a book nook of fanfics

Zuko was leaning back against the headboard with a breathless groan, leaving his lips as your fingers threaded through his messy black long hair, your fingers tugging at the strands gently. His attention never strayed from your pretty face, completely focusing on you and on the moment. You were straddling him, sinking down slowly onto his throbbing length with shaky breaths.

You were already on the verge of being overwhelmed, but Zuko's hands shot up from your thighs to your hips, halting you in your movements, causing a shudder to emit from your lips. "Zuko?" you whispered, blinking at him, confused.

"Don't move," he whispers into your ear. "Let me feel all of you." His words alone made your walls tighten around his length immensely, his head dropping to your neck, feeling his cock.

He tilted his head, but his cock twitching inside you made it really hard to focus much on what he was saying. "Fuck," he moans into your neck, almost bordering on a whimper, Zuko's arms circle around your body, one hand slides up your spine, pulling you flush against him until your chest presses to his. Zuko shakily breaths, "Stay still."

Your breath hitched, body trembling as his length pulsed inside you. "W-What? But-"

"Shh." He kissed the corner of your mouth slowly while holding you perfectly still. You don't think you could do this, you're already so overstimulated as it is. 

The stillness was maddening. His cock throbbed inside you with every heartbeat, the stretch so deep and constant it had your body trembling from the effort of holding still. Your nails dug into his shoulders. "Feels so good.... my pretty wife, missed you so much," Zuko murmurs, "just a little longer... promise."

You whined, trying to roll your hips, but his hand immediately pressed down on your waist, pinning you harder against him. "No," he said firmly, and the deep sound of his voice made your body heat up further. 

The minutes dragged, your body shivering from the overwhelming sensation of being filled and denied movement. Zuko kissed along your jaw. "You're shaking," he murmured, nipping lightly at your ear. "So needy."

You whimpered his name, and he finally pulled back enough to look at you, his eyes scanning every inch of your trembling body. "Hold out a little longer," he promised, hands gripping your hips tightly. "And then I'll let you fall apart as much as you want."

Your thighs trembled from holding yourself still, his cock throbbing inside you with every pulse of blood rushing through your veins. The ache was unbearable, and every breath made you whine softly into his chest.

"Zuko... I can't," you whispered with your voice cracking. "Please." You broke with a strained moan of his name, his cock deep inside you, clenching violently around him as your orgasm ripped through you, making your body shake in his lap. The wet sound of your release coating him only spurred him on, making his thrusts sharper.

"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, hips slamming into yours one last time as he spilled hot inside you, grip bruising on your hips. He buried his face in your neck, muffling a rough moan as his cock pulsed, filling you to the brim.

"shh," he hushes, his other hand splayed across your stomach and pushing down so you can feel the slight bulge of his cock in there, your eyes rolling back. "keep quiet, my love. wouldn't want everyone else to hear us."

synopsis: resting against your pregnant stomach, aang stays up late to your baby, much to your annoyance.

♡⸝⸝ content warningsﾉtags: fem!reader, dad!aang, fluff, domestic bliss, pregnancy, late night talking, kissing, established relationship

♡⸝⸝ author's note: i wanted to write something cute before i write smut and angst of aangie poo LMAOO. i hope u guys enjoy!! i'm slowly getting back into writing, so sorry if this isn't the best! </3

The silk sheets of your shared bed felt cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the radiating warmth of your swollen abdomen. You lay propped up against a mountain of plush pillows, your hands resting lightly over the high curve of your stomach where your first child was currently shifting and stretching against your ribs. The weight of your body felt immense after a long day of carrying this new life, every muscle aching for the undisturbed sleep that had become so elusive in these final weeks of your pregnancy.

Aang had absolutely no intention of letting you sleep just yet.

He was curled up tightly against your hip, his smooth, shaved head resting directly on the bare skin of your rounded belly, his face turned sideways so his cheek was pressed against your skin. His bright grey eyes were wide awake, crinkling at the corners with an enduring, childlike wonder that had only intensified the larger your bump grew. His calloused hands were wrapped completely around the sides of your waist, holding you with a gentle grip as if he were guarding the most precious treasure in all the nations. He was murmuring in a low, conspiratorial whisper that vibrated deeply through your skin.

( wc: 551, 18+, smut, bj, oral, m receiving, fluff at the end (?), i love aang sm it’s not even funny anymore )

18+. smut; throat fucking, mating press.

“Are you sure about this?” There’s a nervous look on Aang’s face as he stands over you. Yet, despite the nervousness and the hesitance that’s paired with it, his interest is evident by the fat glob of pre-cum that falls on the tip of your nose and trails a slow streak to your forehead before disappearing past your hairline.

“Yes, now stop asking.” You urge him forward by his strong thighs, your mouth falling open to take his flushed, leaking cock between your parted lips.

He groans, the sound deep and guttural as his hand instinctively reaches down to cradle the back of your neck. “You okay?”

Inch by inch you swallow his aching length, your tongue caressing the rigid velvet on the way down. Aang shudders when you gag, but doesn’t pull out. He knows you can take it, you were being so persistent earlier after all.

He hears nothing, but a satisfied hum as an answer, following your nose being buried between his heavy balls while his dick’s tip taps insistently at the back of your throat.

“C-can I move?” He asks, arousal thinning his tone, and he starts with shallow thrusts, wanting to test the limits from this new angle. It’s an angle he can see even more from, like the outline of his cock in your throat, down to the twin peaks atop the valley of your breasts, and the expanse of your torso that leads to the rushing river between your legs.

His free hand comes up to join the other at your neck, both finding leverage at the columns as he rocks forward. The wet squelch of you closing around him almost does him in, the warm cavern of your mouth sucking him down, the walls tightening like a constrictor trapping prey.

