contains ; domesticity. bf!suguru. suggestive themes. modern / college au. geto wants you to be his housewife basically. just a short drabble. mostly fluff.
just thinking about college bf!suguru that didn’t realize he was a domestic person until he met you.
he’s still young, only in his third year at university and he’s still deciding on what his near future will look like. he’s had his fair share of girlfriends, and little hookups, and to be quite frank—he didn’t think he was done either.
how was he supposed to know the first night he met you, bent over his backseat, was about to be the start of the most serious relationship he’d ever have.
that night started the first of many, slowly realizing he was only asking to hookup just because he wanted to see you. how he’d send a pickup text, with a frown on his cheeks because he thought you were only in it for that reason.
and when he finally swallowed his stubbornness, he was met with the most amazing two years of his life, stuck with you by his side.
college bf!suguru who, until he met you, hardly even dreamt about a future where the love of his life would carry his child in her arms, kissing his cheek and brewing a cup of coffee for the two of them to share in the morning.
he didn’t even care to imagine what that future would be like, what the woman would look like. it didn’t feel achievable, or even desirable until he fell in love with you.
and it was a random realization, but looking back on it—it was building. slowly.
weeks and weeks spent of you just pampering him, praising him, for even the most average things. like, getting an amazing score on an exam, and all you had to do was say, “aw! good job, baby!” before he was putty in your fingertips.
his room is all messy, deep dark circles under his eyes. it was procrastination’s fault—his fingers hurt from typing on his computer all day thanks to waiting until hours before a huge essay was due.
you offered to leave his apartment, to give him the concentration he needs to get it finished, but he was ushering a “no, no stay,” because he honestly didn’t want you to leave. so you stayed, situating yourself in the other room, occasionally popping in to check up on him—and eventually lay on his bed after he insists you to.
it’s only when he finally finishes—8 hours later and it’s already nighttime. his shoulders are slouched, his back is stiff and he’s walking out of his room with his closed computer weighing by his side.
and you’re still there.
not only are you still there, but you’re washing his dishes.
hair clipped back, sweatshirt engulfing your body and sweats tightly tied around your waist. you’re humming along to some music that plays over a speaker—quiet but loud enough to know what song is playing.
you look so utterly homey.
so…domestic.
like you’ve settled into your personal home after a long day at work, just blissfully scrubbing away on glossy white dishes that were previously eaten on. your clothes acknowledge that you’re comfortable, uncaring of what he sees you in.
although it’s not just the fact that you’re dressed like that—it’s the fact that you’re cleaning his things.
cleaning a mess you didn’t even make, just out of the kindness in your heart that’s making geto’s throat close and his palms sweaty. he’s in absolute awe that he doesn’t realize you’ve noticed his presence until you’re turning to face him.
“oh! did you finish?” you ask, turning the water off and rushing towards him.
“yay! ‘m so proud of you!” you grin, lacing your fingers behind the back of his neck and pulling him in for a chaste kiss like you always do—but it feels so much different this time.
like you’re congratulating him on a big promotion, tugging on his work tie and kissing him until he’s forgetting his own name.
he feels like his ring finger is so cold, and there’s a missing heavy weight that’s never even been there in the first place.
like he’s an idiot for not tying you down on the spot—wrapping vows and vows around the two of you until you’re barely mobile.
and he wants to be your doting husband for the rest of his life. he wants to walk through his front door every evening with an awaiting kiss to his cheek, and a home-cooked meal fresh in his senses.
he wants to go to sleep with you in his arms every night, mumbling sweet ‘i love you’’s after flickering off the bedside lamp.
and maybe, just maybe one day, he wants to hear the gentle pitter patter of two little feet charging down the hallway.
this is accidentally freud coded (emphasis on accidentally)
it’s a shitty thing, isn’t it? wanting to fuck your best friend’s older sister?
