Tying up loose ends with your ex boyfriend Toji ends up in a threesome with your new boyfriend Choso?!
ಇ.content & warnings: porn with no plot :: threesome activity :: some toji x choso action :: older toji :: sub cho :: dominant reader & toji :: oral m. rec :: p in v :: dp :: both in the v :: at the same damn time :: c-pied :: kissing ::
ಇ.author's note: i have a few more drabbles with this paring - so yes more to cum in the future!
The apartment door barely clicked shut before the air thickened, heavy with the kind of tension that made your pulse stutter and your thighs press together on instinct.
Toji Fushiguro stood in your living room like he still owned the place, broad shoulders filling out that worn black shirt, scarred lips curled in that same cocky smirk you’d tried so hard to forget.
Months since you’d walked out on him, and yet here he was, invited in under the flimsiest excuse after he’d spotted you and Choso at that dimly lit bar earlier tonight. Now Choso lingered just behind you, quiet as always, dark eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of wariness and something softer, something that still made your stomach flip.
Toji didn’t waste time. His large hand caught your wrist, tugging you forward until your chest bumped his. “Missed this pretty little body,” he rumbled, voice low and mean, the way it always got when he wanted something. His other palm slid down your side, fingers digging into your hip hard enough to bruise, yanking your shirt up without asking. Choso stepped closer too, hesitant at first, but when you didn’t pull away his hands joined in, gentler but just as eager, peeling the fabric over your head until cool air kissed your bare skin.
Clothes came off in a messy rush. Toji ripped your bra down your arms with a grunt, tossing it aside like it offended him, while Choso’s fingers worked your jeans open, pushing them down your legs along with your panties in one careful tug. You were naked between them in seconds, skin prickling under their stares.
Toji’s gaze dragged over you slow and possessive, grumpy old bastard that he was, muttering, “Still lookin’ like you were made for me, huh?” Choso said nothing, just pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his long hair brushing your cheek as his hands roamed your waist.
They walked you backward through the hallway, Toji’s bulk guiding the way with that dominant swagger he never lost, one arm hooked around your middle while Choso followed close on your other side.
The bedroom door swung open and they pushed you inside, the backs of your knees hitting the mattress before you even realized. Toji shoved you down onto the edge of the bed, standing tall over you, already palming the thick bulge straining his pants. “On your knees, sweetheart. Been thinkin’ about that mouth wrapin’ around me all night.”
You sank down obediently, the carpet soft under your knees, and tilted your head up at him with a sweet little smile that made his green eyes narrow. “Choso,” you called softly, patting the spot beside you. “Come here, baby.”
Toji’s brows shot up. “Wait, what the fuck? You ain’t callin’ him over to suck my cock or watch like some this is some goddamn show. This ain’t—”
“Shut up, Toji,” you cut in, voice calm but firm, the same tone you used when he used to push too far back when he was yours. He actually paused, jaw ticking, that scowl deepening, but he didn’t stop you.
Choso knelt beside you without hesitation, cheeks faintly pink under the dim lamp light, his dark eyes flicking up to yours for approval. You turned to him first, cupping his face and pulling him into a slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding lazy and wet while your hand drifted down to palm Toji’s cock through his unzipped pants.
You freed him, thick and heavy and already leaking at the tip, stroking him firm and steady as you made sure Toji watched every second of the kiss— the way Choso melted into it, soft little hum vibrating against your lips.
When you finally broke the kiss, a string of spit connecting you both for a moment, you smiled at Choso and murmured, “Be a good boy for me. Suck him.”
Toji barked a laugh, rough and disbelieving. “Fuck no. You serious? He ain’t—”
You shot him a look. “I said shut up and let him.”
Choso was shy about it at first, hesitating as he leaned in, but the second his pretty mouth wrapped around the head of Toji’s cock, the older man’s hips jerked and a low, shocked groan tore from his throat. “Oh my fuck…” Toji’s hand came down to tangle in Choso’s long hair, not guiding yet, just holding on as that warm, wet heat enveloped him.
Choso’s mouth was perfect— soft lips stretching around the girth, tongue swirling, lazy circles over the swollen head, lapping at the precum like he was savouring it. He took more, cheeks hollowing as he bobbed slowly, one hand braced on Toji’s thick thigh while the other came up to gently roll and tug at his heavy balls.
You watched with a satisfied little smile, still kneeling right there beside him, your hand resting on Choso’s back in quiet praise. “That’s it, good boy,” you cooed softly, voice dripping honey. “Just like that. Use your tongue more on the head, baby— he likes that.”
Toji’s head fell back for a second, a guttural curse spilling out as Choso obeyed instantly, licking broad stripes up the underside before sucking the tip back into that slick heat, eyes fluttering half-closed like he was lost in it. The contrast hit Toji hard— the way Choso moved so obediently, no backtalk, no attitude, just pure eager submission. He looked almost like a well-trained pet, kneeling there pretty and focused, long hair spilling over his shoulders while he worked Toji’s cock deeper into his throat with wet, obscene sounds.
“Fuck, ma,” Toji grunted, voice rougher now, hips twitching as he stared down at the scene. His free hand reached out to grip your chin, tilting your face up so he could see your smile. “You got him well trained like a dog. This the kinda shit you’re into now? Lettin’ your new boytoy slobber all over your ex’s dick just ‘cause you say so?”
You leaned into his touch, still smiling, eyes sparkling with that quiet triumph. “Yeah,” you said simply, voice soft and warm as you stroked Choso’s hair. “Choso listens. He’s good for me. Never argued or made everything a fight… unlike someone.”
Toji’s laugh came out breathless, a mix of annoyance and reluctant heat, his cock twitching hard between Choso’s lips as the younger man hollowed his cheeks again, taking him even deeper with a soft, muffled moan.
Choso’s tongue pressed flat against the vein running underneath, swirling and teasing, while his fingers continued their gentle massage on Toji’s balls, coaxing more precum to leak onto his tongue.
Toji’s grip tightened in Choso’s dark hair, but he didn’t force the pace— couldn’t, not when it felt this fucking good, that shy obedience wrapping around him tighter than any attitude ever had.
You stayed right there, naked and kneeling between them, one hand on Choso’s thigh for balance and the other occasionally reaching up to trace Toji’s abs, feeling the way his muscles jumped under your touch.
The bedroom filled with the wet sounds of Choso’s mouth, Toji’s low grunts, and your quiet praises whispered like secrets. “Good boy, Choso… swallow around him, just like that. See how much he likes it when you’re sweet for him?”
Choso hummed in response, the vibration making Toji hiss through his teeth, green eyes narrowing down at you with that familiar mean edge softened by raw pleasure. “You’re enjoyin’ this way too much, brat,” he muttered, but there was no real bite left in it— not when his cock was buried in that perfect, warm mouth and you were watching him unravel with that knowing little smile.
Toji’s hips twitched again, thicker veins pulsing against Choso’s tongue as the younger man kept working him slow and deep, cheeks hollowed, lashes fluttering like he was lost in the taste.
That wet heat dragged along every inch, tongue pressing flat and swirling lazy circles around the swollen head before sliding back down until the tip nudged the back of Choso’s throat.
Choso didn’t gag, didn’t pull away— just swallowed around him with a soft, obedient little sound that had Toji’s abs tightening, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
The older man’s hand stayed tangled in all that dark hair, fingers flexing like he wanted to fist it tight and fuck into that pretty mouth until tears spilled down Choso’s cheeks, but he held back, jaw clenched, breathing rough through his nose. Cocky bastard that he was, even he could feel how perfectly Choso was sucking him off, all shy devotion and slick warmth that made his balls draw up tighter with every pass.
You stayed kneeling right beside them, naked skin flushed warm, smiling that soft, satisfied smile while your hand rested on Choso’s thigh, thumb stroking gentle circles of praise. The sight of Toji trying so hard to keep control, hips barely rocking forward instead of slamming deep, sent a sweet thrill curling low in your belly.
Choso’s mouth made the filthiest sounds— wet slurps and quiet gulps, saliva already dripping down his chin and coating Toji’s heavy length in shiny streaks.
Toji’s gaze finally snapped to you, green eyes dark and hungry, his free hand shot out fast, fingers threading rough through your hair and yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look up at him.
The pull stung just enough to make you gasp, lips parting on a soft breath. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he growled, voice gravel-rough and mean. “You’re smilin’ like you won somethin’. Wet those pretty lips for me.”
He pulled out of Choso’s mouth with a wet pop, the thick head glistening, strings of saliva and precum webbing between Choso’s swollen lips and Toji’s cock like glistening threads that stretched and broke as he moved. Choso stayed kneeling there, breathing hard, lips shiny and parted, a faint blush high on his cheeks as he looked at you both with those dark, obedient eyes.
You swallowed once, throat bobbing, and Toji’s smirk sharpened, cock twitching in the cool air. “Come on, you little brat,” he said, low and taunting, tugging your hair again to tilt your face exactly where he wanted it. “Put that evil little mouth to work. Been watchin’ you direct your pet like a fuckin’ conductor— now show me what that smart mouth can really do.”
Your smile never faded, only curved wider as you leaned in, tongue darting out to trace the messy trail of spit and precum still clinging to him. Choso watched quietly from beside you, one hand resting lightly on your knee like he was waiting for whatever you’d tell him next. Toji’s grip in your hair stayed firm, guiding you closer until your lips brushed the slick head, the salty taste blooming across your tongue as you opened for him.
The bedroom air felt thicker now, heavy with the scent of skin and want, the three of you tangled in that messy heat where Toji’s dominance clashed against Choso’s sweet obedience and your quiet control. You took him in slow at first, lips stretching around his girth, tongue swirling just like you’d told Choso to do, while Toji’s low groan filled the room and his fingers tightened in your hair, hips finally giving one shallow thrust forward.
A low sound slipped from your throat as Toji pulled free and slapped his thick, spit-slick cock against your parted lips, the heavy weight of it landing wet and deliberate, smearing more of that messy mix of precum and Choso’s saliva across your mouth.
He did it again, harder this time, the wet smack echoing soft in the quiet bedroom while his scarred lips pulled into that mean, cocky grin. “That’s it, open wider, brat. Gonna fuck this throat pretty tonight— been thinkin’ about shuttin’ you up like this for months.”
He despised you, or at least that’s what the rough grip in your hair said, the way his fingers twisted tighter like he wanted to punish you for walking out, for replacing him with someone so sweetly obedient. But underneath scowl and the low growl in his chest, Toji knew you could take it. You always had. His hips rolled forward slow at first, feeding you inch after thick inch until the head nudged the back of your throat and your eyes watered just a little.
You swallowed around him anyway, lips stretched wide, tongue pressing flat along the underside as he started to thrust deeper, setting a steady, punishing rhythm that made your throat bulge faintly with every push.
Choso stayed knelt right beside you the whole time, dark eyes wide and fixed on the way your mouth worked Toji’s cock, the wet gluck-gluck sounds filling the room as spit dribbled down your chin and onto your bare tits. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched with that shy heat blooming across his cheeks, his own cock hard and untouched between his thighs.
Toji noticed. Of course he did. Without missing a single thrust into your throat, he reached down with his free hand and caught Choso under the chin, tilting that pretty face up towards him. “C’mere, pet,” he rumbled, voice rough but almost amused. “Give me a kiss while your girl chokes on me.”
You tried to pull back just enough to say something, a soft protest bubbling up around his cock, but Toji yanked your head forward again, burying himself deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis and your words dissolved into a muffled gag. “Shut up and keep suckin’,” he snapped down at you, green eyes flashing with that familiar mean edge. “And watch. Eyes open, sweetheart. Don’t you dare look away.”
Choso hesitated for half a second, shy as always, but when Toji’s thumb brushed his bottom lip he leaned in obediently. Toji grabbed him harder then, fingers sliding into that long dark hair as he crushed their mouths together in a deep, filthy kiss. It wasn’t soft.
It was all tongue and teeth and dominance, Toji’s jaw working as he licked into Choso’s mouth like he owned it, swallowing the soft, surprised whimper that spilled from the younger man. Choso melted almost instantly, shoulders slumping, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed back with that quiet eagerness he always gave you— hands coming up to rest lightly on Toji’s broad chest, body leaning closer like he couldn’t help it.
You watched every second of it, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the relentless pace Toji set in your throat, but the sight burned hotter than anything.
Choso’s lashes trembling against his cheeks, a faint moan vibrating between their locked lips as Toji kissed him harder, tongue stroking deep and possessive while his hips kept snapping forward into your mouth.
Spit trailed from the corner of Choso’s lips, his cheeks flushed darker, and when Toji finally pulled back just enough for them to breathe, a thin string of saliva still connected them for a moment before breaking.
Toji’s laugh came out low and breathless, thumb swiping over Choso’s swollen bottom lip as he looked down at you. “Fuck, look at him. So damn well-trained. One kiss and he’s already drippin’ for it.” His cock twitched hard against your tongue, the praise mixed with taunt making your stomach twist in the best way.
You kept sucking through it all, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around every thick thrust while your eyes stayed locked on the way Choso stayed pliant and open, lips parted and shiny, waiting for whatever came next.
Toji’s green eyes flicked between the two of you, that mean smirk deepening as he kept his hips rolling slow and deep into your throat. “She has you so fuckin’ obedient, huh?” he rumbled, voice thick with gravel and heat. “Bet you never fucked her throat like this. She’s a little brat, don’t let her fool ya. Acts all sweet and in control, but look at her— mouth stuffed full and still smilin’ around my cock.”
You tried to pull back just enough to say something, a soft protest bubbling up, but Toji didn’t let you. He fucked forward harder instead, burying himself to the hilt until your nose pressed flush against his pelvis and your throat convulsed around him. “See?” he growled, holding you there, eyes narrowing with dark satisfaction. “She doesn’t even fuckin’ gag anymore. Loves this shit. Been cravin’ it since she left my sorry ass, I bet.”
