Fire Lord,” Toph remarked as she wandered over holding onto Sokka’s arm, a cup balancing in her free hand.
Only then did you notice the aggressively oversized wrapped box tucked beneath his other arm.
“To commemorate the occasion,” Sokka announced proudly.
You stared at it with caution. “Why does it look dangerous?”
“It’s not dangerous.”
The box rattled ominously.
“…Sokka.”
“It only explodes a little.”
Katara looked horrified. “Sokka!”
“What? Fire Nation people love explosions!”
“We do not gift explosive materials at engagement celebrations,” Zuko deadpanned.
Toph leaned over and gave Sokka’s giant, rattling box an appreciative pat with her elbow, nearly spilling her drink. She snorted.
“Relax, Sparky. If it explodes, at least you’ll remember the engagement party.”
“I would like to remember it without structural damage to the palace,” Zuko replied.
“See?” Toph grinned, pointing vaguely in his direction. “He’s already talking like a married man.”
And through all of it; the laughter, the congratulations, the warmth of your friends gathered; you found yourself occasionally stopping just to look around in disbelief.
For so long, happiness had felt fragile around Zuko. Hard-earned and… temporary. Arriving carefully and quietly before disappearing again beneath duty, war, or expectation from others and himself. Tonight, the permanent tension between his shoulders had eased enough to notice, every smile that crossed his face arrived easily instead of restrained the way they once had been.
And every single time you caught him looking at you from across the hall, it felt almost unreal that this was your life now.
Zuko had once mastered the art of pretending. Back then, whenever you caught him staring, he would immediately look elsewhere: toward a servant passing nearby, a council member speaking, a random point across the room. Keeping his feelings hidden if he moved quickly enough.
Now his eyes couldn’t and wouldn’t fake not looking at you. Since the moment the two of you had finally confessed what had hung unsaid between you for years, his eyes had become hopelessly honest. Once his attention found you in a crowded room, it stayed there without shame. He had grown tired of denying himself even something as simple as looking.
And you caught him constantly tonight.
You had just finished enduring a conversation about future royal ceremonies when you noticed it again.
You tilted your head. “Do I have something on my face?” you asked once he finally approached again. “I’d rather my fiancé tell me if that’s the case.”
The word ‘fiancé’ visibly affected him, color rising toward the tips of his ears.
“No,” he answered quickly. “Not at all. You look beautiful.”
The kind of honesty Zuko delivered so naturally couldn’t get tired of stealing the breath from your lungs before you could prepare for it.
Your smile curled at the corners.
“You’ve been looking at me like that all night.”
His attention dipped toward the ring on your hand before returning to your face.
“I like what I see.”
“I suspected as much when you asked me to marry you,” you murmured, stepping close enough for the embroidered fabric of your sleeves to brush together.
You let your hand rest comfortably against the nape of his neck, your thumb lightly tracing the hairline there. His hands found their place on your waist without a second thought.
“You look unfair tonight too,” you admitted.
“Unfair?” He asked, lifting his brow.
“Dangerously so.”
You casually smoothed down the edge of his collar as you spoke.
“It’s making diplomacy very difficult.”
“That explains why the ministers have looked progressively more concerned every time I speak to you.”
You laughed as another cluster of nobles drifted past nearby.
“Well,” you said, glancing briefly toward the crowded hall around you, “what kind of plan shall we make now that I can no longer rescue you from royal responsibilities? We’ll have to endure them together from now on.”
His mouth twitched.
“Should we establish a signal?” you continued thoughtfully. “A sound, perhaps? Something subtle enough to indicate one of us is moments away from political collapse.”
“Tempting,” Zuko admitted as he leaned closer.
“But now that I don’t have to endure this alone anymore,” he whispered beside your ear, “I believe we’re more than entitled to just… leave.”
You blinked. “What?”
His expression remained serious.
“I’m far from being the ideal future Fire Lady,” you said, trying not to laugh, “but even I know that would be considered rude.”
“It is my utter pleasure,” Zuko replied, his grip tightening just a fraction on your waist as he guided you backward, “to introduce you to the art of escaping royal events.”
Movement near the entrance caught your attention. Several Kyoshi Warriors approached through the crowd with ease, green armor gleaming at all times. At their front walked Suki, smiling knowingly the moment she reached you both.
“There you are,” she said, her arms opening into a quick, welcoming embrace. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you, Suki!” You squeezed her hand briefly before letting go.
Suki then turned toward Zuko, who already looked suspiciously unsurprised by her arrival.
“Let us escort you.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Why do I suddenly feel like everyone knows something I don’t?”