“Holy-“ He pants, forcing himself out of your slick mouth and quickly gripping the base of his throbbing shaft. Strings of saliva and precum stick to his cockhead, trying in vain to keep him tethered to your swollen lips. He can feel his stomach tighten, like he could blow his load any second, but if you ask, he’ll say he just wanted you to breathe for a bit.

You’re panting harshly, head getting fuzzy from all the blood pooling at the crown. A calloused thumb traces your puffy lips, splitting the seam to rest on an eager tongue before it’s snagged between two rows of teeth and nipped gently. Two pairs of eyes soften in tandem as you gaze at one another. Your face warms, and his cheeks flush the longer you look at each other. The intimacy of the moment makes you giddy enough for your tummy to swoop.

“You’re trying to kill me.” He leans down to kiss you, slow and filthy, chasing his own taste before straightening up, ready to feed his cock back inside your waiting mouth.

Your chuckle is raspy, a little wrecked, and even though he throbs a little, his heart also feels like it could jump out of his chest at the sound. Oh, it’s a sight to see this big man blush even as he’s slapping his cock on your pursed lips, then fitting it into the curl of your tongue as it eases into a smooth descent to the back of your throat. There you go gagging again, and making such a mess of him as you on him a little. He startles, about to pull away to let you breathe, to cough it out-something-but you don’t let him take a step, hands finding his thighs and nails digging into the skin to keep him rooted, as if the heated and determined glint in your eyes isn’t already doing enough to pin him in place.

Only you could still manage to look threatening upside down with his dick stuffed halfway down to your stomach.

So, he keeps going, fucking in and out of your throat the way you’ve been asking for it. Seeing how the shape of him bulges in your throat has him folding over you, desperate to reward you. The size of him shadows you like a canopy as his dexterous fingers find your twitching clit, it peeks from the hood as the digits slide down to spread your sticky folds, then further to circle the entrance of your dripping cunt.

Aang doesn’t even realize that he’s just shoving his cock even further until your throat closes, trying to force him out to keep you from actually choking on him. His balls tighten up from where they’re nestling your nose and he barely gets the warning out before he’s spilling his seed into your stomach. You slide down the bed to ease him out, making his ring and middle fingers slip out of your pussy with a lewd pop as you really try to catch your breath this time. The evidence of your arousal coats his wedding band, so he trails the cream-coated fingers all the way up to your face, and your jaw cracks as your tongue sticks out to lick it clean. He coos, thumbs dipping into the divots of your cheeks to ease the stiffness.

“Gods, you’re so good.” The kiss on your forehead is long and sweet. The tenderness of it settles between your ribcage like a bird on its perch.

You sit up to turn, and as soon as you do, his hands hook under your ankles, pulling you to the edge of the bed. They go to wrap around his narrow but strong waist, but he grabs your legs and rests them on his shoulders instead. With barely enough time to react, he’s leaning over you again, hands gripping the fat of your thighs and pressing his weight down as he slides home in wet and wanton cunt.

You scream his name and your voice cracks down the middle.

“Yeah?” he actually answers, nuzzling his nose with yours, and you whine as the action forces him deeper inside you. He draws his hips back, pulling out til just the tip is snug between your wet slit and his thumb snags on your clit again, pressing down and rubbing in dizzyingly slow circles as the girth of him is back between your spasming walls. You’re clenching around him already, squeezing the pulsing veins and only tightening like a knot that’s continuously being pulled taut. “You feel like a dream, always taking me so well, my sweet wife.”

You gush around him, more of your juices aiding the glide as you near the precipice, eager for him to push you over it and for him to come with you.

He shakes his head as if he can hear your thoughts. “Need you to cum, you spoiled me already, so good to me.” Your knees are pushed up higher, hips lifting off the bed as he fucks harder into you, strokes striking your sweet spot with a precision that leaves you starry-eyed and drooling.

You’re nearly there. He can feel it as the shiver runs through you and your body locks up like a city under siege. When you cum, your nails drag down and pierce, splitting the skin of his shoulders and leaving sanguine colored lines in its wake as you cover his cock with your cum and his face with lazy kisses.

"let me gooo, i want to make my coffee," you whined softly, the tone made it apparent that you couldn't hold a smile at the sight of your usual collected man being so clingy. provoking him further, you once more tried to release the grasp of his hand on your stomach. the man responded with a disapproving grunt, the vibration from his lips against your skin made you shiver.

"stay, please. i'll make it for you later," he pleaded, trailing lazy kisses along your shoulder blade in hope to get you stay in bed, going as far as bringing his leg over both of yours, practically keeping you in his embrace. you chuckled.

"but i want it now," you replied, yet despite those words you couldn't help but put your hand on his cheek, seeing how the blond nuzzled closer to it, chasing the contact like a cat basking under the attention.

"not yet," he murmured, doubling down by gently turning you over, bringing you closer as you rested your head on his chest. you caved under his relentless touch, both his arms folded snugly behind your back. nanami wore a satisfied smile, like he just achieved something great. "i need another hour of this. of you."