The stretch burned so good, spit dripping down your chin in messy rivulets as you breathed hard through your nose, tears clinging to your lashes. Toji kept you pinned like that for a long moment, savouring the tight heat, before he finally pulled out with a wet, obscene pop.
Thick strings of saliva and precum connected your swollen lips to his glistening cock before they broke, and you gasped for air, chest heaving, throat raw and tingling.
Toji stepped back, cock heavy and slick between his thighs, and dropped onto the bed with a grunt, sprawling out on his back like he owned the damn mattress. His muscles flexing under scarred skin as he stroked himself once, slow and lazy, green eyes locked on you with that cocky, command. “Get your ass up here, sweetheart. You're gonna take all of this cock. Now.”
You were still catching your breath, lips shiny and parted, but you moved anyway, crawling up the bed on shaky knees. Choso was right there, gentle hands sliding under your arms to help you up, supporting your weight with that quiet care he always gave you. His touch was soft against your flushed skin, thumb brushing your side like a silent promise as he guided you over Toji’s lap.
As you crawled forward, knees bracketing Toji’s thick thighs, hovering just above his heavy, leaking cock, Toji’s gaze shifted to Choso. “Come on, don’t just stand there like a lost puppy,” he said, voice low and rough, one hand reaching out to pat the bed beside him. “You don’t mind fuckin’ her pussy right? While she’s sittin’ on me, fuckin’ get over here.”
Choso’s cheeks flushed darker, shy with hesitation flickering across his face for half a second, but he obeyed like always, climbing onto the bed without a word. You felt the mattress dip under his weight as he settled close, one hand resting on your lower back, warm and steady. Toji’s palms gripped your hips hard, fingers digging in with that possessive meanness as he yanked you down just enough for the blunt head of his cock to nudge against your dripping entrance, teasing, waiting.
Toji didn’t wait long. With a low grunt he bucked his hips up, thick cock pressing into your cunt in one slow, relentless push. The stretch was brutal and perfect, that fat length splitting you open until your walls fluttered tight around every veined inch. You sank all the way down until your ass met his pelvis, a broken moan spilling from your raw throat as he bottomed out deep inside you.
Toji’s scarred hands stayed locked on your hips, holding you there, grinding you down harder so you felt every thick inch pulsing against your sensitive walls.
“Fuck, still so goddamn tight,” he muttered, voice rough and mean, green eyes half-lidded as he looked up at you. “Missed this greedy little pussy. Swallowing me like it never forgot who it belongs to.”
You rocked your hips experimentally, a soft gasp escaping as the head of his cock nudged that spot inside you that made your toes curl. Choso stayed right behind you, quiet and watchful, his warm palm sliding up your spine in gentle strokes while his other hand rested lightly on your hip. His dark eyes were fixed on where you and Toji were joined, lips still swollen from that shared kiss earlier, a faint flush creeping down his neck.
Toji noticed the way Choso hovered, all shy obedience and quiet heat. His smirk sharpened, one hand leaving your hip to reach over and tug Choso closer by the back of his neck. “Don’t just sit there starin’, pet. Get in her. You heard me earlier— you’re fuckin’ her pussy too.”
Choso’s breath hitched, shy as always, but he moved without argument, shifting until he was kneeling behind you on the bed. His long hair brushed your bare back as he leaned in, chest pressing warm against you, cock hard and leaking as it nestled against the curve of your ass.
Toji kept you pinned down on his thick length, hips giving lazy little rolls that made you whimper, while Choso’s hands settled on your waist, gentle and careful like he was afraid to break you.
You felt Choso’s fingers first, tentative as they slid between your spread thighs, brushing where Toji’s cock was already stretching you wide.
He traced the slick stretch of your cunt with soft fingertips, collecting the mess of your arousal before wrapping his hand around his own cock, guiding the head to nudge right beside Toji’s.
The pressure was overwhelming— two thick cocks pressing against your entrance at once, Choso’s shy hesitation making him pause until you reached back and squeezed his thigh in encouragement.
Toji laughed under his breath, that low, cocky sound. “That’s it. Push in slow, kid. She can take it. Little brat’s already drippin’ down my balls thinkin’ about both of us stretchin’ her.”
Choso obeyed, pressing forward with a soft, shaky exhale. The blunt head of his cock slipped in alongside Toji’s, the burn intense and delicious as your walls stretched even wider to take them both. Inch by inch he sank deeper, his cock sliding against Toji’s inside your tight heat, the friction making both men groan low and heavy.
You cried out, head falling back against Choso’s shoulder, body trembling between them as they filled you completely— Toji’s girthy thickness and Choso’s warm length buried deep together.
Toji’s hands gripped your hips harder, holding you still while he gave one experimental thrust up, making both cocks shift inside you and drag against every sensitive spot.
Choso stayed mostly still at first, arms wrapped around your middle, face buried in the crook of your neck as he breathed hot against your skin, letting you adjust to the overwhelming fullness.
“Fuck… so tight,” Toji grunted, voice strained with pleasure, hips rolling up again in a deeper thrust that made you see stars. “Look at her, takin’ us both like she was made for it. You feel that, pet? How she’s squeezin’ around us?”
Choso nodded against your neck, a soft whimper escaping him as he started to move too— slow, careful rolls of his hips that matched Toji’s rhythm, their cocks sliding together inside your slick cunt.
The wet, filthy sounds of skin against skin and the slick drag of two thick lengths stretching you open filled the bedroom, your moans mixing with their low grunts as they fucked you together.
Toji’s large, rough hands slid up from your hips, palms rough and calloused as they cupped your tits, squeezing the soft flesh with that familiar possessive grip. He pinched your nipples between his thick fingers, rolling them until they pebbled hard under his touch, a mean little smirk tugging at his scarred lips when you arched into it with a broken cry. “These pretty tits always did look best when they’re bouncin’ for me,” he growled, voice low and pleased, green eyes dark with heat as he lifted his head from the pillow just enough to latch his mouth onto one swollen nipple.
He sucked hard, tongue swirling hot and wet around the sensitive bud, teeth grazing just enough to make you jolt between them. The wet pull of his mouth sent sparks straight down to where both cocks were buried deep inside your stretched pussy, your walls fluttering tight around the overwhelming fullness.
Choso kept fucking you from behind with those gentle, obedient thrusts, his cock sliding slick alongside Toji’s, every slow drag pressing them both against that perfect spot inside you that made your thighs tremble uncontrollably.
Toji switched to your other tit, sucking it into the heat of his mouth with a low, satisfied hum, his free hand still kneading the first one, thumb flicking over the spit-slick nipple he’d just released. He loved having you like this— caught between them, body trembling and moaning, that quiet control of yours fraying at the edges while two fat cocks stretched your pretty little cunt wide open.
Toji’s hips snapped up harder, driving his thick length deeper with every thrust, the lewd squelch of your arousal coating both of them growing louder as he fucked up into you with that cocky, relentless rhythm.
“Look at you,” Toji muttered against your skin, lips brushing your nipple as he spoke, voice muffled and rough. “Takin’ two cocks like a good girl. Your pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy, squeezin’ us both so tight. Bet you missed this, huh? Missed gettin’ split open by somethin’ real after playin’ house with your obedient puppy.”
You moaned louder, head falling back against Choso’s shoulder, body rocking between their thrusts as the pleasure built heavy and overwhelming.
Choso’s arms stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you steady while he fucked into you with that same shy care, his breath hot and ragged against your neck, soft whimpers spilling from him every time your walls clenched around their joined lengths.
Toji kept sucking on your tits, alternating between them with wet, obscene sounds, biting down gently before soothing the sting with his tongue, his free hand sliding down to rub rough circles over your swollen clit.
The stretch was so much— both fat cocks dragging together inside your slick heat, Toji’s dominance pinning you from below and Choso supporting you from behind, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge.
Toji pulled off your nipple with a wet pop, lips shiny with spit, and grinned up at you with a cocky smirk. “That’s it, moan for us, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you love bein’ stuffed full. Choso’s bein’ so good for you, fuckin’ this pussy nice and deep just like I told him to. But me? I’m gonna make sure you feel every inch tomorrow.”
He thrust up harder, grinding his cock against Choso’s inside you, the friction making stars burst behind your eyes as your moans turned into desperate little cries.
Choso pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, murmuring your name quietly, his hips never stopping their steady rhythm while Toji’s rough hands and hungry mouth worked your tits until they ached with pleasure.
You were lost between them, body trembling and slick with sweat, pussy clenching tight around the two thick lengths stretching you so perfectly, the heat building slow and relentless as Toji teased you with every filthy word and every deep, claiming thrust.
Toji loved every second of it— the way you fell apart so beautifully, the way Choso stayed so sweet even while buried deep inside the same cunt, the way your quiet little smile had turned into open-mouthed moans that filled the room.
He kept sucking and biting at your tits, fingers rolling your nipples, hips snapping up to meet Choso’s thrusts until the three of you moved in one messy, heated rhythm, the night stretching long and filthy with the sounds of skin slapping, wet squelches, and your broken cries echoing between the walls.
A broken little sound tore from your throat as both thick cocks dragged together inside your stretched pussy, the relentless push and pull making your walls flutter and clench around the overwhelming fullness.
Toji’s hips snapped up harder from below, driving his fat length deeper with every thrust while Choso kept that steady rhythm from behind, their cocks sliding slick and hot against each other in the tight heat of your cunt. The wet, filthy squelch filled the room, your arousal dripping down their shafts and coating their balls as they fucked you open so good.
Toji’s mouth was still latched onto your tit, sucking hard enough to leave marks before he pulled off with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen as he grinned up at you with that mean, cocky smirk.
His rough hand slid up to cup your jaw, forcing your head down so you had no choice but to meet his dark green eyes while he kept pounding up into you. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he growled, voice low and gravel-rough, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “Admit it. Tell me what you are. A little brat who wants these cocks stretchin’ your greedy cunt. Say it.”
You tried to bite back the words, a soft whimper escaping instead as another deep thrust from both of them made your eyes roll back, but Toji wasn’t having it. He pinched your nipple hard, twisting just enough to make you cry out, his other hand gripping your hip tighter to hold you down on their joined lengths. “Don’t play shy now. You’re drippin’ all over us, pussy clenchin’ like it’s beggin’ for more. Tell me you want our cocks. Tell me you want our cum fillin’ this sloppy little hole.”
Choso stayed quiet behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his breath hot and shaky against your neck as he fucked into you with those gentle rolls of his hips, letting Toji take the lead like always. His cock throbbed alongside Toji’s, the friction delicious and overwhelming, every slow drag pressing right against that spot that made sparks shoot up your spine. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, shy and sweet, but didn’t stop moving, loving even in the middle of all this heat.
The stretch was so good it hurt, both fat cocks splitting your cunt wide open, dragging against every sensitive inch until you felt impossibly full, impossibly owned. Your tits bounced with every thrust, still slick from Toji’s mouth, nipples aching from his teeth and fingers. Toji’s hand slid down between your bodies, rough fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, mean circles that had your thighs shaking uncontrollably.
“Say it,” Toji demanded again, voice dropping lower, hips slamming up harder so the head of his cock bullied that perfect spot inside you while Choso’s length rubbed right alongside it. “You’re my little brat— our little brat. You want these cocks stretchin’ you good. You want us to fill your pussy with cum until it’s leakin’ out for days. Admit it, brat. Loud and clear.”
Your moans turned into desperate little cries, body trembling between them as the pleasure built hotter and heavier, walls squeezing tight around both thick shafts. Toji’s smirk widened, that cockiness flashing in his eyes as he felt you clench harder, knowing he was winning. Choso whimpered softly against your skin, his thrusts growing a little deeper, a little faster, following every cue you’d ever given him because he always listened, always gave you exactly what you needed.
You finally broke, voice wrecked and breathy as the words spilled out between moans. “I’m… I’m a-a brat… I want your cocks… both of you stretching my cunt so good… I want your cum… please…”
Toji laughed low and rough, satisfaction dripping from every syllable as he thrust up harder, grinding their cocks together inside your fluttering pussy. “That’s my girl. Keep sayin’ it while we fuck you full. Gonna fill this greedy hole until you’re drippin’ with both of us.”
The bedroom echoed with the wet slap of skin, your broken admissions, and the low grunts from both men as they kept fucking you together— Toji and Choso turning your body into a trembling, moaning mess caught right between them, the stretch so perfect and filthy that all you could do was take it and beg for more.
Together they fucked you deeper and harder, hips snapping in a messy, unrelenting rhythm that had both thick cocks driving into your stretched cunt at once. Toji thrusting up slamming his fat length as deep as it would go while Choso followed from behind with those steady rolls that somehow made everything feel even fuller, your arousal coating their shafts and dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you as they stretched your pussy so wide it ached in the best way.
You could feel the bulge in your tummy every time they bottomed out together, the outline of their cocks pressing visibly against your lower belly, shifting and dragging with every thrust. Toji’s rough hand slid down to press against that spot, palm flat and heavy as he growled against your tit, “Fuck, feel that? That’s us, sweetheart. Both cocks bulgin’ out your pretty tummy like you were made to take this.”
The pressure built fast and overwhelming, your walls fluttering tighter and tighter around them until you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your orgasm crashed over you hard, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you clenched down violently around both cocks, milking them with rhythmic, desperate pulses.
Your whole body shook between them, thighs trembling, back arching as wave after wave rolled through you, pussy gushing slick and hot around their joined lengths while the bulge in your tummy twitched and tightened with every spasm.
Choso whimpered softly against your neck, his hips stuttering as your clenching cunt squeezed him so perfectly. “Ah—fuck… you’re squeezin’ so tight,” he breathed, voice shy and wrecked, and then he was cumming too, thick ropes of warm cum spilling deep inside you in pulsing spurts. He kept thrusting through it, slow and careful even as he filled you, his cock throbbing alongside Toji’s while he painted your walls white, the added heat and slickness making the stretch feel even messier, even better.