♡ — contents ! rewrote this fic from my last blog and i’m dedicating it to the beautiful @satorhime. happy birthday sweet baby!! i hope your day is super special and you and gojo eat a lot of cake and have a lot of sex <3 ⋆｡°✩ explicit sexual content ⦂ f!reader (she/her), geto’s older sister!reader (early twenties) x gojo (19), non-sorcerer au, let’s just say they commute to college, ‘kay?, brief video game violence, mutual pining, enemies to lovers, food play?, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, cum eating, public sex, brat taming, panty thievery, forbidden romance?
“SHIT!”
gojo cursed to himself, having once again been eaten by zombies.
“screw this,“ he tossed his controller over his shoulder and stood for an obnoxious stretch.
gojo and geto’s relationships had aged far past formalities. the white-haired boy practically lived at his friend's house, especially after class. at this point, he maneuvered through geto’s parent’s house as if it were his own.
“you got anything good to eat in here?” he asked, turning to his best friend who was still very much entranced in the game.
geto’s controller clacked around violently as the bright lights flashed in his narrow eyes, reflecting all the blood, guts, and murder taking place on the screen. gut-wrenching screams and gunshots filled his bedroom, defiling the quiet of the otherwise peaceful afternoon. there was no telling whose side he was on anymore. the zombies or the humans?
“i think my mom just bought some fruit and stuff,” he said finally, eyes still fixed on the screen. “there should be some grapes in there.”
gojo scoffed, disgust dripping off his tongue at the mere thought of anything other than processed sugars and cakes being offered to him as a snack. no candy? no sodas?? but grapes??
he grabbed the doorknob, turning back before opening it. “next time i come over, there better be some good shit in here.”
“then bring your own snacks, you heathen,” geto spat, face contorting into weird expressions as he concentrated on the game.
gojo left, flipping off his best friend (not that he would’ve seen it away) and shutting the door behind him just in time to mute the litany of swears spewing from geto’s lips. whomever’s side he was on, he was definitely losing.
on his way downstairs, gojo couldn’t help but smirk at your door on the other side of the hall, decorated with pink stickers, posters, and “get out” signs to deter intruders, more cute than foreboding.
he wondered what was going on the other side of that door. what were you wearing? hopefully those short shorts. the ones that your ass hung out of? you were always so sexy when you so fortunately strutted around the house in those whenever he was around. almost as if you did it just for him…
it’s a shitty thing, isn’t it? wanting to fuck your best friend’s older sister? but gojo had his eyes on you, and once he locked his eyes on a target, it was almost a certain victory.
you had a nice little thing going. he’d hit on you or make some smartass comment and you’d yell at him or roll your eyes. it didn’t matter your reaction, as long as he had your attention. if he stayed under your skin long enough, he was sure he was that much closer to getting under your panties.
a few moments later, he returned up the stairs, grapes in hand as well as a singular peach he found hiding away in the fridge. approaching your door, he couldn’t miss today’s opportunity to raise your blood pressure, so he decided to make a quick detour before heading back to geto’s room.
“ugh, my brother and his friend are here. they’re so loud,” you complained to your best friend over the phone, sprawled out over your bed which was donned with fluffy pink pillows and plushies.
“yeah, the one with the eyes,” you confirmed, now turning into your stomach and kicking your feet in the air, “they’re like freakishly blue.”
“not the miley cyrus meme, oh my fucking god,” you cackled at your friend's joke.
gojo stood there by your door eavesdropping.
oh, so you think about me? he thought to himself, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. the petty insults did nothing but swell his pride. what was there to be upset about? at this rate, you were practically his.
“ew! what do you mean he’s fuckable?” you exclaimed.
“nonononono, i said he’d be fuckable if he wasn’t so annoying. it was purely hypothetical!”
gojo rolled his eyes. you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.
“i mean, yeah, he’s kinda hot now, but he’s my younger brother’s best friend— i literally grew up with him. that’d be weird…” you confessed, grabbing hello kitty to prop yourself up.