“That would ruin the surprise!” Suki replied.
“You planned something?” you asked, turning toward Zuko.
“You’ll see…”
The Kyoshi Warriors guided you through quieter palace corridors away from the crowded halls, the sounds of the celebration slowly fading behind you with every turn.
Eventually Suki stopped beside a curved doorway tucked into one of the quieter palace wings.
Your brows lifted slightly. “Where are we—”
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Suki interrupted with unmistakable satisfaction before the Kyoshi Warriors turned and disappeared back down the corridor.
You looked toward Zuko immediately. “That is never a reassuring sentence.”
He only gestured for you to keep walking.
The moment you stepped inside, you stopped.
Pillows and folded blankets had been arranged across the polished floor beside a low dining table already filled with untouched food, tea still warm enough for steam to curl lazily into the air. Several dishes were instantly familiar, small things you had once mentioned liking during travels, desserts from a harbor market in the colonies, fruit glazed in honey exactly the way you preferred it.
“…You did this?”
“It didn’t seem right,” he admitted, “for the whole night to belong to the court.”
You stepped further inside, taking in the sight of the table.
“Oh my spirits,” you laughed softly, reaching toward one of the plates. “Are these—”
“You liked them in the Earth Kingdom.”
You looked up.
“The tea shop near the lower ring,” he continued, watching you. “You spent half an hour insisting they were better than the ones in the capital.”
“Because they were!” You defended, picking up one of the treats.
“You nearly started an argument with the owner defending them…” He walked up behind you, his hand coming to rest gently on the small of your back.
“He insulted my taste.”
Zuko huffed a quiet breath against your hair. “… He said they were too sweet.”
“And they were perfect.” You took a bite to prove your point.
A helpless smile tugged at his mouth.
“I know,” he said,his thumb tracing a small circle through the fabric of your clothes. “You looked very pleased with yourself eating them.”
Your heart nearly stopped at the realization that he remembered something so small simply because it had once made you happy.
Needing to do something before the feeling overwhelmed you entirely, you moved further into the pavilion and lowered yourself onto the cushions beside the table, carefully gathering part of your robes beneath you.
The blankets shifted as you settled, and you patted the cushion next to yours. Zuko watched you before following without hesitation.
You set down the small crumb of your food, your hands hovering over the table as you noticed a completely different dish hidden near the back.
“Oh, that is unfair!”
Zuko looked over at the platter you were pointing to.
“…What?”
“You included these too?”
Arranged near the edge of the table sat a small plate of fire flakes coated lightly in dark chocolate. One of the few desserts Zuko actually liked.
“You always steal them from my plate,” he pointed out, casually leaning his weight onto one hand as he sat beside you.
“Because you pretend not to like sweets and then guard these with your life.”
“That is completely inaccurate.”
“You threatened Sokka with bodily harm last month,” You countered, propping your chin in your hand.
“He touched them with his hands,” he said, rolling his shoulders back defensively.
You stared at him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“That is generally how eating works.”
Without thinking much about it, you reached toward the plate again and broke apart one of the honey-glazed pastries before holding it toward him expectantly.
Zuko looked at it, his gaze dropping to your fingers before rising back to your face.
“You’re feeding me?”
“You remembered my favorite dessert from a tea shop halfway across the Earth Kingdom. Yes, I’m feeding you.”
He leaned in to take the bite, his breath warm against your hand for the brief second it took to claim the pastry. He didn't blink, watching your expression change at the closeness.
“You’re enjoying this entirely too much,” you told him, keeping your hand resting near his jaw instead of pulling away.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“You absolutely do…”
His attention drifted briefly toward your mouth then back upward again, slower, long enough to make you completely forget what you were going to say next.
After finishing the last bite, he reached toward another plate near the center of the table instead.
“Try this.”
You narrowed your eyes when you noticed the dark chocolate-covered fire flakes resting in his palm.
“I tasted one for the first time five years ago and temporarily lost the ability to think.”
“That explains several conversations we’ve had since then.” Zuko said, a faint glint of mischief in his eyes.
You let out a disbelieving laugh. You accepted the sweet suspiciously, taking a careful bite.
The chocolate melted easily, sweet enough to lull you into a false sense of security. Heat bloomed across your tongue so suddenly your hand flew toward the tea beside you. Zuko was already shifting to slide the teapot closer to you, watching your reaction with nothing but a knowing smirk.
“Zuko, that is cruel!” you gasped, fan-waving your hand in front of your mouth.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “You’ll survive.”
“I don’t know,” you muttered after another hurried sip of tea, pressing the back of your cool hand against your cheek. “I think I just made contact with my ancestors.”