Toji groaned low and rough at the feeling, his scarred hands gripping your hips bruisingly tight as he fucked up into the slick, cum-filled heat of your pussy. “That’s it, milk us, you little brat,” he grunted, green eyes dark with raw pleasure as he watched your face contort in bliss. “Clenchin’ so good around both of us— fuck, take it all.”
He didn’t last much longer after that. With a deep, guttural growl he slammed up one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed hard and started to cum, thick, heavy spurts of cum flooding your already full cunt right alongside Choso’s. The warmth spread deep inside you, both loads mixing together in messy, overflowing pulses that leaked out around their cocks with every shallow grind of their hips, dripping down your thighs and soaking their balls.
They stayed buried inside you even as they came down, chests heaving, bodies pressed tight around yours in a sweaty, trembling tangle. Toji’s hand stayed pressed to the bulge in your tummy, feeling the way it softened just a little with every twitch of your walls, while Choso nuzzled softly into the crook of your neck, pressing lazy kisses to your damp skin and murmuring quiet praises against you.
The bedroom air hung heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, the three of you locked together in that filthy, heated aftermath— your pussy still clenching weakly around their spent cocks, cum slowly leaking out in warm rivulets, Toji’s mean little smirk still playing on his lips even as his breathing evened out, and Choso’s gentle hold never loosening because he always stayed right where you wanted him.
They stayed buried deep for a long, lazy moment, cocks still twitching inside your fluttering cunt as the last weak spurts of cum leaked from them both. Then, slowly, Toji gave a low grunt and started to pull out first, his thick length dragging against Choso’s as he eased free with a wet, obscene sound.
Choso followed right after, gentler, his cock sliding out inch by inch until both heavy shafts slipped from your stretched hole completely. A thick rush of their mixed cum immediately dripped out of you, warm and pearly white, sliding down your thighs in slow, messy rivulets and pooling on the sheets beneath your trembling body.
You collapsed forward onto Toji’s broad chest with a soft, exhausted sigh, cheek pressing against the hard muscle slick with sweat. His skin was warm, scarred, rising and falling with heavy breaths as one of his large arms wrapped around your back, holding you there like he still had every right to. Choso stayed close behind you, his gentle hands smoothing over your hips and lower back, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder blade while his long hair tickled your skin.
Toji’s free hand slid down between your legs without warning, two thick fingers pushing back into your ruined pussy. The stretch was easy now, your walls loose and slick from taking both of them, and he scooped up the warm mixture of their cum that was still leaking out. With a lazy, filthy motion he fingered it all back inside you, slow and deliberate, pushing every drop deeper while his palm pressed firm against your swollen clit. The wet squelch of his fingers working their combined loads back into your cunt filled the quiet room, obscene and intimate all at once.
“Look at that,” Toji muttered, voice low and rough, smirk tugging at his scarred lips as he watched his fingers disappear inside you again and again. “Such a messy girl. Can’t even keep our cum inside this greedy pussy without help. Need to push it all back in where it belongs… bet you love feelin’ us drippin’ out of you, don’t you?”
You whimpered softly against his chest, hips twitching weakly as his thick fingers curled and stroked, making sure every thick rope of their release stayed buried deep. Choso’s hand joined Toji’s for a moment, tentative fingers brushing alongside as he helped press the cum back inside you, his touch so much gentler but just as eager to keep you full. The feeling of both their hands between your legs, fingers sliding through the slick mess they’d made, had fresh heat curling low in your belly even though your body felt spent and boneless.
Toji kept fingering their cum back into you, lazily, occasionally pulling his fingers out just enough to watch more of it drip before pushing it right back in with a low chuckle. “There we go… nice and full again. Gonna keep you leakin’ our loads all night, sweetheart. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Both of us markin’ up this tight little cunt.”
Choso stayed pressed against your back, arms wrapped around your waist now, murmuring quiet, sweet words against your skin while Toji’s fingers continued their slow, filthy work. You lay there between them, cheek on Toji’s warm chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart as the cum slowly settled deep inside you, warm and heavy, a constant reminder of how thoroughly they’d claimed you tonight.
The bedroom felt heavy and quiet now, bodies tangled and slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Toji’s fingers eventually slowed but didn’t leave you completely, still lazily stroking through the mess as if he couldn’t quite stop touching what was his again, even for a little while.
Choso’s gentle hold never loosened, his breath warm against your neck, and you smiled softly against Toji’s skin, that quiet little smile that said you were exactly where you wanted to be— caught between your mean ex and your sweet boy, full of both of them, leaking and claimed and perfectly satisfied.
You wiped your hands on the little apron still tied around your waist. Your heart fluttered as you slipped out of your apartment with the warm plate in hand. Chicken burritos. Yuki's favorite again.
You had layered them just right, extra cheese melting into the rice and beans. A sprinkle of fresh cilantro on top because she always teased you about how you made everything taste better than ordering take-out.
The note sat on the counter beside it. Your handwriting looping in that soft way you reserved only for her. "Made you dinner. It's chicken burritos." And a little hand drawn smiley face underneath. Because you were a sap like that even if you pretended not to be.
The apartment complex stayed quiet in the early evening heat, summer pressed thick against the walls. It made your tiny shorts cling to your thighs and your tank top feel like nothing at all. You set the plate down carefully in Yuki's kitchen. The one she always let you borrow when your mom's place felt too cramped or when your ingredients ran low. Then you waited, ears tuned for the familiar click of her heels in the hallway.
You heard her door open across the hall. The heavy sigh of her jacket hitting the chair before she even stepped inside fully. Before she could unbutton her shirt more than halfway she was already knocking on your door. Sharp and eager. You answered fast. Cheeks warm, dressed in those tiny shorts and the thin tank top that showed the soft curve of your breasts, summer air making everything sticky sweet.
"Hey." She said, voice low and tired but lighting up the second her eyes landed on you. Her uniform shirt hung open, white bra peeking through. Work pants still hugging her hips and high heels barely kicked off. "Join me for dinner, babes?"
You smiled, and gave her a nod. Already closing your own door behind you and padding barefoot across to hers. The burritos waited on the counter like a promise, then she pulled you in for a quick hug, her body warm from the long shift, her hands left your waist a second later, eyed you quickly once."I'm gonna shower first. I'm disgusting after today," she murmured quietly, then turned on her heels and headed to her bedroom.
You settled on the couch, reaching for the remote, fingers brushing the cool plastic, flipping through channels, the tv hummed softly in the background but your mind wandered to her… the water had turned on, a steady rush that made your stomach tense.Then her voice called out, muffled but clear. "Fuck babe. I forgot my towel. Can you bring it for me?"
Your feet moved before your brain caught up. You grabbed the soft towel from her bedroom, heart pounding as you stepped into the steamy bathroom. The air was thick with heat and the scent of her soap. You tossed the towel over the rack, but the shower curtain slid open before you could pull back. Her wet hand grabbed your wrist, firm and sure. Blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. Water streaming down her toned body and hazel eyes sparkling with that familiar hunger.
"Join me please, pretty girl?" She pouted, then a smile curved her lips playfully.
You didn't even pretend to hesitate, your hands lifted your tank top over your head in an instant. Breasts bouncing free in the humid air. Yuki's eyes darkened, she hooked a finger into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slow along with your panties. Letting them pool at your ankles. Kicking them aside as she pulled you under the spray, water soaking you instantly, warm and relentless.
Your cunt was already dripping, slick with excitement that had nothing to do with the shower. Yuki pressed you back against the cool tile, her hands on your waist holding you steady, kissing your neck first. Open mouthed and greedy, tongue tracing the pulse there. You whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth traveled lower. Sucking at the swell of your breasts, teeth grazing one nipple until it pebbled hard under her attention.
She moved back up…slowly, kissing your chin, then hovered just before your lips. Her brown eyes met yours for the first time properly that evening, she really looked at you, her hands cupping your face, thumbs stroking your wet cheeks.
"So pretty." She whispered, soft like a secret meant only for the steam between you.
Then she leaned back in and kissed you deep, hot and steamy as she stole your breath. Her tongue licked into your mouth. Claiming, tasting… while one hand drifted down your body, fingers teased over your stomach then lower. Until they cupped your cunt, sliding through your folds with ease, you moaned into her mouth, hips bucking against her palm.
"Missed this." She breathed against your lips. Breaking the kiss just enough to speak. "Missed you waiting for me with dinner and that cute little note. Fuck. You spoil me, chef."
Your soft laughter turns into a gasp as she circles your clit with two fingers, unhurriedly and savouring. Water cascading over your joined bodies, making everything slicker and hotter. Your hands roams her back, nails digging into her shoulders as she pressed a thigh between your legs. Giving you something solid to grind against.
"Yuki." You gasped. Voice echoing off the tiles. "P-Please."
She chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you. "Always so polite even when you're this wet for me." Her fingers dipped inside you, curling just right. Thumb still working your clit in tight circles, you rode her hand shamelessly. Head falling back against the wall, mouth opened in soft cries.
Dinner waited outside. Probably getting cold, but neither of you cared. She kissed you again, hungrier this time. Biting your lower lip as she added another finger. Stretching you open under the spray. Your legs trembled but she held you up easily. Strong from years on the job, murmuring praises between kisses. "Good girl. Taking me so well. My pretty little neighbor who aaah- cooks for me and lets me fuck her senseless."
Yuki kept kissing you, deep and slow. Her mouth hot against yours while her fingers worked your tight pretty cunt open, your twitching clit throbbing under the press of her thumb. Slick and needy in the falling water, she pumped her fingers in and out with steady rhythm, curling them just right against that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes. Your eager pussy clenching around her, still so tight even as you dripped down her hand.
You leaned forward into her, pressing your wet body flush to hers. Your lips found her neck, tasting the clean water mixed with the faint salt of her skin from the long day. She tasted like safety and heat all at once. You sucked softly there, then bolder, leaving little marks she would tease you about later.
"Gonna be a good girl and cum all over my fingers?" She teased. Voice low and rough in your ear, her breath sent fresh shivers racing down your spine.
"Yes." You moaned. The word broke apart. "Ahh fuck gonna… haah- cum Yuki."
She spread your legs wider with her thigh, opening you up even more as she fingered your cunt proper now. Two thick fingers plunged deeper and faster, thumb circling your swollen clit without mercy. The wet sounds of her hand working you filled the shower, mixing with the steady rush of water and your broken whimpers.
"That's it, pretty girl. Let me feel you." She whispered. Kissing along your jaw. "So tight for me. So wet. My sweet girl."
Your hips rocked desperately against her hand, chasing every thrust. The tile felt cool at your back but everywhere Yuki touched burned deliciously hot. She kissed you again, swallowing your cries as your pussy fluttered and squeezed around her fingers. Pleasure coiling tighter in your belly, sharper and overwhelming.
Your body tensing up, then you came hard with a loud moan that echoed off the walls, whole body shaking in her arms. Your cunt pulsed around her. Gushing slick heat that faintly washed away in the spray. Yuki didn't stop right away, she kept stroking you through it. Gentling her touches until you slumped against her chest. Breathing fast and ragged.
She held you close under the water as her hand stroked your back while the other stayed cupped between your thighs, possessive and tenderly. "Good girl." She murmured again. Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "My favorite way to come home."
Slowly she drew her fingers out from your tight fluttering hole, slick kept dripping from your cunt, clinging desperately as if it didn't want to let her go. Every tiny tug made your walls pulse around nothing. She leaned in and kissed your lips, soft little presses, trying to distract you from the stretch.
You whimpered into her mouth, then your body finally relaxed. Her fingers slid free with a wet sound. Thick strands of your cum and slick stretched between your swollen cunt and her glistening digits. The mess shone under the low light.
She glanced down at the creamy evidence of your pleasure. Her eyes darkened with hunger. Then she looked back at you, at your parted lips, and smiled.
"Open your lips for me, princess," she murmured, voice husky and sweet.
You obeyed without thinking, she brought her cum-coated fingers to your mouth. The scent of your own arousal filled your nose.
"That's it, pretty," she cooed as you wrapped your lips around her fingers. "Suck them clean."
You moaned around the taste, tongue swirling eagerly. The salty-sweet flavor of your cunt coated your tongue. She watched you with heavy-lidded eyes, clearly loving the sight.
"Good girl," she praised, her voice low and warm. "Such a good girl for me."
Then slowly she eased her fingers free from the heat of your mouth, but before you could catch your breath she kissed you again, deeper this time, sharing the messy aftertaste of your own juices, licking into your mouth like she could never get enough. You melted against her, trembling and needy all over again.
After a moment Yuki turned off the shower and reached for the towel. She patted you dry with slow careful strokes. Her touch lingered on your breasts. Down your stomach. Between your legs where you still felt sensitive and warm. You shivered under the gentle friction. She wrapped the towel around herself next, tucking it tight over her curves.
She then took your hand and tugged you into her bedroom. You stood there by the foot of her bed as she opened her closet and pulled one of her soft t-shirts out and a pair of cute cotton panties for you.
"Here pretty girl. Put these on." She said. Voice warm and low. She helped slide the shirt over your head. Her fingers brushing your nipples on purpose. Making them peak again. The fabric fell loose around your thighs, the underwear hugged your hips snug. You felt claimed. Comfortable, all hers.
The burritos were now warmed enough after a quick reheat. You both ate together. But you didn't sit across from her, instead you climbed right into her lap on the couch. Legs straddling her thighs, the plate balanced between you as she fed you bites from her fork. You did the same for her. Soft giggles mixing with the quiet tv humming in the background.