“but i’d be lying, though, if i said i’ve never thought about putting my pussy on his face just to shut him u—“
knock, knock
you groaned sitting up in your bed, the swiftness of your movements displacing your family of plushies. you excused yourself from your call for a moment. doesn’t anyone read the signs?
“what?” you spat, voice laced with venom.
“hey,” gojo announced himself, opening the door and taking his place, leaning cooly against the frame. his legs were crossed at the ankles drinking in the sight of you.
you and those fucking shorts…
irritation began to simmer your blood at the mere sight of gojo satoru. must he always ruin your evenings with his presence?? one may fear your eyes may get stuck by how hard you rolled them.
”ugh, suguru’s room is the other way, loser,” you sneered.
a tank top too? no bra? aw, now you’re just teasing me…
he leered at the way your tits sat in your tank top, the swell of your breasts just visible past the hem and with your pert nipples printing through your shirt? his mouth watered at the sight.
“i got some snacks. you want any?” he offered, holding up the fruit in his hands.
“what? no. get out of my room, satoru. i’m on the phone,” you scoffed.
you’re so fuckin’ cute when you’re angry.
“are you sure?” he baited, his voice song-like. “i heard peaches are pretty good this time of year…”
you glared back at him with narrow eyes as his azure ones sparkled at you.
“you’re breakin’ my heart here. i got it just for you,” he pressed on.
your best friend’s laugh could be heard faintly from her end of the line.
and then you caved, letting out an exasperated sigh and promising your friend you'd call back before hanging up the phone.
“if it’ll get you out of my room then fine,” you groaned, crawling over to sit on the edge of your bed.
gojo tossed you a peach, setting down the bag of grapes on your dresser. you caught the fruit and sunk your teeth into the fuzzy skin while your tongue lapped up the sweet flesh and juices that gushed from it.
he watched you carefully, not a holy thought in his head.
you met his gaze and asked “what?” with a mouth full of peach.
“nothing,” he laughed through his nose.
there was a beat of silence before he changed the subject.
“so!” he clapped his large hands, “what were you talking about?”
the air around him was as blithe and easygoing as ever, but yet his gaze was piercing and calculating. it was as if he could see right through you, blood, veins, and all. you felt bare— vulnerable, but more importantly, it pissed you off. what the fuck was his problem?
you swallowed.
“mind your business, satoru.”
“i’m tryna mind yours—”
“—and that’s your problem! i got your snack. now, go be nosy somewhere else.” you snapped, having had enough of his antics for today.
he scoffed, and for the first time, you felt he might be a little irritated with you.
“how long are we gonna keep playin’ this game, sweets?” he asked, almost laughing.
you sat there in confusion.
“what the hell are you talking about?”
“this,” he gestured between the two of you,“pretending you don't want me. this cat and mouse game where i chase you and you run away, telling me you hate me and blah blah blech! it’s getting a little old don't cha think?”
okay, now you were pissed. just who the fuck did he think he was coming into your room and making these baseless allegations? your blood was boiling, and next thing you knew, you snapped.
“what ludicrous fantasy have you conjured up in that thick skull of yours, huh?” you scorned. “there is nothing going on between us. i don't want you, you idiot. i genuinely hate you and now you’re starting to piss me off. get the fuck out of my room.”
“you really won’t quit, will you?” he scoffed, slowly sauntering over to you, “so you’re telling me you don’t wanna put that pretty pussy in my face? hm?”, he tapped his cheek, mockingly, “not even to shut me up?”
his face was mere inches from yours now and with your eyes locked, he sunk his teeth into your peach, tearing off a bite with an obscene slurp.
your stomach sunk to the floor, eyes wide in shock.