He tried to muffle a sudden, sharp laugh behind his hand, failing as a wide, boyish smile took over his face.
“My uncle used to hide those from me when I was younger,” he said, the leftover warmth of his laugh smoothing out his voice as he watched you recover. “Apparently I once ate enough of them to breathe fire on accident.”
You turned toward him slowly.
“…On accident?”
“I was ten.”
“That does not answer any part of my concern.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.
“Spirits,” you muttered, unable to stop smiling. You nudged his forearm with your elbow. “You were an actual menace.”
“Still am, according to some council members,” he said, leaning into the contact.
“Mm.” Your knee slid against his beneath the blankets pooled across the cushions. “I can see it.”
Zuko shifted beside you, his hand brushing your shoulder before his arm settled along the cushions behind your back. The space between you disappeared almost without notice, leaving your shoulder pressed solidly against his chest.
Your attention wandered across the table again before returning to him.
“You know,” you confessed in a near-whisper, “for someone who spent years pretending to be emotionally unavailable, you’ve become dangerously sentimental.”
“Don’t spread that around,” he replied, his breath stirring the stray hairs near your ear.
“Too late,” You reached up absentmindedly to smooth a crease near the collar of his robes, fingers lingering there instead of pulling away. “I’m telling everyone.”
“Traitor.”
“Future wife, actually.”
Zuko’s chest stopped moving as he held his breath. The pavilion suddenly felt very small.
He glanced down at your hand still curled against the front of his robes, his fingers closing gently around your wrist, thumb moving across the ring he had placed there only days before. He turned your hand in his, pressing a kiss against the ring resting on your finger as though he still couldn’t quite believe it belonged there.
Your eyes drifted shut when he leaned forward just enough for his forehead to rest briefly against yours.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured.
“Future wife?”
“Yes.”
The warmth of his voice brushed against your mouth now instead of your ear.
“Does it make you nervous?”, you inquired.
“No…”
One of his hands slid from your wrist to your waist before pulling you across the cushions and onto his lap with an ease that caught in your throat.
“It makes it very difficult to think about anything else.”
Your fingers curled more firmly into the fabric as your foreheads brushed together, every exhale shared in the quiet space.
“Zu—”
He kissed you before you could finish saying his name.
The kiss deepened before either of you could think to pull back. Your fingers twisted into the collar of his tunic, dragging him closer until there was no space left between your chests, until you could feel the rapid thud of his heart hammering through the silk.
The sound that escaped him vibrated against your lips, one hand sliding up your spine to cradle the back of your head while the other pressed flat against your lower back, molding you against him. The cushions shifted beneath your weight as he adjusted, angling his mouth over yours to lick along the seam of your lips. You opened for him without hesitation, and the heat of his tongue against yours sent a shiver straight down to your core.
“You have no idea how difficult it was pretending to listen to council members tonight,” he admitted.
You smiled against his mouth. “Let me guess. Because of me?”
“Entirely because of you.”
You answered by pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, just enough to make him gasp, and then you kissed him again before he could say anything else. The playfulness from earlier bled into something hungrier and urgent. His hands roamed with slowness at first, tracing the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, the bare skin of your thigh where your dress had ridden up.
He pulled back just far enough to look at you, eyes dark and half-lidded, firelight catching the edges of his scar. “Tell me what you want.”
You laughed breathlessly when his thumb brushed higher against your thigh.
“You ask that like you don’t already know...”
The world tilted as he laid you down, his body following, caging you in with arms braced on either side of your head. The weight of him pressed you into the softness beneath.
He kissed you again as his hand wandered down your side, slipping under the hem of your dress. Your fingers slipped briefly trying to untangle a layer of his formal robes.
“Who designed these?” you muttered against his mouth in frustration.
Zuko kissed the corner of your lips. “I’ll have them arrested tomorrow.”
He kissed you again before you could answer, slower, his hand shifting the heavy layers of silk completely out of the way as he pinned you down. His knuckles traced the edge of your underwear.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmured against your jaw, pressing a kiss to the hollow behind your ear. “Spirits…”
His hand tightened briefly against your thigh.
“I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
His words made you arch into him instinctively, fingers slipping into his hair.
“You’ve had me for years,” you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “You’re simply allowed to say it now…”
Zuko swore beneath his breath before dipping his head to suck a mark into the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs in a single motion. The cool air hit your wetness and you shivered, but then his hand was sliding between your thighs, fingers parting your folds with reverent care. He didn’t rush. He explored, tracing your shape, learning the way your hips jerked when he found the sensitive nub at your center.
“Zuko,” you breathed, voice breaking.