"didn't know i'll be held hostage in some mornings when i went into this marriage," you teased, the comfort of his warm hug made you abandon the scheme you never planned to follow through. your fingers made their way to draw random patterns on the navy shirt he was wearing.

he caught your digits, planting a soft kiss at the back of your hand, "and you promised to accept me as i am in your vow, so i'm afraid you'll have to put up with this for the rest of your life."

you laughed.

tags 18+ minors dni !! very self indulgent hehe … i’m so soft for him y’all don’t understand 🥹

his lips are cold at first. always cold, like he’s been pressing his mouth to the rim of a glass full of ice just to feel something. you’ve learned to expect it but it still makes you gasp every time, that first shock of chill against your warm mouth, and he loves it. you can feel him smile into the kiss, that infuriating curve of his lips that says got you.

he doesn’t rush. satoru gojo could move faster than light if he wanted to but he kisses you like the world outside doesn’t exist. his hands find your face first, always. long fingers spanning your jaw, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones in slow hypnotic circles. he tilts your head to the side and deepens the kiss, easing you into it, letting you feel every second of it. his bottom lip slots between yours and he just rests there for a moment, breathing you in.

then his tongue traces the seam of your lips, asking, always asking even though he knows the answer will be yes. you open for him and he hums into your mouth, pleased and low, the vibration traveling straight down your spine. he tastes like sugar and something sharper underneath, like the candy he definitely stole from your stash and the mint gum he chewed to cover it up. his tongue curls against yours lazy and thorough, exploring, and his teeth graze your bottom lip just hard enough to make your breath catch. he soothes it immediately with a soft sucking kiss that leaves your lip slick and tingling.

his mouth wanders. it’s a problem, actually, because he can’t stay in one place for long. he pulls back from your lips and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then the bow of your upper lip, then the tiny crease where your smile would be if you weren’t so breathless. he kisses the tip of your nose, your cupid’s bow, your cheek. by the time he’s finished mapping your face your eyes are closed and your lips are parted.

he kisses your closed eyelids, left then right, feather-light. his lips brush your lashes and you feel them flutter against his mouth. he exhales a laugh and the air ghosts warm over your skin.

then he’s at your jaw, trailing open-mouthed kisses down to your chin, then up the other side. he finds the spot just beneath your ear and latches on, sucking gently, not enough to leave a mark but enough to make your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. he kisses the shell of your ear, the delicate skin behind it, the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. he breathes there, nose pressed to your skin. “you’re so warm,” he says, “smell so good.”

he kisses your throat. your collarbones. the hollow at the base of your neck where he can feel your heartbeat rabbiting against his mouth. he stays there for a long moment, just feeling it, and when he pulls back his eyes are dark and half-lidded and his lips are pink and kiss bitten and wet.

he kisses you on the mouth again, harder this time, less controlled. his composure slips and his hands drop from your face to your waist, your hips, pulling you flush against him. he kisses you like he’s starving, like the taste of you is the only thing that keeps him human. his tongue slides against yours and his teeth click against yours because he’s smiling again, he’s always smiling, even now. especially now.

his hands roam. up your sides, down your back, fingers splaying wide like he’s trying to touch all of you at once. they settle on your lower back and he presses you closer, impossibly closer, and he’s so warm now, all that cold burned away by the heat between you. he kisses the corner of your mouth again, your chin, the tip of your nose. a quick peck to your forehead. your left cheek. your right cheek. back to your lips.

he pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, and you can feel his lashes brush your brow.

“hey.” he says, voice wrecked.

“hey.” you breathe back.

he kisses the bridge of your nose. “you’re my favorite.”

♯ a bit rushed bc i did it in a rush also ❤️☺️

Nanami had never considered himself a jealous man.

possessive, perhaps, in small ways. protective? certainly.

but jealousy? it was messy. the sort of thing that clouded judgement and made people act irrationally.

Nanami preferred facts.

and the fact was that you were free to spend time with anyone. the fact that your smile didn't belong to him. and the fact that he trusted you completely.

but why—why had he spent the last twenty minutes staring at his phone?

the photo on the screen was harmless for god's sake!

a group picture from a company dinner. you sat near the center, smiling oh so sweetly to the camera.

but the problem is there was a man sitting beside you.

nothing appropriate or suspicious. just a coworker. a coworker whose arm was slung casually over the back of your chair.

a coworker who seemed to appear in every photos your friend posted. a coworker whose name you had mentioned bunch of times this week without realizing it.

Nanami locked his phone and set it face down on the table.

he hated this feeling. Not because he distrusted you.

there was no reason for the knot tightening in his chest.

there is no logical explanation for why he suddenly found himself wondering whether you smiled that brightly around everyone. or whether you looked at everyone the way you looked at him.

the apartment door opened suddenly, snapping him out of his trance.

"Kento?" your voice drifted through the hallway.

you stepped into the living room, smiling when you saw him.

"There you are."

Nanami returned the smile automatically.

but as you sat beside him and started talking about your day, he found himself listening for one name. and when it finally appeared in the conversation? his jaw tightened.

your words faltered. "Kento?" you looked at him carefully.

for a moment, neither of you spoke.

then, quietly, you asked. "Is there something wrong?"

he met your gaze briefly before looking away.

the silenced stretched. not uncomfortable, just heavy. Nanami wasn't entirely sure how to answer.

you knew your husband too well to notice when something was off.

"Kento."

"Hm."

"You're doing that thing."

his brows furrowed slightly. "What thing?"

"The thing where you pretend nothing's bothering you."

you moved closer on the couch, turning toward him fully.

"Did something happen at work?"

"No."

"Did someone annoy you?"

"Not particularly."

"Are you tired?"

"Always."

your expression only softened.

your fingers reached for his hand without thinking. you interwined your fingers with his.

"C'mon, talk to me?"

you waited patiently, giving him space to speak.

Nanami hated that he was making this difficult.

eventually, he said, "Who is he?"

you blinked. "...who?"

"The coworker."

your eyes widened slightly. "Oh."

for several seconds, you said nothing.

then, "Are you jealous?"

Nanami closed his eyes briefly. "Perhaps," he sighed.

your expression softened even further.

you shifted closer until your shoulder rested against his.