“what’s wrong, little mouse?” he pouted with faux sincerity, cocking his head to the side,
“cat got your tongue?”
his voice was dripping with condescension and in that moment, you knew he had won.
you felt embarrassed. defeated. your gaze fell upon your lap as you fought the sting of oncoming tears.
he lifted your chin with his knuckle, stroking the side of your jaw with his thumb. his voice was softer now, almost sympathetic as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“just say the word, baby, and i’m yours…”
the words seemed to shrink in your throat as you answered.
“i can’t, ’toru. it’s wrong and–”
“and he’ll never know, sweet thing,” he interjected, taking your head into his hands. you hated the way your body betrayed you, how easily it melted into his touch.
“don’t worry your pretty little head about it. just sit back and let me take care of you.” he spoke into your lips, only a hair’s breadth away from meeting.
your breath stuttered against his lips, tingling with the desire to be locked in his. you felt the heated spark of contact before he turned his head away, grazing his lips along the side of your jaw before planting a sweet kiss on your cheek.
you hated that you wanted this. you hated that he knew you wanted this and yet he was denying you, but all your frustration melted away as he peppered kisses down your neck, searing his mark into your skin.
he let out a chuckle hearing you gasp under his ministrations and placed a quick kiss over your exposed sternum before sinking down to his knees. he removed the fruit from your hand and continued his path down your tummy until his face was hovering over your center.
“satoru, no, wait. w-what are you doing?” you stammered, trying to take control of the situation, but your voice betrayed you. each syllable reeked of desperation.
“what do you want me to do?” his voice was low and steady as rocks as he peppered kisses along your plush inner thighs, pulling tiny gasps from you.
with each teasing kiss, lust thickly clouded your judgement and your body took the lead, hips bucking up on their own accord chasing his lips that seemed to move everywhere besides where you wanted them most.
“ah ah, use your words,” he admonished, pulling away from your core. he was enjoying the shift in the dynamic, a smug grin permanently plastered on his lips. gojo had been playing the long game and he knew it was only a matter of time before he found the loose string that’d have you falling apart at the seams.
“satoru–ngh, please…” you begged, your voice diminishing into a pathetic whimper, all boldness dissipating under the lust that was slowly taking over your body.
“you’re almost there…” you could feel the heat emanating from his breath as he hovered over your mound, soft moans catching in your throat as he placed tender kisses over your clothed center.
“p-please eat my pussy, ‘toru. i wan’ it” you uttered in defeat, embarrassment making your cheeks unbearably hot.
“oh, she’s sour and she’s sweet?” he chuckled. “let’s see if you taste the same…”
fuck, you sounded so hot like this, all needy and calling out for him. he swore his name has never sounded better than when it fell from your trembling lips. his heart damn near punched a hole through his chest at the sound of it.
gojo hooked his fingers under the band of your shorts, pulling them down along with your underwear in one fell swoop and was greeted with the sight of your plump cunt absolutely dripping for him.
“you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweets. and here you were tryna keep this from me,” he purred, running his thumb up and down your folds and spreading your slick.
“s-satoru, you idiot, the door!” you barked in a loud whisper, choking back whimpers as he bumped into your clit on each drag up.
“what about it?” he dismissed as if it were no more trivial than what color socks he was wearing while he began rubbing languid circles over your clit, feeling it pulse and stiffen at his attention.
“c-close it—fuck,” you begged, choking on a moan, “what if suguru catches us?”
“then you’ll just have to shut up, won’t you?” he hissed like you were a petulant child before disappearing between your thighs again.
you watched gojo latched his plush lips around your puffy clit, gently making out with your cunt. each pass of his lips knocked the breath out of your lungs. he ran his tongue through your slit, mimicking his earlier motions before dipping straight into the source to collect your essence.
his snowy lashes fluttered closed, and with each lick he savored you, humming and moaning at your sweet taste. no summer fruit could compare to the nectar that dripped from your hole, and all for him.
your eyes darted to the door, watching for any sign of movement, your heart stuttering a nervous rhythm in your chest at the fear of your brother finding you like this.
white-hot pleasure zipped through your spine as gojo sucked harshly at your clit.