"You spoil me every time." Yuki said between bites. One hand resting on your lower back. Holding you close. "Coming home to dinner made by my favorite chef. Then getting to kiss you in the shower. Best part of my day."
You leaned in, kissing her softly and tasting the spices on her lips. "I like taking care of you. Especially after you work so hard." Your voice came out shy but happy, body melting against her chest.
Dinner finished slow. Plates set aside and you stayed curled in her lap. Cuddling deep into her warmth, with her arms wrapped around you tight. One hand slipping under your borrowed shirt, cupping your tit. Thumb brushing lazy circles over your nipple and she kissed you again. Deeper this time, her tongue sliding against yours while her body pressed fully to you.
You felt her heartbeat steady under your palm. Her fingers kneading your breast gently, no rushing. Just owning the softness there and you sighed into her mouth. Hips shifting a little in her lap. The summer heat outside forgotten, only the cool apartment air and her touch mattered.
"Stay with me tonight." She whispered against your lips. "Your Mom won't mind if you sleep over again. We can say you crashed after cooking."
You nodded. Already drowsy from the shower. The food. The way she touched you. Your eyes fluttered shut as she kept kissing you. Hands on your tits, body pressed to hers. Safe and wanted in her arms.
Sleep came easy as you drifted off right there on the couch. Head tucked into her neck, her fingers still tracing lazy patterns over your skin. Yuki held you through it all. Pressing occasional kisses to your hair, murmuring how pretty and perfect you are.
Later she carried you to bed. Tucking you under the covers and sliding in behind you. Big spoon to your little. Her hand snuck back under your shirt. Resting possessively on your breast again. You smiled in your sleep, feeling her warmth. Her strength, the way she made every stolen moment feel like forever.
In the quiet apartment across the hall from your mom's place. This was your comfort. It lied with Yuki. The older woman next door, The one who let you cook for her, fuck you breathless and fall asleep knowing you were her pretty girl. Always.
Your girl-friend a menace..! :: 18+ :: gf!shoko x fem!reader :: getting handsy in a bathroom stall for the most part..xo ::
Shoko Ieiri had always been the kind of girlfriend who made your heart race in the quietest moments. Sweet and a little older, she carried herself with that effortless calm that hid just how insatiable she truly was for you. Tonight was no different, the apartment lights were dimmed low. The clock had ticked past midnight, hours ago, you lay back against the soft pillows while she hovered over you with that familiar lazy smile playing on her lips.
Her hands moved first. Gentle yet possessive and she cupped your breasts and squeezed them together creating the perfect plush valley for her mouth to explore. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks immediately, embarrassment flooded through you even as your body arched toward her touch. Shoko noticed of course. She always did.
"So pretty like this for me princess," she murmured against your skin. Her voice was low and warm. She leaned in and took one nipple between her lips, sucking slowly and deeply. The wet heat of her mouth made you whimper, then she switched to the other breast lavishing it with the same attention. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive peak while her fingers kept your soft heavy tits pressed close for her.
She pulled back just enough to admire them. Her eyes lingering on the slight difference in size. One was always a little fuller than the other. She loved that imperfection. It made her smile widen every single time. "My favorite thing," she whispered before leaning down again. This time she focused on the pretty brown of your areolas. The color was rich and warm. She had confessed once that it was her favorite shade in the whole world.
You remembered the way she would match it to her makeup. In the mornings she would carefully line her eyes or her lips with a soft brown that echoed the exact hue of your nipples. It was her little secret ritual. One that always left you flustered when she explained it out loud.
Earlier that evening you both wandered through a high end boutique together. Shoko was browsing through lipstick shades, warm rich tones of browns and reds, when another customer in the store asked her what color her lipliner was.
Shoko gave you a look of pure amusement before opening her mouth and uttering,“Oh its actually the color of my girlfriends ni-" before Shoko could finish the rest of that sentence, a small squeak escaped you and your hand raised up to give a sharp tug to her sleeve, making her laugh the rest of what she was saying, off.
God she almost said it so casually, and you went red in the face out of pure embarrassment. Shoko had a big smile on her lips and you pouted instantly, stammering something incoherent while she just chuckled.
The customer blinked in polite confusion but Shoko simply waved it off with a soft laugh. Her hand found yours right after and she tugged you along like nothing had happened. Yet the flush on your cheeks stayed warm all the way out the boutique doors.
Two minutes later she was dragging you toward the nearest bathroom stall. Her hand was firm around your wrist. The door clicked shut behind you both, and Shoko wasted no time, pushing you gently against the cool wall and kissing you stupid. Her mouth was hungry and insistent, tongue sliding against yours in deep licks that left your knees weak.
You could barely catch your breath when her lovely fingers were already slipping down into your pants, moving with practiced ease, unbuttoning and then hooking under the edge of your panties, pulling the fabric aside. The cool air hit your sensitive skin for only a second before her fingertips found your twitching clit, rubbing slow circles at first, teasing, building you up till your cunt was slick and soaking her fingers.
"You get so wet for me so fast," she breathed against your ear. Her voice was full of affection and heat. She pressed harder now, fingers dipping lower gathering the slickness that was already dripping from you. She used it to glide back up and stroke your clit with perfect pressure. Your hips jerked forward chasing her touch, the sounds of your soft gasps filled the enclosed stall.
Shoko didn't let up. She kissed you again swallowing every little moan. Her free hand stayed at your chest squeezing and kneading the fat plush of your breasts while her fingers worked between your thighs. She loved how responsive you were, how your body trembled and soaked her hand. She circled faster, then slower. Drawing it out until you were a mess of whimpers and dripping arousal.
"Come on baby," she coaxed sweetly. "Let me feel you cum. Just once for me, right here pretty. I need it." Her fingers pressed and rubbed with expert care. The tension coiled tighter inside you, your thighs shook and she kept you pinned there with her body and her kisses until the pleasure crashed over you hard. You came with a muffled cry against her mouth. Wetness flooded her fingers and dripped down your thighs making an undeniable mess.
Shoko hummed happily and didn't pull away just yet. Instead she kept touching you through the aftershocks. Gentle strokes that prolonged the bliss. Her mouth moved back down to your breasts sucking softly on one nipple then the other. She worshiped.
When you finally caught your breath she kissed your forehead. "Good girl. But we're not done, baby. I can never get enough of you." Her eyes sparkled with that sweet possessive love as she helped fix your clothes just enough to get you both back home safely. The night was still young and Shoko had every intention of spending the rest of it buried between your plush curves making you cum again and again until you were utterly spent and glowing.
She was your sweet older girlfriend after all. And she lived for moments exactly like this.
-`♡´- Stuffing! Choso's fingers in you at the lunch table..! :: 18+ :: fem!reader :: semi-public sex ::
Your friends from bio lab are already chattering about the upcoming midterm when you slide into the seat right beside Choso at the long cafeteria table. The lunch rush hums around you, trays clattering, voices overlapping, but Choso sits alone at the end like always, hood up, earbuds in, picking at his food without really eating. He doesn’t like company. Never has. Until you.
You lean over, press a quick kiss to his cheek like it’s nothing, then casually take his right hand under the table and guide it straight between your thighs. No panties today. Just bare, already slick skin waiting for him. His fingers brush the outer of your already slick plump cunt and he freezes, dark eyes flicking to you in silent surprise. You don’t even look at him, just keep smiling at your friends while you spread your legs a little wider under the skirt.
His large fingers press forward easily, two thick digits sliding through your wet heat and sinking straight into your pussy with a soft, filthy squelch only he can attune to hear. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from sighing, rocking your hips down slowly so his fingers worm deeper, curling just right against that spot that makes your thighs tremble.
Choso’s breath hitches. He was staring at his tray a second ago, but now his attention is locked on the way your slick cunt swallows his fingers, greedy and warm, clenching around them every time you shift. He doesn’t say a word, just starts moving them, slow and deep, scissoring gently, thumb brushing your clit under the table like he’s been starving for this all morning.
You keep chatting away with the girls, voice perfectly steady. “Yeah, the lab report is due Friday, but I still need to finish the graph section. Did you guys get the enzyme data right?”
One of them laughs, answering something about the TA being a hard grader, but you barely hear it. All you feel is Choso’s thick fingers pumping lazily into you, stretching your walls, dragging more slick out with every thrust. You clench hard around him on purpose, soaking his hand, and feel his palm press flat against your mound to grind the heel against your clit. A tiny whimper almost slips out, you cover it with a laugh at whatever your friend just said.
Choso’s jaw is tight, eyes half-lidded now, pretending to scroll on his phone while his fingers fuck you deeper under the table. He adds a third finger, slow and careful, and your pussy takes it so easily, fluttering and dripping down his knuckles. The wet sounds are muffled by the cafeteria noise, but he can feel every pulse, every squeeze, every rock of your hips as you ride his hand without missing a beat in the conversation.
“God, this salad is actually decent today,” you say brightly, forking a bite while your cunt clenches rhythmically around his invading fingers. You’re soaked, slick coating his wrist, dripping onto the seat beneath you. Choso’s breathing has gone shallow. His free hand grips the edge of the table so hard his knuckles pale.
Your friends start gathering their trays after a while, standing up to head to their next class. You rise with them, Choso’s fingers slipping out of you with a wet pop that makes his cock twitch visibly in his sweats, but he stays seated, trying to look casual, if he even could at this point.
You lean down, give him a sweet, quick kiss on the lips, then whisper right against his ear, “Enjoy your meal, Choso,” with the most devious little smile curving your lips.
He watches you walk away with your friends, hips swaying, your juices still glistening on his three thick fingers. The table is empty around him now. No one left to see.
Choso lifts his hand slowly, brings those slick digits to his lips, and slides them into his mouth and sucks them clean with a low, hungry groan, eyes fluttering shut at the taste of you, sweet and filthy and all his. He licks between his knuckles, chasing every drop, cock straining painfully against his pants.
-`♡´- Sukuna's ignoring you..the best way to get his attention? With your mouth of-course..! :: 18+ :: fem!reader ::
Sukuna leans back on the couch, legs spread wide in that lazy way he always claims space. The phone rests in his hand, scrolling with bored flicks of his thumb, a blank look sits on his face, the one he wears when nothing holds his interest, his sweatpants hangs low on his hips and the faint outline of his cock presses against the soft fabric. Thick and tempting even while soft.
You watch him from the other end of the couch, heat builds low in your belly, so that's when you slide off quietly, crawling over slowly, until your knees sink into the cushion between his spread thighs, he doesn't look up at first, crimson eyes stay glued to the glowing screen.
Your fingers hook into his waistband and you tug it down swiftly, his cock springs free. Heavy and warm as it rests against his thigh for a moment before you lean in.
“What’re you doing, brat?” he mutters. His voice stays low and distracted, not bothering to lower his gaze yet.
“Nothing,” you whisper too innocently as you press a soft kiss to the head of his cock, it twitches under your lips.
That pulls his attention for a second and his eyes flick down to you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, then his gaze returns to the phone. He lets you continue but he acts like you're barely even there.
You wrap your hand around his thick cock, you begin to stroke him slowly, fingers barely able to close around his girth and you lick along the tip, swirling your tongue until it glistens with your spit. His cock grows harder in your grasp, filling out impressively, fat veins bulging out along the length.
You take him into your mouth, the first inch slides across your tongue and his breath hitches, but his eyes remain on the screen, still pretending you're not there. His stubborn indifference only makes you want more. You open your throat and sink down further, drool spilling down your chin as you work him deeper.
“Fuck…” he mutters under his breath. His hips shift just enough to push further into your mouth. The phone wavers slightly in his hand, thumb slowing on the scroll.
You hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head with a steady rhythm, tongue dragging along the underside of his length. You taste the salt of his skin, feel the heat of him pulsing against your tongue and when you pull back to breathe strings of spit cling from your lips to his cock, shining in the low light and you look up at him, eyes staying wide and needy, waiting for him to break.
The phone slips from his fingers and clatters onto the cushion beside him. Forgotten. His hand finds your hair in the next second, grabbing a fistful and he guides you back down, pushing until his cock fills your throat completely.
“Thought I could ignore you,” he rasps. His voice turns sharper now, rough with arousal, his grip tightening in your hair as he gives another slow steady roll of his hips, fucking your mouth with controlled power. “But fuck, baby girl…y-you’re too good at this.”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when he pushes deep, his cock hits the back of your throat, struggling to breathe through your nose, trying to relax for him. His thumb strokes over your cheek. Gentle in contrast to the firm hold on your hair. He pulls you off just long enough for you to gasp in air, then he leans down and kisses your spit-slick lips, deep and possessively, before he pushes himself back inside your waiting mouth.
“Look at my pretty girl,” he groans. He thrusts into your mouth again, eyes lock on yours now, no more distractions left. “Can’t even scroll my fucking phone without you needing me, huh?”
Your whine vibrates around his cock, the sound makes him laugh. Breathless and low and he tugs your hair back so he can see your messy mouth stretched wide around him. The sight seems to please him because his eyes darken with heat, then he kisses you again, deeply and sweeter. His tongue sweeps into your mouth like he wants to claim every part of you, before he shoves you back down on his cock with a filthy groan.
You moan around him, the vibration traveling down his length. Sukuna’s head falls back against the couch for a moment, his thighs tense under your hands, you brace yourself on them and feel the hard muscle flex as he rocks deeper.
He keeps one hand tangled in your hair, the other rests on your cheek, thumb tracing your stretched lips where they wrap around him. “So fucking pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice still low and warm. “On your knees for me. Taking my cock so sweet even when I try to ignore you.”
You swirl your tongue around the head when he lets you pull back slightly. You suck gently on the tip, looking up at him through wet lashes, hes watching you now. Completely focused. The phone lies abandoned, nothing matters but the wet heat of your mouth.