“I know,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours.
He shifted, freeing himself from his trousers with a hurried grace born of too many nights imagining this. The tip of his cock brushed against your entrance, slick with your desire, and he paused.
“Look at me,” he said.
You did. His gold eyes burned with something fierce and tender all at once.
“I want to see you...”
He pushed in.
The stretch was slow, inch by inch until he was seated fully inside you, and the feeling of being so completely filled made your eyes flutter closed. He stayed still, letting you adjust, letting the sensation settle over both of you like a shared breath.
“Spirits—” His forehead dropped briefly against yours as though he needed a second to recover. “You feel incredible.”
You opened your eyes and wrapped your legs around his hips, drawing him deeper. “Zuko… please…”
“What?” He asked, clearly willing to give you absolutely anything in the world.
“Move.”
And so he did.
The first few thrusts were gentle, a rocking rhythm that built a steady coil of heat in your belly. His mouth never left yours, messy kisses that mingled with the sounds of skin against skin. You clung to his shoulders, nails digging crescents into his flesh as the pace quickened.
But he was watching you. Every shift of expression, every bitten-off moan. He saw the way your lips parted, the way your back arched, the way your eyes rolled back when he angled his hips just so.
“There?” he asked, thrusting again.
“Don’t stop.”
The sound that left him at your response was somewhere between a groan and your name. You pulled him down into another kiss, half desperate and half smiling when his rhythm turned sharper, harder, his hips slapping against yours with wet, obscene sounds that filled the quiet room.
“Do you remember,” you breathed against his mouth, “when you couldn’t even look at me for longer than five seconds?”
Zuko kissed you harder, one hand tightening at your waist.
“… I was… trying to survive.”
The memory hit you so suddenly you had to hide your grin against his mouth.
“You were terrible at it.”
“I know.”
The fire crackled nearby, but you were beyond noticing anything except the weight of him, the heat, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
“I want to feel you coming undone around me,” he said, hand sliding between your bodies to press against your clit.
The combination of his thrusts and his fingers sent you hurtling over the edge. You cried out, clenching around him as the orgasm rippled through you, and he groaned at the sensation, burying his face in your neck as he kept moving, riding you through it.
When the aftershocks subsided, he slowed, but didn’t stop.
“No,” he murmured against your skin when you tried to catch your breath. “Not finished with you yet.”
He pulled out, leaving you feeling suddenly empty, before placing his hands on your waist to guide you around. He tugged you back until you were kneeling between his thighs, your back flush against his front. His arms wrapped around your waist, and his cock slid between your thighs from behind, nestling against your wet folds before he guided himself back inside.
This position when kneeling together, bodies stacked, every inch of contact maximized, let him reach deeper than before. His chest was a furnace against your spine. He buried his face in the curve of your neck, one hand splayed across your stomach while the other played with your clit.
“You feel me?” he whispered against your neck. The slow roll of his hips fractured your response into a broken sigh. “You feel so good like this.”
You could only moan, your hands gripping the blankets in front of you as he rocked into you, hitting that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyelids with each push and made you tighten around him.
“That’s it,” he breathed. “Just like that—”
He increased the pressure against your clit, matching the pace of his hips to the circles of his fingers while his mouth moved against your ear between broken breaths.
“You feel so perfect.”
Another slow thrust pulled a helpless sound from your throat.
“I’m never getting tired of this,” he admitted. His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I could spend the rest of my life like this.”
You tightened around him involuntarily.
“… That can be arranged.”
The second orgasm crashed over you like a wave, harder than the first, and you sobbed his name as you tightened around him. That was all he needed. Your name fell from his mouth unevenly as he came, spilling hot inside you with a shudder that shook his entire body.
His arms stayed locked around you, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, his breath ragged against your damp skin.Slowly, he softened inside you, but he didn’t pull out. Instead, he eased you both down onto your sides, curling around your back like a second skin.
The blankets were tangled beneath you, the fire had burned low, and the world outside the room had vanished.
He kissed the back of your neck, your shoulder, the shell of your ear, his arm resting heavily over your waist. The heat of his body seeped into yours, and you felt the last traces of tension drain away, replaced by a deep, bone-tired contentment.
Neither of you seemed particularly interested in moving.
Somewhere outside the pavilion walls, distant music from the banquet still drifted through the palace.
You let out a tired sound against the cushions. “Do you think they noticed we disappeared?”
His lips brushed lazily against your shoulder. “Eventually.”
You huffed quietly, sinking further back against his chest while your fingers played absently with the edge of the blanket tangled around your waist.