“focus on me.”
he ignored the squeal that left your lips, enjoying the heat of your gaze as you followed his every movement— his eyes, his lips, his tongue as it melted along your pussy. even moreso, when your pretty little eyes fluttered to the back of your head, teeth digging into your lips to dam those pretty sounds that he knew you were holding back.
he wanted to hear you. even if it was just once, he wanted to hear you call out for him. gojo hooked his arms under your legs, shifting his weight so he could press you deeper into the mattress, using it as leverage to lap at your pussy harder.
a loud cry slipped from your lips, muffling it with your hand just in time before it rang through the halls. your other arm collapsed under you and your fingers immediately found themselves tangled in his hair, grounding yourself in the immense pleasure.
he was playing your body like a fucking fiddle, knowing exactly what speed and what pressure would have you falling apart under him.
fuck he’s good at this. why is he so good at this? you wondered in sheer disbelief of pleasure beginning to take hold of you. where did he learn to use his mouth like this?
as if he could read your thoughts, gojo’s eyes met yours flashing you a wink before they fluttered closed again, losing himself in your pleasure.
he released you from his lips with a soft smack, lithe fingers spreading your lips for him to lick a long strip from hole to clit and began to flick wildly at the sensitive head. you felt the froth of his spit trickle down the seam of your ass before he slurped it up again in a wet, nasty mess.
you arched off the bed, spine threatening to snap in half as sheet-gripping pleasure racked through your body. you reached for one of your plushies, desperately biting into the fluff to muffle your screams. your skin was on fire, breath ragged and deep as the pressure began to build in your cunt, so so close to bursting. your mind was melting from the sensitivity, but it just wasn’t enough.
across the hall, you heard geto cursing loudly at his game and anxiety twisted your guts. you forgot he was even there.
you released the poor plush from your jaws, propping yourself up on jellied arms.
“satoru, hurry up!” you whimpered, bucking up into his face for him to wrap things up. this had gone on for far too long.
gojo paid you no mind, keeping his pace as he made out with your clit.
“satoru, pleas— oh!” you squealed, feeling two long fingers split you open so effortlessly.
“you’re really not gonna let me take my time, are you?” he tsked, ignoring the obscene squelch of your pussy as it creamed around his digits.
this wasn’t for you, it was for him. he had finally gotten a taste of you and now you were gonna rush him?
he supposed you were right. this was only the beginning and he’d never get the chance to fuck you properly if his best friend were to find out.
he began to piston his fingers in and out of you, curling them on the drag out. his lips found themselves wrapped against your clit while drawing wet circles over the sensitive bud. the air rang in a symphony of sin as he made a sloppy mess out of your pussy.
the obscenity fell on deaf ears, your hearing momentarily shot as you held back a silent scream feeling the pads of his fingers catch on that special spot that has you seeing stars.
“wait, ‘s too much!” you panted, grabbing frantically at his hand. the pleasure was overwhelming you and a strange feeling began to bloom in your core.
gojo swatted your hand away and interlaced his fingers with yours while he continued his assault on your pussy. all you could do was squeeze his hand with all your might, succumbing to seismic waves of pleasure that wrecked through your body.
you came. hard. thighs clamping around his head as he slurped up the juices that gushed from your hole.
you were yanked from the fuzzy hold of your high, by gojo’s obnoxious sounds, fearing that if your brother hadn’t heard you before, he surely would have then. with your remaining strength you, weakly smacked at his head, cursing at him to shut up.
gojo pulled away from you with a chuckle, swatting your hands away from him. he fell back on his ass, chin glistening in a mix of your juices and his saliva when he wiped his chin with the back of his hands.
your cheeks felt hot seeing how much it glistened in the late afternoon sun and reality began to settle in. you really just got the best head of your life from your younger brother’s best friend. and you enjoyed it. guilt began to prick at your heart at the thought.
gojo admired his glistening fingers, now pruned from being buried in your wet heat, and popped them into his mouth with a delighted hum, locking eyes with you in your disheveled state.