He pushes you down again, slower this time, letting you feel every inch as it slides across your tongue. Down your throat. You relax and take him, your nose pressing against his pelvis, groans escaping, rumbling deep in his chest. “That’s it, baby girl. All the way…haah- Good girl.”
He holds you there for a few seconds, fingers stroking your hair almost tenderly. Then he lets you up, and you gasp for air. Spit drips down your chin onto your chest, he leans forward and wipes it with his thumb before kissing you again. The kiss tastes filthy and sweet all at once, his tongue strokes yours like he can't get enough.
You dive back in without prompting, sucking him eagerly. Bobbing faster, hollowing your cheeks with every pull. Your hand strokes what your mouth can't reach, twisting gently at the base. Sukuna’s hips buck up and curses softly under his breath.
“Fuck, you love this, don’t you?” he says, voice still carrying that rough edge mixed with affection. “Love choking on my cock while I’m trying to relax. Greedy little thing.”
You hum in agreement and the sound makes his cock twitch in your mouth, you take him deeper. Tears slip down your cheeks but you ddon'tstop…you want to please him. You want to unravel him until he forgets everything but you.
He tightens his grip in your hair again and starts guiding your movements. Not too rough. Just enough to set the pace he craves, hips rolling up to meet your heated mouth, wet sounds filling the room, obscene and intimate. You breathe through your nose when he pushes deeper, swallowing around his thick cock. The tight squeeze pulls another groan from his throat.
“Baby girl,” he whispers. The words sound almost awestrucked. “My perfect baby girl. Look at you, so messy and sweet for me.”
He pulls you off suddenly and tugs you up by your hair just enough to kiss you properly. His mouth claims yours, hungrily and deep, tasting himself on your tongue and groans into the kiss. One hand slides down to cup your jaw, holding you in place while he devours your lips.
When he breaks the kiss his forehead rests against yours, his breathing comes heavy. “You’re too good at distracting me,” he murmurs, voice carrying heat and something softer. “Can’t even pretend to ignore you when your mouth feels like that.”
You smile up at him, lips all swollen and shiny. “Then don’t ignore me,” you whisper back.
He chuckles low, the sound vibrates through his chest and he pushes you back down gently. You open your mouth eagerly, he slides back in with a long sigh. This time his movements stay slower. More deliberate. He savors the wet heat, the way your tongue swirls around him, the way your throat flutters when he goes deep.
You lose yourself in the rhythm, your hands finds purchase on his thick thighs. Feeling them tense and relax with every thrust, cock throbbing against your tongue, growing impossibly harder. You know he's close but he holds back, intentionally wants to draw it out.
He keeps talking to you between groans. Low praises that make your core ache, “Such a sweet mouth. So warm and tight. Taking me so well, baby girl. My pretty little thing.”
You moan around him, vibrations make his hips stutter and he tightens his fingers in your hair. Not pulling. Just holding you close, his thumb keeps stroking your cheek, wiping away stray tears. The contrast between his filthy thrusts and gentle touches makes everything feel sweeter.
Time stretches, minutes blend together. The only sounds are your wet sucking, his low groans and the occasional praise whispered in that deep voice. You pour everything into pleasing him. Hollowing your cheeks, swirling your tongue, relaxing your throat so he can sink as deep as he wants.
Sukuna’s breathing grows ragged, hips roll with more urgency. “Fuck, baby girl. You’re gonna make me come,” he rasps. His eyes stay locked on yours. Dark and intense. “Want you to swallow every drop. Can you do that for me?”
You nod around his cock and suck harder, hands stroking faster at the base. He groans loud, head tipping back for a moment before he looks down again, he wants to watch you…to savour this.
His grip tightens, thrusts turn shallow and quick, feeling him throb against your tongue, then he comes with a deep groan. Hot pulses fill your mouth, you swallow around him, taking everything he gives you. Your eyes water but you keep sucking gently, milking him through it.
He strokes your hair as he comes down. Soft and tenderly,“Good girl,” he murmurs. “My perfect girl. Swallow it all…ngh..That’s it.”
When he finally softens you pull off slowly. You press one last kiss to the head, then rest your cheek against his thigh. Looking up at him with hazy eyes, he looks down at you, expression softening in that rare way reserved only for you.
He pulls you up into his lap, his strong arms wraps around you and he kisses your forehead. Your cheeks. Your swollen lips. Slow and sweet, tasting himself on you without caring.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, one hand strokes your back, warm and soothingly,“Can’t even scroll my phone without you crawling over here and ruining me.”
You smile and nuzzle into his neck. His cock rests soft between you now, still warm. Sukuna holds you close, fingers threading through your hair, so gentle after the roughness.
The room feels quiet and warm, just the two of you. His heartbeat steady under your ear, he kisses the top of your head again. Then your temple, murmuring soft words against your skin.
“My baby girl,” he says quietly. “Always so good for me.”
You stay like that for a long while. Curled in his lap, his arms around you, mouth pressing lazy kisses wherever he can reach. The phone remains forgotten on the cushion. Nothing else matters but this sweet closeness after the heat.
Sukuna’s hand slides under your shirt and he rubs slow circles on your back. His touch stays tender, kisses your neck softly. Then your jaw. Then your lips again, deep and lingering, like he wants to memorize the taste of you mixed with him.
“You made such a mess,” he murmurs. His thumb wipes the corner of your mouth, that lazy smirk is back, the one that makes your stomach flutter. “But you look so pretty doing it.”
He pulls you tighter against his chest, his warmth surrounds you completely. You feel safe. Wanted, cherished in his own rough way, his cock twitches slightly beneath you. Already showing signs of life again, but he doesn't push for more. He just holds you, kissing you slow between soft praises.
“Stay right here, baby girl,” he whispers. His lips brush your ear. “Let me hold you a while.”
You nod against his neck, content. The night stretches ahead, full of his touch and his voice. His quiet affection wrapped around the heat you both crave and you know he will pull you back down again soon enough. But for now he simply holds you close. His pretty distraction. His perfect girl.
The realization hit Satoru in the middle of your bathroom, he'd only gone in there looking for cotton pads, something simple and harmless. He had a speck irritating his eye and Suguru had told him to just grab them from under the sink, that, "babe'll have them stocked". It sounded like the most obvious thing in the world.
So Satoru went digging.
What he found instead stopped him cold in his search. Stacked neatly under the sink sat a small shrine of haircare products. Rows of bottles stood aligned like obedient soldiers. Every label matched, one bottle already sat cracked open and the scent drifting from it was subtle, floral and honeyed. It wrapped around him like a memory, that was too familiar.
Satoru held the bottle up, sniffed once, and recoiled. “Oh my god.”
You poked your head into the bathroom a second later, smiling sweetly. “You found them?”
He held up the bottle like it was evidence in a federal case. “This is his shampoo.”
You blinked. “Yeah?”
“You buy it?”
“Of course I do.”
His eyes narrowed slightly at you, “Since when?”
You shrugged, casually. “Since the first time he stayed over and forgot it, you know he’s picky about his hair.”
“I am not,” Suguru called lazily from the hallway.
You both ignored him.
“I knew this stuff wasn’t just from a convenience store,” Satoru muttered, turning the bottle slowly in his hands. “Wait a minute, this is the salon brand. You have to order this.”
“Mhm.”
“And It’s l-like, thirty bucks a bottle.”
“Not if you buy it in bulk.”
“You buy it in bulk?!”
You smiled, proudly then. “It goes on sale if you get the value pack. I keep it under the sink with the extras. Want me to send you the link, toru?”
Satoru looked like he was witnessing a religious event. His mouth hung open while he stared at the perfectly organized collection. Every bottle stood in precise rows, some were full backups. Others waited half used already. The faint scent of honey and warm florals still lingered in the air, clinging to the steam from earlier showers. It smelled exactly like Suguru’s hair after he stepped out of the bathroom. That soft, expensive, addictive scent Satoru had noticed for years without ever questioning it.
“You know his hair routine?” he asked, voice cracking with disbelief.
You tilted your head. “I do it for him, sometimes.”
“You what.”
“Only when he’s tired,” you added gently, as if that made it less soul shattering. “I help him shampoo, do a scalp massage, he likes the conditioner to sit in for ten minutes so I clip it up while he’s in the bath.”
Satoru was still holding the bottle like it might explode at any second. His blue eyes were wide behind his slightly damp lashes. The image flooded his mind without mercy. You standing behind Suguru in the shower, fingers buried in all that long dark hair, massaging his scalp with patient care while steam curled around you both. It was too soft. Too intimate. Too perfectly you.
You plucked the bottle gently from his hands, placed it back with the others, and smoothed them all into perfect alignment, your movements were careful and loving, the same way you did everything for them.
Satoru watched you like you were an alien, like you had just grown wings and a halo right in front of him.
Suguru appeared in the doorway then, arms crossed, wearing that little smug smile he saved only for moments like this. “She even oils the ends,” he added, voice casual. “Warm coconut.” Oh he definitely was boasting.
Satoru wheeled on him. “She’s your personal hairdresser now?!”
Suguru shrugged. “She’s good at it.”
You grinned, at them “He’s got beautiful hair and I like taking care of it.”
Satoru’s jaw dropped again. Something that kept happening too often now.
Suguru, without looking, slid an arm around your waist and pulled you in gently. You fit there so naturally, soft against his side, chin resting on his chest like you were made for each other, easy affection between you two filling the small bathroom until the air felt warmer.
Satoru stared at the picture you both made, the matching bottles. The shared routines, all the casual ways you had built an entire system of care around Suguru’s picky hair. It was another piece of their quiet domestic world that kept unfolding in front of him.
Then, grudgingly, he muttered, “…Do you do friend haircuts too, or is that just a boyfriend perk?”
You laughed softly and reached up to ruffle Satoru’s snowy hair with the same fond touch you gave Suguru. Your fingers lingered for a moment, smoothing a few strands away from his forehead. “I could be convinced. Especially if you ask nicely and stop looking so horrified by basic love.”
Satoru grumbled under his breath but leaned into your hand anyway. The scent of the shampoo still clung to the air around you. He imagined what it would feel like to have your gentle fingers working through his own hair, the thought made something warm and unfamiliar twist in his chest.
Suguru pressed a kiss to the top of your head while keeping his arm securely around your waist. His dark eyes met Satoru’s with quiet amusement. “She gives excellent scalp massages. Ten out of ten, highly recommend.”
Satoru threw his hands up in defeat. “This is ridiculous. You two are ridiculous. I came in here for cotton pads and now I’m questioning my entire life.”
You slipped away from Suguru long enough to grab the box of cotton pads from the back of the cabinet. You placed them in Satoru’s hand with a gentle pat. Then you leaned up and kissed his cheek, quick and sweet. “There, mission accomplished and if you ever want the shampoo link, just say the word.”
He clutched the cotton like a lifeline, his cheek still tingling where your lips had touched. The bathroom felt smaller, warmer, heavier with all the love you poured into the smallest details. Satoru looked at the rows of bottles one last time. Then at the way Suguru watched you with open fondness. Then back at you and your patient, radiant smile.
He sighed, long and dramatic, but a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth anyway. “Fine. Send me the link. But I’m not calling it boyfriend shampoo, that’s where I draw the line.”
You giggled and Suguru chuckled low behind you. The sound wrapped around the three of you like another layer of warmth against the cold world outside. Satoru finally turned to leave the bathroom, cotton pads in hand and heart feeling a little fuller than when he had walked in.
Satoru realized he no longer felt like an intruder in these moments, it felt like he was slowly being folded into them too. One bottle, one touch, one kiss on the cheek at a time.
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The cold had settled deep into the city that day, it was the kind of freezing that sank into bones and turned every breath into visible clouds. Fingertips stung. Noses turned pink. Even powerful sorcerers found themselves complaining about the biting wind. Satoru burst through the apartment door in a swirl of snow and curses, shaking off the white flakes of his sleeves with dramatic flair.
“Fucking hell, it’s like Siberia out there.” then he stopped dead in the entryway.
You stood in the living room pressed chest to chest with Suguru. Suguru, tall and stoic and usually so unreadable, was letting you warm his hands, you were wearing an oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks, and with gentle care you guided his icy fingers beneath the hem of your sweatshirt.
“You’re freezing,” you murmured and your brows drew together in soft concern as you covered his knuckles with your palms, skin meeting skin in quiet intimacy.
“Didn’t wear gloves,” Suguru replied simply, his eyes stayed half lidded like this moment was the most natural thing in the world.
Like this was something he simply got to have every time he needed it.
You frowned up at him like he was the dumbest and prettiest man alive. “You never wear gloves, Suguru”
“And yet,” he said, voice a soft tease, “I always seem to find a solution.”
You huffed but kept smiling, and you pulled his hands closer into the warmth of your body. Your chest rose and fell slowly as you shifted to fully encase his chilled fingers against your stomach, the gesture was domestic, absurdly intimate even, but quiet in its devotion.
Satoru slammed the door shut behind him, the snow still clinging to his hair and jacket.
“Did I- Am I interrupting something?” he asked. His voice coming out slightly higher than usual while his cold fingers flexed at his sides.
You ignored both of them simultaneously, your focus staying entirely on Suguru’s ice cold fingers as they gradually warmed against your skin, your thumbs brushing tender circles over his knuckles, then you whispered something about poor circulation and stubborn men, Suguru then tilted his head just enough to rest his lips against the crown of your head in silent thanks, of course.
The apartment quickly fell quiet again-
Until Satoru’s voice cut through the moment like a sword.
“So like, just to confirm. You’re literally a personal heater now?”
You glanced over at him whilst still gently rubbing Suguru’s hands, Satoru stood there with his arms crossed and a dramatic pout dawning his lips. His nose was glowing pink from the cold and damp snow still clinged to his white hair.
“Do I get hand-warming services too, or is that reserved for the tall, broody cult-leader types?”
You laughed softly at that, then you held out one hand, towards him.