"I found him annoying," you started. "He talks too much, he steals food, he's arrogant too."

the corner of Nanami's mouth twitched. you caught it immediately.

"There he is."

"I was here the entire time."

"No, you were somewhere in your own head."

you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.

"I don't smile because of him," you sighed. "I smile because i was having fun."

his gaze softened. "I know," he admitted.

"Then why are you suffering by yourself?"

a faint huff escaped him, not quite a laugh.

"Because," he pulled your joined hands closer. "I was hoping it would stop if i ignored it."

"Did it work?"

"No."

you laughed. "That was unfortunate."

he laughed along with you. "It was."

the knot in his chest began to loosen.

not because the jealousy had vanished. but because you were looking at him exactly the way you always had.

riding your boyfriend satoru for the first time (o^^o)

you're already halfway down when you realize you might have bitten off more than you can handle.

satoru's cock stretches you open inch by inch, and even with all the prep—his fingers, his mouth, the way he worked you open on the bed of his dorm room until you were dripping and begging—it's still a lot. he's big. you knew that from the way he'd felt against your thigh, from the way he'd groaned when you'd wrapped your hand around him earlier. knowing and feeling are two very different things.

"easy," he murmurs, and his voice is lower than usual, rougher. his hands are on your hips, thumbs pressing into the jut of bone there, but he's not guiding you. he's holding you steady. letting you set the pace. "easy, sweetheart. breathe for me."

you do. shaky inhale through your nose, slow exhale through parted lips. your thighs are trembling where they're bracketing his hips, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of him. he's propped up against the headboard, shirt long since discarded, hair a mess of white silk falling into his eyes.

he looks wrecked already, and you've barely started.

"that's it," he says, and there's a strain in his voice that wasn't there before, a tightness around the edges. "you're doing so good. just—take your time."

you sink lower. another inch. the sensation is overwhelming—full, hot, stretching you in a way that borders on too much. your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails leaving crescents in his skin. he hisses, but it's not from pain.

"fuck," he breathes, head falling back against the headboard. "fuck, you're tight."

you pause, breath catching. "is that bad?"

"no." he laughs, but it comes out strangled. "no, it's not bad. it's—" he grits his teeth, jaw working. "it's a lot. in a good way. keep going."

you push down further, and finally, finally, you're seated fully in his lap. his cock is buried to the hilt inside you, and you feel impossibly full, stretched around him, your body struggling to accommodate his size. you stay still for a moment, just breathing, just feeling.

₊ ݃ 　࿔ྀིྀ　 ꒰ 𓈒 NANAMI KENTO might be the pettiest man alive . . . ⎯⎯　 ꒰ 1.3k ! ꒱ 　💭

contrary to outsider belief, your marriage to nanami worked remarkably well. too well.

a shocking revelation, considering you were “ill-tempered” while nanami had the patience of a saint, allegedly . . . .

the truth of the matter was that beneath the all the composure, politeness, and that expensive wristwatch kento always wore on his wrist, your husband unfortunately was just as much of a brat as you were.

if not, worse.

the two of you held grudges over the stupidest things imaginable: once, nanami corrected your pronunciation of “espresso” during breakfast. so? you didn’t kiss him goodbye before work for three whole days.

in retaliation, your coffee that he would make you each morning mysteriously happened to arrive without the three ounces of sugar you so adamantly required to — “balance out the armpit taste.”

petty. childish. ridiculous.

yet somehow, these cold wars became the foundation of a deeply functional marriage.

♯ really need to step up my writing skills.. please never get bored of my domestic choso

Dating Choso for a few months had been surprisingly normal.

At first, he was quiet, respectful of your space, and very careful with every touch.

Honestly, you thought he'd always be that shy. How can you not? He'd hold your hands gently, sitting closely but not too close, and ask before kissing you.

Then somewhere along the way, something changed.

Maybe he was getting comfortable. But whatever the reason was, your boyfriend slowly transformed into the clingiest man alive.

"Choso."

"Hm?"

You turned your head to look at him, letting out a small laugh. "Why are you standing there?"

He blinked once. "I missed you."

You tilted your head. "I was gone for five minutes, to the bathroom."

"It felt longer," He frowned slightly.

You laughed under your breath, turning back toward the kitchen counter. "You're getting clingy."

Quiet footsteps approached behind you.

Then, you felt his warmth behind you. His arms slipped around your waist with his chin settled on top of your head, like this had become a second nature to him.

"Choso," you sighed fondly. "I'm trying to cook here."

"You can still do that," he murmured.

"Not when my boyfriend is attached to me."

"I like being close to you."

Over time, he grew clingier in small ways.

Hand resting on your thigh whenever you sat next to each other, quietly following you around the apartment, pulling you back into bed whenever you tried getting up.

Today was no different.

You had almost escaped, almost.

Your foot was already on the floor, ready to start the day.

Then the mattress dipped behind you. A sleepy groan echoed through the room before something warm enveloped your waist.

"Mm, stay," he grumbles.

You laughed quietly. "Good morning to you too," you whispered.

You glanced over your shoulder to look at him. His hair was a mess, eyes barely open as he clung to you.

"Too early," he mumbled as he buried his face deeper against your back.

"It's almost ten."

"So?"

"So.. it's not early?" You said, rubbing his hair.

His arms tightened slightly around your waist as you tried to move again.

"Just stay."

You sighed. "I need to get up."

Suddenly, you were pulled backward onto the mattress with a surprised laugh. Choso immediately curled around you again.

"Hey!" You tried to push him, playfully, but he won't move.

You turned slightly in his hold, only to find him already staring at you with those sleepy eyes.