“gochisousama!” he chimed, pressing his hands together.
“god, you’re so annoying…” you huffed, chest still heaving from your high.
“you know, you’re a lot nicer when you’re begging me to eat you out,” he said, as he brought himself to stand.
a fuse flipped in your brain and your eye began to twitch with anger.
“GET OOUUUUUT!” you screamed, assaulting him with a barrage of pillows and plushies and forcing him out of your room.
you threw yourself back on your bed with a hard thump and smothered your face into a nearby pillow to muffle your screams. maybe you could try smothering yourself to death? it was a far better fate than dying of embarrassment.
✰⋆｡°✩
gojo closed the door with a soft click, grapes in hand as well as another little souvenir.
he smiled triumphantly at your pretty pink thong before stuffing it into his pocket as he made his way across the hall.
twisting the knob, he entered geto’s room who was still too engulfed in his game to notice his presence. he was none the wiser.
gojo threw the bag of grapes onto his friend’s lap, taking his seat in the gaming chair next to him.
“what took you so long?” geto asked, pausing the game and setting down his controller.
“ran into your sister,” gojo responded with a smirk, propping his feet up on the small table.
geto looked back at him, a little skeptical, before deciding to move on.
“you want some?” he offered, digging his hand into the bag of grapes and popping a few in his mouth.
“no, thanks,” gojo declined, “i ate on the way here.”
☆ REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED !
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thinking about…night owl sugu and his early riser gf …
he doesn’t know how he managed to freshen up and roll out of bed since he’s practically stumbling into the kitchen with his eyes half closed. he wanted to kick himself for promising that he would wake up for breakfast, but the moment the rays of daylight struck his pretty irises he immediately regretted his decision.
his head was pounding, his stomach gnawing at him in discomfort from being up during hours that he wasn’t used to. he really should go back to sleep, but it’s the start of your blossoming relationship and geto hasn’t figured out how to tell you that these morning activities you love so much just don’t work for him.
he sees you in his kitchen, slicing up fruit while nipping your bottom lip in concentration. he leans against the frame of the wall, and quirks his brow when he takes in the tee you were wearing. it occurs to him that this the first time he’s ever seen you in his clothes, and the black oversized fabric engulfs you, leaving only the stems of your legs and arms visible.
aki wants you to tell him about your day while he eats your pussy because his day was stressful and he just wants to forget all about it.
he’s lapping at your cunt so slowly, his arms wrapped around your thighs while you’re propped against the headboard with your fingers laced through his hair. you’re hardly coherent in what you’re saying, just mumbling, “n yeah they were—nghh—annoying me,” and he’s just nodding and humming along while his thumb circles your clit so delicately it’s like he’s touching glass. in some ways, he’s a little selfish. he’s using you to forget about the stressful day he’s had, so when you trail off in your sentences, he’ll pull away just enough to speak with a, “then what happened, sweetheart?”
and since he’s going much slower, a little lazier then he usually does when he eats you out—it’s taking a lot longer. but it’s all for him. he’s eating you out for his sake. so he’s going to take as much time as he needs to forget all about his terrible day.
contains…established relationship. fem!reader. mutual masturbation. virgin!reader. college au. no curses / sorcerers. reformed player!geto <3. messy making out. cum shot. lovesick!geto (i’m serious). praise. so much fluff. not proofread.
your boyfriend is just so hot.
you have eyes, you have common sense, you have a brain. you’re not oblivious to the stares he gets, and the late-night messages he receives that he’s never once responded to.
you’re fully aware of the countless girls who talk bad about you, whining about how a man such as geto could possibly settle down with a prude like you, and how he’s likely getting what he doesn’t get from you somewhere else.
it doesn’t matter, however.
you know he’s not like that anymore. in fact, he’s far from it.