“C’mere, baby,” you said gently.
Satoru blinked at you, like you said something scandalous, “Wait, for real?”
You nodded, your smile stayed sweet and warm and when he cautiously padded over in his socked feet, you caught one of his frozen hands and pressed your other palm over it.
“Jeez,” you muttered disappointedly, “You’re even colder than him, toru.”
“I told you it was freezing.” He immediately started to complain but shutted up faster when you gently rubbed circles over his knuckles with your thumb and his lips parted in surprise, now a faint pink flush spread across his cheeks.
Suguru raised a brow and watched the scene silently from beneath his lashes while his own hands remained tucked warmly under your hoodie.
Satoru looked between the two of you, his voice coming out a little dazed.
“…This is the weirdest threesome I’ve ever been in.”
You both swatted his arm at once, and rolled both your eyes collectively.
The warmth from your body slowly seeped into Satoru’s cold fingers, he stood there between you and Suguru, letting the quiet intimacy wrap around him and outside the wind howled against the windows but inside the apartment felt like a different world, the soft light glowing from the lamps and the faint scent of your own hoodie mixed with the lingering trace of snow on their clothes was enough cozy for comfort.
You kept one hand under Suguru’s shirt and the other cradling Satoru’s palm, your thumbs still moving in slow, soothing patterns over chilled skin. Every brush of your fingers carried the same gentle care you always showed them. Suguru stayed close, is tall frame curving slightly toward you while he soaked up the heat, and satoru shifted closer too, till he leaned into the touch without meaning to. The cold slowly melted from his hands and spread a different kind of warmth through his chest.
You hummed a quiet little tune under your breath. Your fuzzy socks shuffled against the floor as you adjusted your stance to keep both of them close. Suguru’s eyes drifted shut again in contentment, as satoru watched the way your hoodie bunched around Suguru’s wrists and felt the steady press of your palm against his own.
Minutes passed in comfortable silence, the freezing weather outside felt far away. Here there was only the steady rhythm of your breathing, the shared body heat, and the easy way you offered warmth like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Satoru’s dramatic pout had long since faded. He flexed his fingers against your stomach and let out a long breath. “Okay. This is dangerous, I might just forget my gloves every day now.”
You laughed again and squeezed both their hands. “I have two hands and plenty of hoodie space, you’re both welcomed anytime.”
Suguru smirked faintly and pressed another light kiss to the top of your head while his fingers curled gently against your skin. Satoru glanced at his best friend and then at you. The ache in his chest felt familiar now, warm instead of sharp abd he realized these small moments were becoming his favorite part of coming home.
The three of you stayed like that for a while longer. Pressed close together in the middle of the living room while the cold world waited outside. Your hands never stopped their tender work. Warming, caring and holding them both without hesitation. Satoru closed his eyes and let the quiet affection sink deeper into him. The apartment wrapped around you three like a soft shield against the winter chill and Satoru never wanted to move.
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The morning had slipped into the lazy afternoon by the time Satoru began his dramatic search. He flopped around the apartment like a restless ghost, moaning loud enough to rattle the picture frames on the walls. His favorite navy hoodie had gone missing. The one with the slightly oversized sleeves and the faded print, the one he had stolen from a second-year Tokyo dorm six years ago and refused to admit wasn't originally his.
“Have either of you seen it? My lucky hoodie? The one with the little ramen stain on the cuff? It was here, I swear.”
You stood by the laundry rack, folding clothes with calm, innocent focus. Suguru looked up from his book across the room, clearly amused.
“If it’s the same one you left on our floor last week, it probably got washed.”
Satoru straightened suddenly. “Wait. Washed?”
“Yeah.” Suguru gestured lazily toward you. “She did laundry yesterday.”
Satoru’s eyes snapped to you, you were still folding. Quietly. Methodically. A warm stack of neatly pressed tees sat beside you fresh from the dryer. In your hands rested one of Suguru’s socks, you pinched it delicately at the toe, folded it once, and then again.
Satoru squinted harder, were you folding it into a heart? He questioned as he watched your fingers move like it was second nature, like you had done it hundreds of times before. The socks went into Suguru’s drawer with a neat little pat after, and then you reached for the next pair without pause, humming a soft tune under your breath as you sorted through his clothes with intimate familiarity.
“Wait. Wait. Wait,” Satoru stammered, mouth slightly open. “Are you serious? Are those his socks?”
“Mmhm,” you hummed.
“Did you- Did you just fold his socks into an actual heart?!”
You blinked up at him, completely innocent. “They fit better that way.”
“They.” He sounded genuinely offended. “That’s not- Who folds socks like that?!”
“Suguru likes it,” you murmured, turning to smile at your boyfriend. “Don’t you, babe?”
Suguru, smug with his legs crossed and not even pretending to hide his pride, nodded once without up from his book. “She’s perfect, isn't she.”
Satoru's mouth fell wide open.
“Perfect? You’re calling her perfect over laundry?!”
Suguru flipped a page. “Heartfolded socks, man.”
You giggled, soft and warm, already reaching for the next pair. Your hands moved with gentle efficiency, separating Suguru’s delicates from his uniforms without a second thought. Each piece received the same careful attention, Satoru watching in stunned silence as you smoothed out wrinkles, paired everything perfectly, and created small orderly piles that spoke of daily devotion.
He threw himself onto the carpet face-first with a dramatic groan. “I’m never finding a girlfriend.”
You patted his back sympathetically as you reached past him to collect a hoodie. His hoodie, it was clean now and softer. It carried the fresh scent of your detergent, you smoothed the cuffs with tender fingers, smiled to yourself, and folded it neatly. Not into a heart obviously, but he secretly would've loved that. Instead you folded it exactly the way he preferred.
Then you placed it on the couch beside him with a little tap to his hip.
“There,” you whispered. “Your lucky hoodie. All clean.”
Satoru blinked up at you, caught off guard by how tender your voice sounded, and he way you looked at him carried the same quiet affection you gave Suguru every single day. It settled warm and heavy in his chest.
“…Thanks,” he mumbled.
You leaned down and kissed the top of his head on your way to the next load. “You’re welcome, baby.”
His eyes went wide, and heat rushed to his face.
Suguru burst out laughing from across the room, deep and genuine, the sound filling the apartment with easy warmth. Satoru stayed sprawled on the floor for a long moment, clutching his newly cleaned hoodie to his chest like a shield. He could still feel the ghost of your lips on his hair. The scent of fresh laundry wrapping around him, mixing with the faint trace of your presence that lingered on every folded piece of clothing.
You continued your work with peaceful focus, your fingers sorted colors and fabrics, separating delicates with practiced care. Every movement showed how deeply you paid attention to the small details of their lives. Suguru’s uniforms hanged crisp and ready. His softer shirts lay folded with precision, even the socks waited in their little heart shapes, a silent testament to morning routines and loving hands.
Satoru sat up slowly after a while and he pulled the navy hoodie over his head and let the soft fabric settle around him. It felt better than before, cleaner and warmer now as he watched you move between the laundry rack and the drawers, humming that same gentle melody. Suguru occasionally glanced up from his book to share a fond look with you, the kind of silent exchange that spoke of years built on these tiny acts of care.
The ache Satoru had felt in earlier mornings returned, softer now and less like shock and more like quiet yearning. He realized how much space you made for both of them. How naturally you folded their lives into your own.
As you passed by again, you gently ruffled his hair with a subtle laugh following, your touch lingering just long enough to feel comforting and of course Satoru leaned into it without thinking. The apartment filled with the quiet sounds as sunlight streamed through the windows and warmed the clean piles of laundry, everything felt settled in and domestic in the best possible way.
Later that evening Satoru found another small stack of his own clothes folded neatly on the edge of the couch, each piece carrying your careful touch. He picked up a shirt and held it for a moment, a small smile tugged at his lips.
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The morning moves faster than any of you would like it to, Satoru's already pacing by the door with his mouth full of toast, half dressed in his work uniform, one arm is shoved into his jacket while the other flails toward his phone.
“Where the hell is my schedule. Why do I even have a schedule. Why do I have to teach.”
Suguru, is more calm, he's sitting on the arm of the couch as he laces up his boots with steady fingers and you sit on the floor beside him with your tea, your legs curled beneath you like always, watching the morning chaos play out with that sweet little smile that somehow belongs only to you in these scattered moments.
Satoru doesn't notice it as yet, he's muttering to himself as he drags a comb through his white mess of hair with all the grace of a raccoon in a dryer.
Suguru sighs softly and stands, you stand with him and brush your hands off on your hoodie.
“Don’t forget your shoulder bag,” you tell him, already moving closer. “And your collar’s uneven.”
Satoru glances over, then he stops moving entirely.
You're reaching for Suguru’s lapels without thinking, not bossily, not teasingly just gently. Your fingers tugging the stiff fabric straight and you smooth the fold near his neck and button one snap he'd missed, your thumbs brush his collarbone, then slide up to tilt his chin.
“Stand still,” you murmur, so soft it could float.
Suguru obeys without a word, his eyes fluttering shut softy.
You tilt your head and smile to yourself as you check your handiwork, you look at him like he's a painting you're signing your name across. Then you reach up and fix a strand of his hair, your fingers barely grazing his cheek.
Satoru stands frozen by the door as toast dangles from one hand and he feels that familiar weird ache bloom again in his chest, its definitely not about the collar and not even about Suguru, its the way you do it and how easy it is, like it's not a gesture but a promise, its exactly you're saying let me take care of this, let me take care of you.
Suguru’s eyes open a moment later and you beam up at him, soft and proud. “Handsome." You say smiling.
“I try,” he murmurs back, brushing your wrist with his fingers. “Thank you, my love.”
You kiss his chin and step back.
Satoru scoffs.
“Oh my godddd,” he groans dramatically, clutching his chest. “Are you two ever not disgustingly in love?”
You glance at him sweetly, then you walk over and hand him a mini packet of vitamin gummies.
He blinks. Once, Twice.
“You forgot these yesterday,” you say, completely unbothered, like it's the most natural thing in the world to remember that kind of thing for him.
“…Oh.” He says reluctantly looking down at the packet, in his hand.
“I put the blue ones on top, you like those the most right?.”
He stares down at you speechless.
Suguru raises a brow behind you, already smirking. “Now you’re just spoiling him.”
“He’s my favorite problem child,” you whisper, ruffling Satoru’s hair with a fondness he isn't quite sure what to do with. “That deserves some love.”
Satoru grumbles and mutters something about favoritism, but he will finish every last gummy. The sweet taste lingers on his tongue while warmth spreads through his chest and he watches you move between them with that effortless care. Your hands are gentle when they straighten Suguru’s uniform one final time and they are just as gentle when they tug Satoru’s own hoodie hood into place before he steps out the door.
The apartment feels smaller in the best way, as sunlight pours across the floor and catches on your tea mug. It warms the edges of Suguru’s dark hair and turns Satoru’s white strands almost silver. You hover near them both, making sure coats sit right and bags hang comfortably on shoulders. Every small touch carries quiet devotion.
Satoru shoves the last bite of toast into his mouth. He chews slowly while he studies the way Suguru leans into your space without thinking. The way your thumb had brushed Suguru’s throat like instinct. Like he was yours to keep presentable. Yours to love in these tiny domestic ways.
He feels that ache again, softer this time. It sits somewhere between envy and longing, not sharp enough to hurt, just enough to make him aware of the empty spaces in his own mornings.
You turn back to him with that same sweet smile. Your fingers brush invisible lint from his jacket. You adjust the collar of his shirt with the same care you gave Suguru and Satoru stands still for once. He lets you. The gentle press of your fingertips against his neck sends a quiet shiver down his spine.
“Be safe out there,” you say quietly.
He nods. Words feel stuck in his throat. Instead he leans down just enough for you to reach his hair one last time. You smooth it back with a fond little laugh and the sound wraps around him like the cardigan from last night.
Suguru waits by the door with his shoulder bag already in place, he watches the two of you with a small, knowing curve to his lips. There's no jealousy in his expression, only warmth, only the easy acceptance of sharing this soft space you've created.
Satoru straightens his jacket. He feels more put together than he did five minutes ago. His hoodie sits perfectly on his shoulders, even his messy hair feels tamed under your touch.
The two of them step out together into the bright morning. Your goodbyes linger in the hallway with soft promises of dinner later and gentle reminders to text when missions end. Satoru walks beside Suguru down the stairs. He keeps stealing glances back at the door where you stand waving at them.
The ache in his chest has settled into something steadier now. Something almost hopeful as he pops another blue gummy into his mouth and lets the sweetness chase away the last traces of morning grumbling.
Because even in the rush of leaving, even in the chaos of schedules and teaching and cursed energy, you make space for them. You love them both in the small ways that matters most.
Satoru bumps Suguru’s shoulder as they reach the street. “She’s too good for you.”
Suguru smirks, “She’s too good for both of us.”
Satoru cannot argue with that, he only smiles around the last of the gummies and let the morning carry them forward. The memory of your fingers on his hoodie stays with him like a quiet promise, he carries it into the day like armor. Soft and Warm. Unmistakably yours.
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The morning arrived soft and hazy, barely touching the edges of the city with pale sunlight that filtered through misted windows. Satoru woke slowly on the couch, long limbs tangled under a blanket that smelled like sugar and warm spice and you. It was probably your cardigan tossed over him sometime in the night after he had passed out mid-movie again. The fabric felt comforting against his skin, heavy enough to keep the last traces of sleep wrapped around him.
He yawned wide, blinking blearily at the gentle light spilling across the living room. For a moment everything stayed quiet and still, the kind of thick, earned silence that followed long nights and full hearts.
Then he heard it. Soft laughter... A low, contented hum.
Satoru lifted his head, still a bit groggy, and looked toward the balcony doors and through the sheer curtain he saw the two of you clearly.