"Let's make a deal, Cho," you said suddenly.

Choso blinked once before propping his head with his hand.

"What deal?"

"You let me get out of bed," you added. "And when i come back, we can cuddle all day. Maybe we can have lunch in bed?"

Choso went quiet immediately.

Slowly, his grip on your waits loosened.

"Lunch in bed?"

"Mhm."

"Together, right?"

You laughed softly. "Of course."

Choso hummed thoughtfully, still unconvinced. But after a moment, he finally let his arm fall away from your waist.

"Fine," he mumbled. "But make it quick."

You smiled triumphantly, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Deal."

The second you pulled away, Choso caught your wrist again.

"Can you bring me with you?"

You tilted your head. "To.. where?"

"Wherever you're going."

"Wherever i'm going," you repeated, trying not to smile. "Even when i'm brushing my teeth?"

"Mhm," Choso nodded against the pillow. "I'll wait."

You stared at him for a moment before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

"You're actually attached to me now."

Choso leaned in to the kiss, looking completely unashamed. "I don't see a problem."

your best friend of two years had begged you repeatedly to tag along with him to his personal hell on earth. the dental clinic. the four back teeth in his mouth have been bothering him for some time now, leaving no option but to get them removed.

“i can’t do this, hold my hand.” satoru’s hand roughly grabbed onto yours. you tried not to get flustered by the action, but you could feel warmth erupting on your cheeks. his leg kept bouncing nervously, waiting for his name to be called.

“toru, you’re twenty years old.” you reminded.

“i’m allowed to be scared at twenty!” he whisper shouted. his clammy hand didn’t let go of yours even for a second. when his name got called out, he refused to let go. “please, come with me. come with me.”

fortunately, he finally went in without you. with a final pleading look, satoru got taken away. safe to say, he had every right to be terrified. the white haired boy walked out with his cheeks all puffed up like a chipmunks, eyes teary, and walking like a drunk man.

“he was very difficult to drug.” the doctor said, leading satoru by the shoulders over to you. he whined out your name, reaching out to hug you. “help.. hurts..”

you stifled in a laugh, enjoying the sudden behavior. after thanking the doctor and a very difficult time having to push satoru into your car, you made your way over to your apartment . there was no way you were letting him be unattended until tomorrow.

the radio played his favorite music, making him sing along in the backseat. very off key, mind you. “hey.. hey, where we going?” his voice was very funny sounding. “to my place.” you stared at him through the rearview mirror.

“ooh.. and what are we gonna do at your place?”

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a small smile. “i’m gonna take care of you.”

“whole house happy.” he slurred out before flopping back into his seat. upon arrival, he was talking nonsense. something about digimon and his econ class, you couldn’t tell. “oh no..” the bloody gauze fell from his mouth, landing on the floor. “my tongue!” his eyes widened in horror.

“it’s not your tongue, silly.” too late, he was already crying. his hand tapped against his cheek in attempt to feel his still attached tongue. “no.. my tongue!” he tried bending down to grab it.

in total, it took ten minutes to get him inside the house and to convince him that his tongue was very much intact. “open up..” you gently placed in a new gauze, closing his jaw so he could start biting down on it. “i’ll be back.” doctors recommended to place ice packs on both cheeks to numb down the pain and luckily, you had two bags of peas sitting in your freezer.

“don’t leave me.” his strong arms wrapped around your torso, pushing his face in between your chest. “toru!” you gasped, trying to push him away.

“i love you so much.. do you know that? bet you don’t.. don’t even have a clue.” satoru mumbled out, leaning up to place a sloppy kiss on your cheek, spreading his nasty blood all over you before you stopped him. “babay...” he pouted, watching as you placed your hands on his chest, preventing him from getting closer. “satoru calm down, you’re not yourself right now. you’ve got no idea what you’re saying.”

“i do.” he groaned. “love youuuu.. sooo much. do you love me too?”

you had spent the past two years believing the crush was one sided, that there would be no way he could ever feel the same way about you too. this wasn’t the way you’d want to confess, so you’ll save it for another day. “i’ll tell you when you’re thinking straight.”

“i’m straight.”

“i’m sure.”

very sorry for the inaccurate representation of getting your wisdom teeth removed. i haven’t gotten mine out yet. i’m scared.

one small problem. 

you were ovulating. and never in your year of knowing gojo were you this down bad for him. yes you were aware he was handsome. only thing setting him back from getting any popularity with the girls was how much of an absolute geek he is. 

he could name you every constellation, every digimon character, and the whole script for every Star Wars movie. you personally found it attractive but you would never try anything with him. he was your best friend after all. 

so why is him laying there in his stupid collared shirt on the floor stuffing his face with chips making you so fucking horny?

"anyways, I kept begging and begging but that little kid just didn't want to let go of it! it was the last limited edition biyomon stuffed animal in that store!" he ranted. knowing your eyes should be focused on his face, they traveled down to his biceps peeking from his sleeves. 

you forgot he was jacked up. the first time you found out he went to the gym you were baffled thinking that he only had time for formulas and.. whatever he's talking about right now. 

"are you even listening to me?" his voice was muffled due to the amount of food he had inside, making him look like a hamster stuffing his cheeks with seeds. 

his glasses were sliding down his nose a bit and his hair was so perfectly messed up that under the faux universe lit up by the projector set on his desk only made him look even more ethereal. 