“The ministers are going to go crazy tomorrow…”
“They survive worse things.”
You turned your head slightly, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. “Such as?”
“My uncle’s tea lectures.”
You turned back, hiding your smile against the forearm draped over your chest.
“We abandoned our own engagement banquet.”
Zuko tightened his hold, pulling you securely against his chest.
“We escaped our engagement banquet,” he corrected. “Very successfully. Hope you learned something.”
“Ah. My apologies.”
“Accepted.”
His fingers found your hand, tracing over the ring resting on your finger again.
“What?” he murmured sleepily after a moment, noticing your silence.
“Nothing…”
His nose brushed against your shoulder. “Liar.”
“I was just thinking…” Your fingers intertwined with his. “I think we spent years making this far more difficult than it needed to be.”
He hummed. “Probably.”
“All that suffering,” you sighed dramatically. “For what?”
“To build character, clearly,” you could hear the smile in his voice, his comment pulling another tired laugh from you.
Sometime before dawn, sleep finally dragged both of you under completely. When you woke again, pale morning light had begun spilling softly through the pavilion windows.
The quiet weight of his arm was still anchored over your waist, anchoring you to the cushions. Zuko pulled you a fraction closer in his sleep, breathing softly against your neck like he had no intention of ever letting go again.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚
note: it’s been a while since these series! :’-) i just felt like writing it so i could do some smut, the (momentary!) lack of it in the whaletail island series is hurting me lol — this one can absolutely be read as a standalone, but if you’d like more of these two being emotionally repressed idiots in love, the other parts are there waiting for you. hope you enjoyed! Xx
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"i want to touch you," choso confesses quietly. "everywhere. is that… okay?"
the vulnerability in his voice makes your lips curl. "yeah," you whisper. "'course, 'cho."
he approaches slowly, reverently, like you're something precious. his hands shake slightly as they cup your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.
"you're so warm," he murmurs, wonder in his voice. then he kisses you—tentative at first, then deeper as you respond. he learns quickly, mimicking your movements, swallowing your soft moans.
his hands explore your body with genuine curiosity, mapping every curve and dip. when he touches your breast, you gasp, and he immediately focuses there, learning what makes you react.
"like this?" he asks, circling your nipple through your shirt. when you nod, he does it again, watching your face intently. "you're beautiful when you feel good."
you help him undress you, and then you undress him. his body is lean and marked, and when you touch him, he shudders.
"i've never—" he starts, but you silence him with a kiss.
"we'll learn together," you promise.
when you guide him to the bed, he follows eagerly. you show him how to touch you, where you like to be kissed, and he absorbs every lesson with desperate attention.
"here?" he asks, fingers sliding between your legs. when he feels how wet you are, his eyes widen. "d-did i do this?"
"yes," you breathe. "you make me feel so good."
he explores you carefully, watching your reactions to learn what you like. when he slides a finger inside you, you both moan—him at the tight heat, you at the intrusion.
"more," you encourage, and he adds another finger, pumping slowly. his thumb finds your clit by accident, and when you cry out, he focuses there, determined to make you feel good.
"choso," you gasp, "i need—i want you inside me."
his pupils dilate, and you feel him hard against your thigh. "i want that too," he admits. "want to be close to you. want to feel you."
you guide him to your entrance, and he pushes in slowly, carefully. the stretch is perfect, and you watch his face transform with pleasure.
"oh," he breathes, and it's almost reverent. "oh, you feel—this is—"
he bottoms out, and you both pause, adjusting. then instinct takes over, and he starts to move. his rhythm is unpracticed but enthusiastic, and the genuine emotion behind every thrust makes it perfect.
"mine," he murmurs, and there's something possessive in his tone that wasn't there before. "you're mine. say it."
"yours," you gasp. "i'm yours, choso."
something shifts in him—that careful control giving way to raw need. he fucks you harder, faster, one hand gripping your hip while the other tangles in your hair.
"need you," he pants. "need this. need to be inside you, need to make you feel good, need—"
you reach between your bodies to touch yourself, and he watches, fascinated, as you work your clit. the sight of you pleasuring yourself while he's inside you seems to drive him wild.
"teach me," he demands. "show me how to make you come."
you guide his hand to replace yours, showing him the rhythm and pressure you need. he learns quickly, and soon you're trembling beneath him, close to the edge.
"that's it," he encourages, and there's confidence in his voice now. "come for me. want to feel you. please, mine, please—"
the orgasm crashes over you, and you clench around him rhythmically. he groans, the sensation too much, and his hips stutter.