You sat cross-legged on the small balcony stool, legs tucked neatly beneath you, suguru kneeling in front of you like something sacred offered to the morning light. His freshly washed hair fell loose and heavy down his back, pooling over your lap in dark, silky waves, you held a comb in one hand while your fingers moved through the strands with slow, patient care. Each stroke looked like you were brushing stardust instead of simple black hair, your touch carrying the kind of love that could probably tam estorms.
Suguru kept his eyes closed, shoulders completely loose and relaxed as you spoke to him in that sweet, sleepy voice, murmuring about the plants that needed repotting and how you thought his jade comb had gone missing again, Suguru answered back with a quiet hum, the sound low and easy in his throat.
Satoru stayed frozen on the couch, unable to look away, not because it was weird, because it of how not weird it was. That was the strangest part about it, how it felt completely natural, like breathing.
You parted Suguru’s hair with gentle fingers, combed through it again, then reached for the little hair tie you always kept around your wrist, your movements never rushed it just stayed practiced and meditative, as if this quiet ritual had been repeated a hundred times before.
“High or low today?” you asked softly.
“Mm… middle,” Suguru replied, voice still rough with sleep.
You nodded and smiled, gathering the long length of his hair into your hands, smoothing every strand with focused tenderness before securing the tie with a light twist, then you gave the end a gentle tug and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head.
“There,” you murmured against his hair. “Perfect.”
Suguru leaned back into your touch without saying a word, trusting and contented.
Satoru flopped back down onto the couch and dragged the blanket over his face. Ridiculous, he thought. Disgustingly soft. Embarrassingly romantic. Completely unnecessary- And yet he understood, deep in his chest, why Suguru walked around with that annoyingly smug look these days, if someone brushed his own hair like that every morning and kissed his scalp as if he were made of spun gold, Satoru knew he would be unbearable too.
A minute later you padded inside barefoot, radiant even in the early light, sleepy and holding a mug of tea. You looked warm and soft in the oversized hoodie that probably belonged to Suguru.
“Good morning, ‘Toru,” you cooed gently.
He groaned from beneath the blanket, voice muffled. “I hate you both.”
“Breakfast?” you offered, the smile clear in your tone.
“…I love you again,” he answered immediately, peeking one blue eye out from the fabric.
Suguru chuckled low in the background, the sound warm and fond as he stepped in from the balcony, hair neatly tied in the middle exactly as you had arranged it. The day began like that, slow and wrapped in your affection like the softest blanket. Satoru stayed on the couch a little longer, letting the quiet morning settle over him while you moved around the kitchen with easy grace. The scent of breakfast soon filled the air, mixing with the faint trace of your cardigan still draped across his legs.
He watched the two of you move together in that familiar rhythm. Suguru stealing small touches, you pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder whenever you passed. Satoru felt the same warm ache from the night before bloom again in his chest, softer now, less like shock and more like quiet acceptance.
This was your normal. These small, sacred moments, the careful brushing of hair, whispered good mornings. The steady love that turned even ordinary mornings into something precious.
Satoru pulled the blanket higher for just a second longer, hiding his small smile. Disgusting, he thought fondly once more. Absolutely disgustinggg.
But when you called his name again and promised extra strawberries on his plate, he tossed the blanket aside and padded over to join you and suguru and for once Satoru let himself sink fully into the warmth without teasing, content to be part of the gentle start to the day.
The three of you moving around each other with quiet ease, laughter drifting lightly between bites and sips of tea, unhurried and sweet, held together by your patient hands and the steady love that refused to let any of them feel alone.
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The apartment sat wrapped in that deep, heavy quiet that only came this late at night. Most of the lights were off, leaving only soft golden glows spilling from a few lamps. Steam still drifted lazily from under the bathroom door where Suguru’s shower had been running for a long while. Satoru lingered on the couch like a nosy ghost, licking the last salty crumbs of rice crackers from his fingers. The bento note from earlier still sat tucked in his bag, making his chest feel strangely full and tender in a way he was not ready to examine.
He stretched his long limbs, yawned wide, and finally wandered down the hallway. The bathroom door stood open just a crack, satoru was already there, one his hand lifted in the air to knock. Ready to tease Suguru about hogging all the hot water again but his knuckles never touched the wood.
Through the narrow opening of the door he saw everything.
You knelt on the bathmat behind Suguru’s seated form, arms wrapped gently around his broad shoulders, his back was completely bare, wet strands of black hair clinging to his spine in dark, curling lines. The dim light catching on every ridge and plane of muscle, turning his skin warm and golden, and you were kissing him.
Not his mouth, not his neck. You kissed lower, slow and reverent, lips brushing along the faded scars that marked his body like old stories written in skin. One kiss pressed to the uneven line across his left shoulder blade and another scar traced the claw-like mark curving beneath his ribs. Then a softer kiss found the smaller scar tucked under the swell of his tricep, nearly invisible unless someone knew exactly where to look.
Your hands moved with quiet care over his back, tracing each mark as if they were sacred instead of painful reminders. Satoru couldn't hear every word you whispered to suguru but the tone of your voice carried clearly through the quiet air, gentle, absolutely devoted and most of all full of undeniable love.
Suguru sat relaxed, hands loose in his lap, breathing steady and even, he was leaning into your touch, not resisting, not pulling away, he simply let you hold him. In this moment he looked nothing like the sharp, untouchable man who walked through battles with steel behind his teeth. Here he became soft clay under your palms, all that strength and history handled like fragile sea glass.
You paused, then brushed your lips slowly down the center of his spine. You rested your cheek there, eyes closed, breathing him in.
“I love you,” you whispered, voice full of quiet certainty.
Suguru answered low and warm. “I know.”
You smiled against his skin. “Still gonna keep saying it.”
“I know that too.”
The warmth in his voice wrapped around the words like a blanket. The safety, the complete trust of it, it hit Satoru square in the chest.
He stepped back silently before either of you could notice him, his heart beat hard against his ribs with an ache that was not quite jealousy. It more closer felt closer to awe, like something inside him had cracked open just enough to understand that is what it means to be loved like this.
Later, when you finally emerged from the bathroom wearing one of Suguru’s oversized hoodies that swallowed your frame, you settled beside Satoru on the couch, and he leaned into your side without thinking, seeking that same gentle warmth he had witnessed.
“Wanna talk about it?” you asked softly, voice careful and kind.
“Nope,” he answered immediately, chewing the inside of his cheek.
You smiled and let the subject rest without pushing. Instead your fingers found their way into his snowy hair, playing with the strands in slow, soothing strokes. Satoru ended up lying sideways with his head in your lap, long legs draped over the arm of the couch. The tension in his shoulders slowly melting away under your touch.
When Suguru stepped out a few minutes later, freshly dressed and raising one dark brow at the sight, Satoru only gave him a quick glance and before suguru had the chance to say something he mumbled softly into your thigh then-
“Shut up. I’m healing.”
Suguru smirked, soft and fond, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and tossing it over with gentle care. The fabric settled warm and heavy, wrapping the two of you in the quiet comfort of the late night.
Satoru closed his eyes and let the moment sink in, the apartment feeling softer than ever had. He thought about the handwritten note still waiting in his bag and the way you had cupped his own cheek earlier with the same tender affection.
He didn't say any of it out loud. He simply stayed there, head in your lap, letting your fingers continue their slow path through his hair while Suguru moved quietly around the room. The ache in his chest eased into something warmer. Something like belonging, like hope that maybe, just maybe, he could let himself be cared for like that too one day.
Suguru eventually settled on the other side of the couch, one arm stretching along the backrest so his fingers could brush your shoulder. The three of you sat in comfortable silence, the blanket cocooning you together. Your free hand reached out to rest lightly on Suguru’s thigh, a casual touch that spoke volumes. Satoru felt the steady rise and fall of your breathing beneath his cheek and let himself sink deeper into the warmth.
The image of your mouth on those old scars refused to leave his mind. The way Suguru had simply let you worship every mark, every piece of his past, without hiding or flinching. It was intimate in a way Satoru had never witnessed before. Not just love, but acceptance. Deep, bone-level acceptance that turned even pain into something cherished.
You kept carding your fingers through Satoru’s hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp in that perfect way that made his thoughts slow down. He let out a long breath and nuzzled closer to your thigh, hiding the small, vulnerable smile tugging at his lips.
Suguru’s low chuckle broke the quiet. “You look comfortable.”
“Shut up,” Satoru muttered again, though there was no heat in it. “Your girlfriend gives good head pats and I’m not moving.”
You laughed softly and leaned down to press a light kiss to Satoru’s temple, the same easy affection you gave Suguru every night. “You can stay as long as you want, ‘Toru, There’s room for you here too.”
Satoru’s heart stuttered at the words and he didn't answer right away, instead he just let the blanket, gentle touches, and the quiet presence of his two favorite people settle over him like a balm. The apartment held a special kind of magic in these late hours. Scars becoming sacred, notes became treasures. And even the strongest sorcerer could melt into putty under loving hands.
For tonight it was enough to be here, covered in the same blanket and surrounded by the same soft, steady love that had turned his best friend soft and open, Satoru breathed out slowly and just let the quiet hold him tonight just as you had.
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• ಇ. 𝓑 f!Suguru x fem!reader :: Fluff :: Crack :: 𝓟 t3
𝓜 asterlist 𝓟 rev〡 𝓝 ext
The midday sun poured through the kitchen window in soft golden streams, warming the tiled floor and catching on the little green plants lined up along the sill. Satoru had only meant to drop by for a quick raid of the fridge and maybe annoy Suguru for half an hour before pretending to be productive. Yet the apartment always slowed him down the moment he stepped inside. It felt too soft here, too warm in ways that still caught him off guard every single time.
Watered plants leaning towards the light. Silly magnets and coupons covered the fridge door, and that ridiculous glitter-pen frog drawing still sat proudly in place, labeled “For my frog prince ♡” in your familiar handwriting. His eyes landed on the counter beside Suguru’s work bag. There rested a neatly wrapped bento box tied in a sweet patterned cloth covered in tiny cats. Satoru knew immediately it was yours. The ends were twisted in that particular little way you always did, and a tiny folded napkin shaped like a heart peeked out from one side. It looked far too adorable to ignore.
He squinted at it for only a second before his raccoon instincts took over. Fingers quick and sneaky, he untied the cloth and lifted the lid.
Inside the box everything was arranged with obvious care. Little rolled tamagoyaki sat golden and neat, rice molded into perfect hearts, a few golden fried shrimp, and neatly sliced fruit arranged like a small bouquet. It looked like something pulled straight from a drama. He slid the divider aside, and there it was. A small handwritten note rested against the side in your neat script.
“You’re my favorite reason to wake up early. I love you, babe. Eat well, okay? ♡”
Satoru stared at the neat handwriting for a long time. The words sat there soft and sincere, wrapped in simple ink and quiet devotion. Something in his chest twisted in a way he could not quite name.
Slowly and dramatically he closed the box, retied the cloth exactly as it had been, and smoothed the edges with careful fingers. He stood very still, trying to process what he had just seen.
“Hey,” Suguru called from the hallway, voice calm but knowing. “Don’t touch my shit.”
“I wasn’t,” Satoru lied, even though his hands were still hovering near the bento.
Suguru stepped into the kitchen a moment later, sipping tea from his mug. He glanced at the counter and raised one brow. “You looked inside.”
“You should be arrested,” Satoru accused, pointing at the box like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s lunch.”
“It’s a love confession wrapped in shrimp tempura, you freak,” Satoru continued, voice rising with dramatic outrage. “Who are you? Since when do you get handwritten notes and heart-shaped rice balls?”
Suguru shrugged, clearly not even a little sorry. He leaned against the counter with that easy grace. “Since I started dating someone who cares.”
Satoru looked genuinely betrayed. “What am I, chopped liver?”
“You’re not dating me.”
“Barely,” Satoru huffed. “You don’t even text me in the mornings anymore.”
From the living room your voice drifted in, gentle and warm. “I texted you good morning today, ‘Toru.”
Satoru spun toward the sound, mouth dropping open. You peeked your head into the kitchen wearing an oversized sweater with sleeves too long and mismatched socks on your feet. A small smile played on your lips.
“You did,” he said, still stunned.
You stepped fully into the kitchen and gave him a warm side hug, arms wrapping around his waist with the same easy affection you always showed. “You replied with a cat meme and no punctuation.”
“I was overwhelmed emotionally,” he argued, though his voice had already softened.
You giggled softly and reached up to cup his cheek with gentle fingers, brushing a stray strand of snow-white hair from his eyes like he was something delicate hiding beneath all that swagger. “You want a lunch too? I can pack something next time.”
Satoru pretended to hesitate, tilting his head. “I mean, if it’s not a burden.”
Suguru snorted into his tea from across the counter.
You smiled wider and turned to Satoru, your arms still wrapped around him and your cheek pressing lightly against his back. “I’ll even write you a note, okay? One just for you.”
Satoru stiffened at first, trying to look too cool to care. But then he melted anyway, shoulders relaxing under your touch. “You’re not gonna make mine heart-shaped too, right?”
“I can make yours stars instead,” you teased lightly.
He beamed instantly. “Okay, fine. That’s acceptable. I’ll allow it.”
Suguru looked between the two of you. His chaotic best friend was being babied like a long-legged toddler while you stood there with soft eyes and even softer hands. He simply smiled into his tea, fond and quiet.
“Do I get one?” Suguru asked, voice low and warm.
“You get two,” you answered without missing a beat.
Satoru gasped theatrically. “This is favoritism.”
“It is,” you agreed, still holding him close. “But you’re still my favorite little pest, ‘Toru.”
His heart stuttered in his chest at the words. He would not admit how much they landed. Not for a while.