"..um yeah, sorry, continue." you mumbled. 

he looked at you weirdly, raising a brow before going back to rambling. but you seriously couldn't handle it anymore. your pussy was pulsing, literally saying his name in morse code and you were sure that your panties were drenched by now. 

gojo gasped at the weight of you. you shifted on his lap, tugging at his shirt quietly asking to remove it. 

to your surprise, he obliged, sitting up to allow you pull up his shirt. the fabric slid of his broad shoulders to fully reveal his toned abs, delicious muscles, and his happy trail. 

his face was serious, watching in silence. you were practically drooling at the sight of him, hands gently pushing him back to lay on the ground. 

gojo's jaw clenched. his hands finally placed themselves on your waist. his grip was strong, staring up at you in awe. soon enough, his breaths matched yours, coming out in heavy pants as you began to grind on his clothed tent. the outline of his cock stained against his pants. 

"take my pants off." he ordered. 

you were surprised but you didn't need to be told twice. your hands fumbled with his zipper, sliding his pants off along with his boxers. 

oh wow. he's huge. 

like, really, really huge. 

his tip was leaking pre, a nice shade of pink. your eyes trailed down. he was unshaven but honestly, you found that hot. 

a small whimper left your lips when gojo's hand shifted to squeeze one of your breasts, forcing you to now lay down, switching your positions. 

"been dreaming of this since forever.." his voice was rough and full of arousal. 

and you internally thanked your ovulation, because right now you were getting fucked like you never have before, making you feel like a virgin all over again. 

his thrusts were fast and deep, reaching into places you never knew were possible to touch. "mm fuck yes fuck yes yes yes.." he moaned into your ear, moving to kiss your neck, nipping at it hard enough to leave hickeys behind. 

your back was arching, arms wrapped around his waist. 

"oh my god!" you could feel yourself tear up. all you could process was how good his cock felt and the obscene sounds coming from you two. 

"y'know how many times i've jerked my fucking cock to you? you kept torturing me with those pretty skirts and and nah.." his words trailed off after feeling you reach your orgasm, squeezing hard enough to cut off any circulation on his dick. 

you panted, body feeling numb. your hands fell off his back thinking you were done. 

gojo kept pounding into you, even faster than before if even possible. "not done pretty, I haven't came inside you yet." and based from how he sounded, you were far, far from done. 

extra : 

"I was hoping to ask you out on a date first, y'know before we even fucked, so I'll ask you now." he was leaning on his elbow, staring down at you as he played with a strand of your hair. "that okay?"

taking satoru's dick for the first time in theory and in practice are two very different extremes. sure you'd felt him from grinding, from holding the weight of him in your palm under the sheets while you two were supposed to be 'watching a movie'. it felt doable for the most part—taking him.

you've heeded all his thinly veiled warnings long enough and tonight of all nights wasn't one where you two could exactly stop at just heavy petting. you'd even laughed at it beforehand, assured him that you could take him for the millionth time.

if you could slap your past self, you would. because now you're barely 2 minutes into him being inside of you. back spread on soft sheets, practically folded in half under satoru. legs slung over his shoulders, panting, practically vibrating from the effort of trying to get used to the sheer size of him.

"fuck—you gotta stop—" his fingers press harder into the undersides of your thighs where he has you held, hips rocking incrementally to get you adjusted to what he's given already. not even halfway in and you're already all noisy. "breathe for me, pretty? so I can give you the rest."

“t-the rest? ” you gasp, voice going embarrassingly high. it feels like he's been pushing in for ages now and now he's telling you that there's more? “that’s not all of it? are you sure?"

"i'm sure, trust me. just a little more." a bit more than a little, but you'd cross that bridge eventually. he presses a kiss to your knee—soft, lingering like he’s trying to ground both you and himself. "you said you could take it."

"i say a lot of things when I'm horny. you know—oh fuck—that!" you snap, voice breaking on the last word. "you're too big. this is all your fault, satoru."

"my fault?" he manages a huff despite the strain in his voice, brows knitted like he's the one struggling here. to be fair, he sort of is. "you said, and I quote—" his hips ease forward by an infinitesimal amount, just enough to have the bulb of him swabbing against your soft insides. it's enough for your jaw to go slack, toes curling near his ears. "—'please just fuck me already'. and to 'stop treating you like glass'." so here he is, not treating you like glass. not holding out on you. large hands press your thighs and knees closer to your chest, his body angled downward to drive into you with short, gentle thrusts.

"I don't even sound like that." you're clawing blindly at the bedding, airy sounds punching out of you like he's owed them.

"mhm. just breathe." he murmurs, voice rumbling low against your skin as he nudges deeper with the next roll of his hips—a slow, steady push, feeding you yet another inch. one hand leaves your thighs to slide up to your stomach, pressing in like he's trying to feel for himself there. "yeah...that's it, let me in.." the same hand settles just above where you're taking him to thumb at your arousal slick clit, your own darting to out the grab at his wrist. to no avail of course, since his thumb just keeps on moving in circle after circle.

“tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he whispers, hips tilting just a little deeper. new slick from his teasing helps, sliding deeper with ease. “that's right...all the way. you're doing so well."

it's soft, so sweet and encouraging that you're reaching a hand out to bring him closer to you by the back of his neck. "m'good, 'toru. you're fine."

you can't help but wonder how much more he has left to give, what kind of monstrous beast he's been hiding under his briefs. curiosity gets the better of you, eyes dropping to where you've yet to fully connect.

and boy, do you regret it almost instantly.

it's near obscene. inches of him glistening and buried, folds parted against his girth. even with how long he's been easing in (or how long it feels at least), there's still a gap. his gaze follows yours, nosing gently at your ankle, hand squeezing your thigh. "you okay?"

the glisten of his flesh, the taut flex of his abdomen like he's holding back...no, you're not okay in the slightest.

you can feel your core flutter involuntarily at the sight and god, he feels it too.

“oh fuck,” satoru's voice breaks, forehead tipping down to rest against your forehead. “baby, please don’t do that. i'll...this really won't last long.”