"i'm going to—where should i—"
"inside," you gasp. "come inside me, choso."
he buries himself deep with a broken moan, and you feel him pulsing, filling you with his release. he collapses on top of you, breathing hard, and you hold him close.
"again," he whispers after a moment. "can we do that again? i want to learn everything. want to know every way to make you feel good."
you smile, running your fingers through his hair. "we have all night."
his answering smile is beautiful and hungry. "then teach me everything."
Soft pants left your lips as your palms rested against your boyfriend’s heaving chest, imprints of your nails on the firm flesh of his shoulders. You’d just rode your poor, sweet boyfriend into oblivion after all.
“Are you okay, Cho?” You murmured, trailing your hand up to his damp cheek and rubbing his salty tears and sweat away.
He nodded, leaning into your hand. “M-Mhm…” Choso hummed, still going through the aftershocks of his nth orgasm. A soft smile grazed his lips as he settled even deeper into your touch.
You smiled too, slowly lifting yourself off his member. A soft slap against his skin broke the silence as you sat on your side of the bed. “Sit up.” You whispered, rubbing his chest. He quickly (as possible) obliged and rested his back against the headboard with a soft wince at the cool material.
“Here, drink it.” Your hands placed a glass of water that was on your nightstand into his own.
Choso drank it in maybe two gulps, then sighed with ease as he leaned onto your shoulder.
“Hmm… we should do that every night.” He suggested with an even wider smile, kissing your cheek and making a small noise of protest when you moved to get up from bed. “Where are you going?”
“To run a bath.” You replied before pressing a kiss to his forehead.
You came back a few minutes later to find him laying down, his arms wrapped tightly around your pillow, staring in the direction of the bathroom connected to your shared bedroom. He immediately perked up at the sight of you.
With a smile, you walked over to the bed while he sat up again. “Come on, babe. Let’s get in the bath.” You said to him, pressing your lips to his hand and pulling him up to his feet. He followed you to the bathroom and sat in the tub, sighing as he basked in the warm water. You got in with him, settling onto his lap.
“Mmh…” he hummed, nuzzling your neck. You reached to your side, grabbing a bottle of body wash and splatting some onto his loofah. The scented soap lathered against his skin as you rubbed the object along his back. “That feels nice.” He mumbled tiredly.
“Yeah?” You asked, trying to keep him awake so he wouldn’t pass out in the water.
“Mhm.” He confirmed, leaning against you even more as you scrubbed his arms.
“Don’t fall asleep, Cho.” Another soft noise of protest came from your boyfriend. “Cho.” You warned. He kissed your neck in response, his lips curved up in a drowsy smile against your skin.
The two of you got out of the bath after you washed yourself off as well. Choso could barely get dressed before collapsing onto the bed. You smiled and laid down beside him.
“Tired?” You asked, tucking his hair behind his ear.
He nodded, his eyes shut as he wrapped himself around you.
“Sleep, Cho.” You whispered, kissing the crown of his head as he buried his face into your neck again.
“I love you…” he mumbled softly.
Your lips formed a soft grin into his soft hair. “I love you more.”
A grunt of disagreement came from him at that. He smacked your hip, too spent and sore to argue about who loves who more right now. “No.” He whined. “Just sleep, please.” His words were muffled against your neck.
He heard you laugh. “Fine, fine.” You agreed. “But I still love you more.” You whispered, tightening your arms around him.
Tags: @hypnoticcexe
A/N: Please don’t translate my art without permission. Do not use for AI training.
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Seven Minutes in Heaven with Your Academic Rival— Nerdjo ( 18+)
You swear you’re going to cry—why, of all people, did it have to be his nerdy ass? The bane of your academic life.
That’s all you can think about while Shoko drags you and Satoru toward one of the closets.
Maybe you should just choke him for the full seven minutes. Tempting.
“Okay guys, try not to kill each other in there” Shoko says before pushing you both inside a little too hard.
You stumble forward and end up face-planting against something solid.
Warm.
Wait.
Since when did closet walls feel like that—
“Woah, not even five seconds in and you’re already on me… were you that desperate to get me alone?”
It takes you a second to process it.
That’s not a wall.
You lift your head slowly, only to see him grinning at you over his shoulder.
You push yourself away from him so fast you end up hitting the back of your head against the closet wall.
“Ouch” you mutter, rubbing the spot.
Great. What a way to embarrass yourself in front of him.
Satoru laughs, pushing his glasses up with those long fingers of his.
“Careful now… we don’t want that brain of yours to get hurt, do we?” he says, then tilts his head slightly. “And who’s going to lose debates to me?”
Your eye twitches, and you glare at him.