Later that afternoon, back in his own apartment, Satoru discovered a surprise bento tucked into his bag. The note attached was written in your familiar handwriting. “You are loved, even when you're loud ♡”
He held the box like it was made of gold. He didn't eat it right away. Instead he took a careful picture and posted it in the group chat.
[Satoru, 12:34 PM]: i’m someone’s favorite little pest 😌 fight me
[Suguru, 12:35 PM]: keep the box. wash it and return it.
[You, 12:36 PM]: do you want a cookie too, toru?
[Satoru, 12:36 PM]: yes.
He stared at the screen for a moment longer, a small genuine smile tugging at his mouth. The kitchen felt warmer in his memory now. The handwritten note, the heart-shaped rice, the gentle way you had cupped his cheek. All of it sat soft and steady inside him.
The rest of the day passed in a quiet haze for Suguru. He carried the bento with him to work, the little cat-patterned cloth tied neatly around it. Every time he opened the box during his break, the handwritten note stared back at him, warm and steady. He ate slowly, savoring each bite as if it carried your touch straight to him. When he finally returned home that evening, the apartment smelled faintly of dinner already simmering on the stove.
You greeted him at the door with that same soft smile, sleeves still too long and socks still mismatched. Suguru pulled you close without a word, burying his face in your hair for a long moment. The day had been long, but coming back to this, to you, made everything settle nicely into place.
Suguru kissed the top of your head, voice low and fond. “Thank you for the note today.”
You hummed happily and hugged him tighter. “Always, my love. Always.”
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The apartment had settled into that deep, heavy quiet that only midnight could bring. The television still glowed with the paused frame of Howl’s Moving Castle, colorful and frozen in place, while empty popcorn bowls and scattered snacks sat forgotten on the coffee table.
Satoru remained sprawled across the oversized beanbag in the corner, his long legs stretched out lazily, one arm tucked behind his head. He had expected noise and laughter tonight, the kind of endless teasing that usually carried movie night straight into the early hours.
Instead the energy in the room had shifted without warning, turning softer and warmer in a way that left him strangely rooted to his spot.
You sat comfortably on the couch with Suguru’s head nestled in your lap. Your fingers moved through his dark hair in slow, repetitive strokes, carding gently through the strands as if each pass held quiet devotion. One arm rested across his broad shoulders while the other cradled his jaw, your thumb brushing slow and steady along the curve of his cheek.
Suguru looked completely relaxed beneath your touch. His lashes fluttered every so often, his body heavy and pliant like warm lead poured into the cradle of your thighs. He was not merely sleepy. He looked small in the gentlest sense, safe and soft and entirely at peace in a manner Satoru had rarely seen before.
“Hey,” you whispered down to him, your voice low and warm like honey dripping slow. “Ready for bed, my love?”
Satoru’s entire body stiffened where he lay on the beanbag. There it was again. That soft little phrase. My love. It landed with the weight of something sacred and private.
Suguru only hummed in response, the sound low and content. He did not move away. If anything he melted deeper into your lap, a large housecat who had decided this exact spot belonged to him forever.
You leaned down and pressed a real kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering there with unmistakable affection. Then you began the careful process of coaxing him upright, your hands never leaving his body for long. You guided him as though he were something precious that needed protecting from the rest of the world. Your touch stayed patient and sure while you helped him sit up fully, palms smoothing down the front of his loose sleep shirt with tender care.
“C’mon, babe,” you murmured. “Let’s go brush your teeth, yeah?”
“…Don’t wanna move,” Suguru mumbled, eyes still half closed and heavy with exhaustion.
“I know,” you cooed softly, already easing him to his feet anyway. Your hands stayed busy, adjusting his clothes and steadying his balance with gentle insistence. “I’ll make the bed. You just rinse and spit for me.”
Satoru could not hold it in any longer. “I hate this,” he blurted out from his spot on the beanbag, voice cracking with genuine disbelief.
You and Suguru both turned to look at him, blinking in mild surprise.
“Excuse me?” you asked, sounding more confused than anything else.
“I feel like I’m trapped in a live action Ghibli film and you two are the main couple,” Satoru continued, gesturing wildly between the pair of you. “I’m the comic relief side character who forgot to leave the set. Do you tuck him in too?”
You nodded without hesitation, completely serious. “Of course I do.”
Satoru felt his soul attempt to exit his body right then and there.
You reached down and took Suguru’s hand, tugging him gently toward the hallway. He followed without any resistance, eyes sleepy and trusting, letting you lead him as though he would walk into the ocean itself if you asked. Satoru watched in stunned silence as you paused briefly at the couch to straighten the blanket before guiding Suguru toward the bathroom. The last thing he heard before the door clicked shut was your gentle voice floating back.
“Want your lavender pillow or the cooling one tonight, babe?”
“…Lavender,” Suguru answered quietly. “Unless you want the other one.”
“You can have both.”
Satoru sat alone in the suddenly too quiet living room. He stared blankly at the paused movie screen, mouth slightly open, trying to process the sheer tenderness he had just witnessed. Minutes ticked by in heavy silence.
Then the bathroom door opened again. You stepped out first, humming a soft little tune under your breath as you moved toward the bed in the adjoining room. You fluffed the pillows with careful hands, dimming the lights until the whole space glowed warm and low and intimate. Suguru followed behind you like a tall, beautiful shadow dressed only in a loose t shirt. His dark hair fell loosely around his face, eyes still soft with sleep. He looked thoroughly kissed. He looked loved in a way that felt almost too private to witness.
Satoru narrowed his eyes and spoke like a man who had seen something forbidden. “You’re the big spoon, aren’t you.”
You smiled sweetly over your shoulder. “Every night.”
Suguru did not even bother denying it. He simply tugged you down into the bed with him and let out a deep, contented sigh the moment you curled around his larger frame from behind. You tucked the blanket carefully over his shoulder, one hand stroking slow circles along his back while you murmured something too quiet for Satoru to catch.
“Oh my god,” Satoru muttered, pressing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna throw up.”
“You stayed too long,” Suguru said without opening his eyes, voice muffled against the pillow.
“You’re blushing,” Satoru shot back. “Don’t even pretend this isn’t your kink—”
“Goodnight, Satoru,” you both said in perfect sync.
Satoru eventually dragged himself up from the beanbag, grumbling the entire way to the door. He muttered under his breath about needing to find someone who would kiss his forehead and offer him a lavender pillow too. Yet as he stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind him, a faint little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth anyway.
He shook his head, hands stuffed deep into his pockets while he headed down the stairs. Disgusting, he thought with real fondness. Absolutely disgusting. But Suguru had never looked so happy. He had never rested so easily. And Satoru had certainly never heard him whisper goodnight with that much quiet devotion before. The night air felt cooler against his skin as he walked, the image of the two of you curled together lingering warmly in his mind. He would tease them mercilessly tomorrow. For now he let the soft domestic scene settle somewhere gentle inside his chest.
The door clicked shut and left only the low hum of the apartment and the faint glow of the television. Inside, you kept your arms wrapped securely around Suguru’s waist, chest pressed to his back as the big spoon you always were. Your fingers continued their slow path along his spine beneath the blanket, tracing idle patterns that made his breathing deepen even further. The lavender pillow cradled his head while the cooling one rested nearby in case he shifted during the night, exactly as he liked.
Suguru let out another quiet sigh, body melting back into yours with perfect trust. “You spoil me,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and affection.
You pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, lips brushing warm against his skin. “You deserve it, my love. Every bit of it.”
He hummed again, the sound vibrating low in his chest. His larger hand found yours where it rested over his stomach, fingers threading together without thought. In the quiet dark of the bedroom the world outside felt far away. There was only the steady rhythm of your breathing against him, the gentle weight of your arm holding him close, and the familiar comfort of being tucked in and cared for so completely.
Suguru shifted just enough to nuzzle back against your chest, a small, content smile curving his lips even as his eyes stayed closed. “Goodnight, my love,” he whispered.
You smiled against his shoulder and held him a little tighter. “Goodnight, babe.”
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There’s something about the way you exist around Suguru that makes time feel slower and all the more softer, like the universe hushes itself whenever you're close to him, giving the two of you space to be this quiet little thing together.
It’s no different this morning with the kitchen smelling faintly of green tea and the leftover rain from last night, rays of light spilling lazy and golden through the half-open blinds, catching on the edges of everything like it wanted to slow the world down too. Suguru stood in front of the counter, still a little damp from his shower, black hair loose and curling softly at his temples and the nape of his neck. He reached up without thinking, sleepy-eyed and graceful even half-awake, long fingers brushing toward his favorite mug.
You were right behind him, your hand moving on instinct before your mind caught up. Warm palm lifting, gentle but sure, shielding the top of his head from the sharp edge of the cabinet door as you opened it.
“Babe,” you murmured, voice low and soft like a secret pressed against skin. “Watch your head, okay?”
Suguru paused. His arm froze mid-reach. He blinked down at you with that slow, heavy fondness that always made your chest feel too full. For a moment he said nothing. Then a small laugh slipped through his lips, quiet and private, the kind he only let out when he felt caught being loved too openly. He leaned into your touch anyway, letting your fingers slide through the damp strands of his hair as your hand lowered.
“I wouldn’t have even noticed,” he said. His voice was still husky from sleep, rough around the edges in the best way.
“I know.” You smiled up at him, rising onto your toes just enough to press a lingering kiss to the side of his arm. “That’s why I look out for you, my love.”
Behind you both, the fridge door clicked shut. Satoru had been standing there the whole time, half-hidden, spoon already buried in one of Suguru’s leftover pudding cups. He stared with wide blue eyes, the spoon frozen halfway to his mouth.
There was a long, heavy pause.
“…I’m sorry, what did I just witness?” Satoru asked, holding the stolen pudding like evidence in a trial. “Did you just mom-arm him from the cabinet?”
You blinked at him, genuinely confused for a second. “He was in the way.”
Suguru let out a long sigh, already bracing himself. He knew exactly where this was going. “Go on.”
Satoru did not need to be told twice. “No, no, don’t mind me. I just didn’t realize my best friend was living in a full-blown romcom. You want me to start leaving the room every time you kiss his forehead too, or is that just a natural household hazard I should start preparing for now?”
“Satoru,” Suguru warned, though the exasperation in his tone was threaded through with unmistakable fondness.
“She shielded you, Suguru. From a cabinet door. With her bare hand.” Satoru gestured wildly with the spoon, a little pudding dripping onto the floor. “That’s next-level. That’s wife behavior. That’s ‘I will protect this man from all minor inconveniences’ behavior.”
“It was very sweet,” Suguru said simply in response. Then you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around Suguru’s waist from behind, pressing your cheek against the warm plane of his back. “He doesn’t look where he’s going when he’s tired. I don’t want him to get hurt.”
Satoru stared like you had just confessed that the two of you spent your evenings knitting matching socks and feeding each other grapes by candlelight. “Do you cradle his face too? Do you go ‘c’mere baby, let me tuck your bangs back and whisper Shakespeare at his temple’?”
“Gojo,” Suguru said flatly, though his ears were already turning a faint shade of pink.
You answered without hesitation, resting your chin against Suguru’s spine. “Only when he has nightmares.”
Suguru flushed deeper at that. The warmth spread across his cheeks and down his neck. He pressed one large hand over both of yours where they rested on his stomach, squeezing gently. He didn’t speak, but the way his thumb brushed slow circles over your knuckles said everything.
Satoru squinted, absolutely scandalized in the most dramatic way possible. “You’re seriously telling me that he gets lullaby treatment? From you?”
“I like taking care of him,” you said gently. Your voice stayed soft, steady, as you held Suguru a little tighter. “He always takes care of everyone else. Doesn’t he deserve that too?”
Satoru looked at Suguru then, really looked, like he was seeing something brand new. For once the usual teasing light in his eyes flickered with something quieter, almost surprised.
Suguru groaned and raked a hand down his face. “Satoru, I swear…”
“Okay, okay,” Satoru muttered, finally going back to his stolen snack. He waved the spoon in surrender. “I’m not crying. You’re crying. I’m leaving before I need tissues. Please, for the love of everything, do not make any more intense eye contact while I’m still in the room. I have delicate sensibilities.”
He backed out of the kitchen with exaggerated steps, pudding cup clutched to his chest like a shield. Even as he disappeared down the hallway you caught the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The moment he was gone, Suguru turned in your arms. He gathered you close, both strong arms wrapping around your waist until there was no space left between you. He rested his forehead gently against yours, breath warm and steady.
“You don’t have to baby me, you know,” he murmured. His voice was low, intimate, meant only for the small space between your mouths.
“Maybe not,” you whispered back. You swayed with him slowly, a lazy little dance in the middle of the kitchen. “But I like when you let me.”
Suguru didn’t answer with words. He kissed you instead. Soft and slow and grateful, lips moving against yours like he was pouring every unsaid thing into the gentle press. One of his hands slid up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading carefully through your hair. The other stayed firm at the small of your back, holding you like something precious he never wanted to let slip away.
You melted into it, tasting the faint hint of toothpaste and the quiet morning on his tongue. Time stretched again, soft and hushed, the same way it always did when you were close to him. The universe seemed to lean back and give the two of you room to exist like this, wrapped up in each other, hearts beating in the same unhurried rhythm.
And in the hallway, Satoru lets out the most obnoxious gagging noise you’ve both ever heard in your life.
“Get a room!” Satoru called out, voice dripping with theatrical disgust even though he was clearly smiling. “Some of us are trying to eat pudding in peace!”
Suguru pulled back just enough to laugh quietly against your lips. His eyes stayed half-lidded, dark and warm and full of that deep, ruinous love that never seemed to fade. You smiled too, brushing your nose against his.
“Let him be,” you whispered. “I’m not finished looking out for you yet.”
Suguru hummed, low and content, and kissed you again, slower this time. Deeper, like he was agreeing with every word. He held you closer, you just let him and that was how most mornings started, in his arms.
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