"oops, sorry. sorry."

the bits of soft pink that aren't inside inch in-in-in with every second that passing. it's barely anything left to give, yet, he's being so careful. too careful."

"holy fuck, just do—shit!"

you're arching clean off the bed with the way he suddenly, finally hilts himself inside. bare behind flush to his hips, groomed hairs at his base grazing against your skin.

he’s silent for a moment, breathing slow, forehead still dampened and pressed down against yours. "..okay, I have bad news."

you're a little drunk on him, just lucid enough to manage a small hm, nails scraping through the damp hair at his nape.

"there's...there's a high chance that I'll cum if I move."

even in your state, laughter breaks out of you, the heavy man above you flushing a soft pink from the highs of his cheeks up to his ears. murmuring something about it 'not being that funny' and him 'embarrassing himself here'.

"stay still then." you finally breathe when your laughter dies down just enough, smile all gentle up at him, lips brushing against the sharp point of his nose. "we'll just stay like this all night." the pain had properly eased into a dull, barely there ache at that point—more pleasure than any other feeling. with how he'd taken his time, it'd been almost inevitable.

"can't just not move," he replies through gritted teeth, hips shifting just a hair. enough for you both to feel the heavy drag, the way your walls clench instinctively. "god—I can't not move when you feel like that."

it's endearing in a way, very much flattering. your grin only widens, head lifting to angle your mouth against his with a firm kiss. "i'm close too if that makes you feel any better."

words meant to help only make him whine, throbbing inside you, hips beginning to rock slowly. "you are?"

"mhmm. very close." you let out a strangled sound when his hips angle just right and it's enough for him to give up on pacing himself. his weight crushes your thighs against your chest, pace building. "so just keep moving. please."

the sounds leaving you are a mix of 'ahh's' and calls of his name, all broken, all sending his hips into you a little faster. they stutter as he fucks into you with less and less finesse, 0 rhyme or rhythm just the need to see you cum for him like this. hips slapping against the back of your thighs, paced breaths dually filling the room. "you feel so good. taking me so well." and when his thumb finds your clit again with those same, easy circles? you're a goner. "gonna cum--gonna- oh my god, keep doing that—" he finds that spot from before over and over again like there's a target stuck to it, leaky tip wedging itself right where you need it, pleasure mounting far too quickly. you're crying out at this point, hips angling up into his thrusts. so full it hurts in that perfect, dizzying way.

“fuck, you're gonna make me—”

“shut up and cum,” you choke out. “do it inside. pleaseplease—”

his entire body jolts, pace faltering. you feel him twitch deep inside you before it hits, his hips driving in and out hard—once, twice, and then he’s moaning into your mouth as he spills. he drags you down with him, pressure in your abdomen bursting, unfurling outwards with your release—his name still falling from your lips. helpless sounds that only spur the continued movement of his hips to draw out the pleasure.

you're both shaking, sucking in breaths of air greedily for moments after that. you're still folded like a pretzel, still crushed against his weight. "...that one doesn't count."

"agreed."

the kitchen smells like garlic, butter, and whatever expensive seasoning satoru bought last week because apparently “regular salt is boring.”

you’re standing at the stove stirring dinner while quietly regretting ever teaching your husband how to cook.

not because he’s bad at it, unfortunately, he’s annoyingly good.

but because now he treats the kitchen like his personal playground whenever you’re inside it.

“whatcha makin’?” satoru asks for the fourth time in ten minutes.

you don’t even turn around. “food.”

“woaah,” he gasps dramatically behind you. “really?”

you sigh. already, you can feel him hovering nearby.

he never just stands normally either. no. he leans against counters dramatically, stretches himself over your shoulder unnecessarily, or wraps himself around you like an oversized cat who thinks personal space is offensive.

today seems to be one of those days.

before you can react, long arms slide around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his chest.

“satoru,” you warn immediately.

“what?” he hums innocently against your shoulder.

“i’m cooking.”

“and?”

“and you’re attached to me.”

“exactly.”

you close your eyes briefly. this man.

“go sit down.”

“don’t wanna.”

of course he doesn’t.

he rests his chin on your shoulder now, white hair tickling your cheek while he watches the pan like he’s genuinely interested in what you’re doing.

“…yer stirring too aggressively.”

you stop mid-motion, then slowly turn your head toward him.

“i’m sorry?”

“mhm,” he nods seriously. “the vegetables are scared.”

you stare at him flatly, he grins immediately.

there it is.

that stupid grin that says he knows exactly how annoying he’s being.

“you’re unbearable,” you mutter, turning back toward the stove.

“but ya love me.”

and you can’t even argue against it. because you do, way too much honestly.

you try focusing again, ignoring the way his fingers lazily tap against your stomach while he sways both of you side to side slightly.

for exactly twelve seconds.

then, 

“baby.”

you sigh. “what.”

“kiss.”

“i’m cooking.”

“multitask.”

you snort despite yourself. instantly, he notices.

“there’s the laugh i wanted,” he says proudly.

you roll your eyes. “you’re acting like a child.”

“yeah, but i’m your child.”

“that is absolutely not romantic.”

“worked though.”

before you can respond, he suddenly steals the spoon from your hand.

“satoru-”

he takes a dramatic taste directly from it, humming thoughtfully like he’s judging a five-star restaurant.

“…needs more love.”

you blink.

“love?”

“mhm.”

“that’s not an ingredient.”

“sure it is.” he points the spoon toward you accusingly. “yer cooking while annoyed at me. the food can tell.”

you laugh again, quieter this time.

he’s impossible.

and somehow fully aware that making you laugh is exactly how he gets away with everything.

he beams the second he hears it, immediately tightening his arms around you.