“Can’t you shut your mouth for one goddamn second?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to look like his closeness isn’t affecting you—or the fact that his legs are almost touching yours.
“And move your stupid long fairy-stick legs.”
You kick his leg, and he immediately kicks yours back in return.
“Actually—” he says, raising a finger like the stupid hot nerd he is.
“If you’re smart… first—my legs are not fairy sticks. Long, sure. But not fairy sticks.”
His gaze flickers to you with a playful glint.
“Second, this closet is small. If your eyes can see that, darlin’…” He smiles at you like he’s just made the smartest point in the world. “We don’t exactly have room for personal space.”
“I don’t know why it has to be you out of all people” you say, pressing your back against the closet wall—maybe if you press hard enough, you’ll just merge with it and not have to deal with him.
“Well, same… but you don’t see me complaining,” he says, leaning back, all while staring at you.
Your heart rate picks up at the way his blue gaze trails over you, as if he can see right through your act of trying to look nonchalant.
“Stop… staring at me like t-that” you curse yourself at the way your voice cracks.
Satoru just smirks at you… he knows he has you right where he wants you.
“Why?… unless it’s doing something to your pretty little heart?”
Your fingers tighten around the hem of your denim skirt.
“Ew, ew, and ew… you’re not my type. And it’s just… closet heat. It’s really getting hot in here.”
You glance at the watch on your wrist. Ugh, since when are seven minutes so long? Come on… come on.
“Right… the closet heat. But why are you clenching your thighs?” he says, nodding at your legs as if to prove his point.
Oh my God—you hate him. You hate him, the way he can make your breath hitch and heat pool between your legs with just his stare alone.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself… I just want to, um, go to the restroom,” you say, looking anywhere but at him.
Satoru hums. Just when you think he’ll be quiet, he adds, “You sure you’re not lying?”
"About what?"
"That you're fucking wet." Satoru steps forward, closing the already small distance between you two.
Your cheeks flush, and mouth falls open.
"Excuse me- that's not- you can't say things like that-"
He cages you in against the closet wall, his body pressing into yours, trapping you even more.
"Say that I'm wrong..." Satoru challenges, his voice a low rumble, his gaze intense as he looks down at you. The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.
But you're not one to back down. You meet his eyes, your expression defiant. "I'm not affected by you," you declare, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.
"We'll see about that," Satoru growls. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Then I'll prove you wrong."
He leans down, his breath hot on your ear as he whispers. "Right now."
With that, Satoru's hands skim down, gripping the hem of your skirt. He bunches it up around your hips and cups your soaked, cloth-covered cunt. Your hips buck involuntarily, and you gasp up at him, surprise and desire flashing in your eyes.
"Your pussy doesn't seem to hate me as much as you do, sweetheart," Satoru murmurs, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit through the fabric. "Still want to argue that you're not affected when you're dripping wet because of me?"
You tip your head back against the wall with a soft thud, baring your throat to him. Satoru takes the invitation, leaning down to leave a trail of wet kisses along your exposed column.
"Didn't I say not to hurt that pretty head of yours?" Satoru chuckles, nipping at your neck. "I don't want you to lose debates to me... sweetheart."
You groan, muttering between soft breaths, "Shut up."
Satoru smiles against your neck, kissing his way up to your jaw, his lips hovering above yours. His hot breath hits your lips as he whispers, "Make me."
You lost it. Screw your hate for him, the way he makes you feel is too much to resist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and crashed your mouth against his in a filthy, hungry kiss. Your tongues and teeth clashed against his, eager and demanding.
Satoru's hand moves to tangle in your hair, gently tugging your head back to get better access to your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses you, so filthy yet tenderly. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth while his fingers comb through your hair.
You both pull back, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. Your breaths mingle, his forehead pressing against yours, his glasses fogged up.
"Who knew nerds were this good?" you tease breathlessly, giving him a quick, chaste kiss.
Satoru chuckles low and moves to whisper against your ear, "This nerd is good at a lot of things... like tongue-fucking you till you squirt all over my mouth." He says, his tongue darting out to lick your ear, making you shudder.
You laugh breathlessly and shake your head. "No way, you can't... we only have, like-2 minutes left."
"Are you doubting me?" Satoru says, dropping to his knees in front of you. He grips your leg and wraps it around his broad shoulder.
"It's entirely impossible... you can't," you say, a confident smile playing on your lips.
Satoru looks up at you, grinning. "Hold this," he says, slowly taking off his glasses and holding them out to you.
You give him a confused look. "Why...?" you ask, bewildered.
Satoru kisses your inner thigh, making you shiver. He then slides your panties to the side, causing your breath to hitch.
"Because," Satoru says, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, making you bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan, "I don't like it when my glasses fog up when I'm eating my meal."
Satoru licks up to your clit, then drags his tongue between your folds to your entrance. He gives it two gentle pushes of his tongue before delving it fully into your tight hole. A moan slips past your lips, and your fingers fly to fist in his hair.
Satoru doesn't stop, his tongue thrusting in and out of you, his hands squeezing your ass, urging you to grind against his face. His nose presses deliciously against your clit, and you can't help but move your hips side to side to rub your clit on his nose.
"Fuck-ahh- feels so good," you moaned, "S-satoru-mmmm-ahh"
Satoru groans against you in approval, then withdraws his tongue to suck your clit, making you gasp. He plunges it back inside, expertly lapping at your G-spot, sending waves of pleasure through you.
"Oh-yes-just like that," you moan, your eyes threatening to roll back. You grind your clit against his nose, seeking more pressure.
Satoru feels your cunt clench around his tongue, and he digs his fingers into your hips, fucking you with his tongue in rapid, desperate thrusts. Suddenly, you scream. Your orgasm rips through you, and you flood his face with your release.
Satoru groans, swallowing your juices greedily. "Fuck, you taste so good," he growls, licking and sucking your pussy clean, not wanting to waste a single drop.
You stumble forward, the intensity of the moment making you dazed and dizzy. Satoru catches you, pulling you against his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.
"Don't pass out on me now, darling," he chuckles softly, looking down at you in his arms.
"I'm fine," you say, burying your face in his neck to hide your flushed cheeks.
"Hmm... I know," he chuckles, nipping your earlobe. "That's why you're standing up perfectly upright, right?"
A few minutes later, Shoko knocks on the closet door.
"Yo, guys! Seven minutes are up," she calls out.
"You sure they didn't kill each other in there?" Suguru asks from beside her.
"We're fine," Satoru smiles, smoothing down your skirt and your hair.
"You know I'm not done with you," he says, pressing his hips against yours to show you just how hard he is and how much he needs you.
You smirk and tiptoe to wrap your arms around his neck.
"And?" you tease, your voice low.
"Come back home with me, where I can fuck you with no time limit."
You slide his glasses back on. "But don't you have studies to do?" you ask, grinning softly at him before moving your lips to his jaw.
"I can multitask, sweetheart" he grins back, his eyes crinkling at the corners, sending a flutter to your stomach. He pulls you closer, turning his face to catch your lips with his in a kiss that promises what's about to come.
𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃
AN: i’m so sleepy… imma go hug my pillow and pretend it’s nerdjo. 😔
You had just indulged in an abundant amount of food at a Korean barbecue restaurant with friends.
The moment you got home, you practically peeled your outfit off and swapped it for the stretchiest clothes you owned, letting out a satisfied groan as relief washed over you. Behind you, Gojo sprawled across the bed, propped up on his elbows, watching you with fascination like it was his favorite show.
“Seeing you naked will never get old,” he said easily. You caught his wide grin through the mirror.
“Even when I’m like this?” you laughed, tugging your joggers under your very full belly. You patted it dramatically. “I have a food baby.”
“Mm. Especially like that,” he replied, dragging the words out as he licked his lips for emphasis. In one smooth motion, he was up and behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. “You’re always beautiful to me.”
You couldn’t help but smile. Satoru had an uncanny ability to sense even the smallest flicker of insecurity, like he had radar for it.
His hands slid down your sides, warm and familiar, coming to rest just beneath your stomach.
“Hey!” you squirmed, but before you could protest any further—
“Seeing you like this makes me feel some kinda way, babe,” he murmured, swaying gently with you, his chin settling on your shoulder. “You’re so cute I could die.”
“Kinda makes me want to put a real baby in you,” he added softly against your ear, teasing and shameless.
Of course. Only Gojo would be turned on by your food baby.
“I don’t really feel sexy right now,” you admitted, leaning back into him. “My stomach hurts from eating too much.”
“You think they’d get my eyes?” he continued casually, as if you hadn’t spoken, his hands still roaming with lazy affection.
“I hope they get your hair,” he said, pressing a kiss to your neck. Smooch.
“And your nose.” Smooch.
“And your—”
“That’s enough,” you cut in, turning around in his arms to face him. “I can feel your boner on my ass.”
He didn’t even try to deny it. “I can’t help it,” he said with a shrug, that stupidly fond smile tugging at his lips. “I always want you—and so does he,” he added lightly, nodding toward the obvious tent in his pants.
You knew he was joking, exaggerating as he always did, but Gojo never missed a chance to reassure you.
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