“there it is.”

“you’re insane.”

“and yet ya married me anyway.”

fair.

you shake your head, reaching for the spoon again, but instead of giving it back immediately, he lifts it higher out of reach.

“satoru.”

“say please.”

you narrow your eyes. “i’m going to hit you with this pan.”

“violent. scary. terrifying even.”

“…satoru.”

he grins,  then finally hands it back only to immediately steal a kiss from your cheek while you’re distracted.

you let out an annoyed sound, but he just laughs softly against your skin.

“worth it.”

you swear he gets clingier the longer you’re married. not less.

because now he follows you everywhere around the apartment like he physically cannot handle being more than three feet away from you.

and the worst part?

you’re used to it now.

used to the random kisses, the constant touching and the dramatic whining whenever you don’t give him attention immediately.

“baby,” he says again suddenly.

you point the spoon toward him threateningly. “if you ask for another kiss while i’m holding hot oil, i’m divorcing you.”

he gasps loudly.

“wow. so this is what our marriage has become?”

“you caused this.”

“false,” he says immediately. “i’m adorable.”

you finally turn toward him fully, raising a brow.

“…adorable.”

“mhm.”

“…not annoying?”

“both can exist.”

you hate that he’s right.

satoru notices your expression immediately and lights up like he’s won something.

“you think i’m cute.”

“i think you should leave my kitchen.”

instead of listening, he pulls you closer again, large hands settling against your hips this time.

then, without warning-

he buries his face into your neck dramatically.

“missed you today,” he mumbles.

your expression softens instantly.

ah.

there it is, underneath all the teasing, he just wanted attention.

you sigh quietly, setting the spoon down before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

immediately, he melts against you, completely.

“you saw me this morning,” you murmur.

“too long ago.”

“…you’re needy.”

“only for you.”

his voice is quieter now, warmer.

and suddenly the teasing husband act slips just enough for you to see the softer part underneath it.

the real part.

you smile despite yourself, scratching lightly against his scalp.

“okay,” you whisper. “you can stay.”

he lifts his head immediately, grinning like he just won the lottery.

“sick. what’re we making?”

a/n : first time writing for gojo 👀👀 yall is this mic on 👀👀. tysm for reading and other than that theres nothing more to add !!

𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫, 2026. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐢.

suguru is obsessed with aftercare...and you apparently

There’s a soft rock song playing in the background when Suguru finally finishes inside you, his hair sticking to his sweat slicked forehead and his eyes looking at you with that soft gentle quality he only reserves for you. 

He swipes his thumb over your cheek as your eyes flutter open, allowing for the last wave of post-orgasmic bliss to wash over you. 

“Hey gorgeous,” Suguru whispers softly, slowly making his way out of you and peppering kisses along your jaw, neck, and chest. 

“Hey loser,” You reply back, smiling up at him as your eyes drift close again. 

Suguru slowly gets up, making you groan as you feel the loss of his weight and his warmth. “Come on, you should shower,” He says, lifting you up with his strong arms and carrying you to the bathroom. 

He strokes at your hair and allows his hands to roam all of you, as if he’s trying to remember you through engraving your body on his fingertips. 

You push at him delicately, creating distance as you stretch out your limbs languidly. 

“I have to shower,” You say faintly, your voice hoarse and your throat a little sore. Suguru closes the distance once again, kissing your lips with fleeting warmth and slowly trailing his hands all across your body again. 

“I don’t see why I have to go for that,” He mumbles in between kisses, alternating from kissing your lips, to your earlobes, to your neck, and to your jaw. 

“I have to shower,” You reiterate, feeling a soft giggle bubble in your throat as you feel his touch hovering over somewhere ticklish. 

“Exactly, let’s go,” Suguru says, dropping his hands to yours and leading you towards the bathtub. 

“I don’t remember showering being a group activity,” You chuckle as you see Suguru pout. 

He shakes his head, his long raven hair falling perfectly over his shoulders and accentuating his form as if giving him an outline. “It is now,” He replies defiantly. 

You shake your head and give him a look that has no heat in it whatsoever—only love, a quiet bubbling love that is subtle but definitely there. “Well you can find someone else to shower with because it won’t be me.” 

Shaking him off of you, you make your way to the shower, stepping in and you’re about to turn on the water before you feel someone wrap their strong arms around your waist. 

Suguru pulls you into a deep kiss, a one that is not messy but slow. It’s slow and it’s purposeful. A love letter laced in tongue. 

He gives you a soft laugh when he hears you moan softly into his lips, pulling back to brush hairs from your face and tuck it behind your ears, “It wouldn’t be the same,” He says finally after looking at you for ages. Stroking at your cheek and holding your jaw. 

“What?” 

“It’d have to be you, it’ll always be you baby.” 

You look at him incredulously, your heart beating a mile a minute before you watch him turn away and walk out of the bathroom, leaving you to shower like you asked. 

You can’t help but miss the way his arms slotted around you perfectly, and the way his breath felt on your skin as he poured out his sentiments. 

When you finish, you see Suguru on the bed, hair wet and wearing a big band tee and long pajama pants, smoking a cigarette while looking out the window. 

You climb on the bed and slot yourself right in between his legs like you belong there—and part of you thinks that in more ways than one, you do belong there. 

He reaches up at your face and cups it in his hands, pulling you down to kiss him. Soft, sweet, and deep like everything is with him. 

He palms at your hair, and kisses you like he means it—like he really wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you. 

When you pull back you give him a smile, your voice dipped in honey and totally saccharine, “You smell like cigarettes.” 

He laughs, “You know you love it.”