he’s wrapped around your finger, so whipped you’re practically walking him on a leash at all times. he’s so obviously infatuated with you—that’s why people talk.
he’s in love with you—point blank. he’s incredibly infatuated with his beautiful girlfriend, oblivious to the girls who wantonly text him despite his experiences because, in his mind—if he’s in love, so is everyone else!
the thing is, though, geto has no idea just how similar you two are.
he knows that obviously you love him too, and there is a reason you’re still dating him. but he doesn’t know the entire extent to how much you love him. how much you long for him.
he doesn’t know the nights he’s away, you spend with your thoughts wavering and your mind all foggy.
he doesn’t know you spend your nights apart the same way he does—flushed, aching, and desperate for a release.
it’s not like you haven’t given him any reason to believe you’re sexually attracted to him—you let him know just how handsome he looks all the time. but due to your abstinence, he doesn’t let the compliment spread too far.
he keeps his hands clean, until he can dirty them when you’re apart.
he’s probably a little dense for not realizing you’re just as desperate as he is—there’s just the matter of you being emotionally—or physically, for that matter—ready for such a change in your life.
and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t mind the waiting. there’s a newfound want he’s gained. it’s not the want to get his dick wet, it’s a want to please you.
to make you feel good, to see just what makes your head spin—not his.
you’ve known it from the start that geto suguru will be the man who takes your virginity. but now wasn’t the time—despite how needy your body was reacting to him.
“you’re so—god—annoying,” you pant, lips moving sloppily against his, knuckles growing white from the grip you held on his large t-shirt.
he snickers against your mouth, hand wrapped tightly around your lower waist to keep you pressed below him. you taste so sweet, like the soft serve you were innocently licking just minutes ago that he had absentmindedly asked if he could have a taste of.
it resulted in you childishly eating the rest of the ice cream, claiming there was “no more” he could have. you were giggling about the mess you made, before he assured you there was definitely a way he could still have some.
despite how cold your lips were, he held you tight against his chest, palm cupping your cheek and making a mess out of you desperately.
he’s so painfully good at kissing you. at getting a rise out of you. if you weren’t so scared of the intimacy sex endures, you’d for sure have already done it with him. countless times at that.
he just made you so needy.
“ya should’ve let me have a bite, sweetheart.” he teases, nearly stealing every ounce of your breath and nibbling on your cheeks.
despite the cold sweet was (somehow) still lingering on your tongue, you could feel the sheen of sweat accumulating on your forehead.
he guides his open-mouthed kisses to your neck, wantonly nibbling and sucking on your skin he’s grown to find was sensitive, letting your head topple back while he does so.
your legs were loose where they wrapped around his waist.
“suguru—“ you breathe, mind racing a mile a minute.
he takes a moment to respond, allowing your back to arch and a short whimper part your lips before he pulls away to admire the small purple hickey he charitably made. “what, baby?” he hums, grinning down at his work before leaning back in to pair it with another one.
“what do you do when you get like…really horny?”
he pauses, cutting his new lovebite short before he’s leaning over you again, and this time looking at you in your eyes.
he slides his thumb across your swollen lower lip, fighting a smirk.
“i masturbate.” he says assuringly.
your breaths were still even—still quick. your chest rose each time you inhaled until you exhaled, and the taste on your tongue was a mixture of two things—the ice cream, and your boyfriend.
“and, do you think of me?” you ask.
he’s never told you—mainly because he was always kind of afraid you’d be upset by the fact that he does, indeed.
which, certainly you’d have the right to feel upset. he’s nearly violating your privacy—but then again, he can’t really control his subconscious. it’s not his fault he goes into autopilot as soon as he’s alone with his hand, and the thoughts of his pretty little girlfriend.
he lets out a short laugh, leaking with nervousness, while his eyes waver with maintaining contact.
“well, i mean—“
“because i think of you.” you interrupt, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. your gaze falls to his—how glossy and plump they look.
his eyes widen.
“really?” he can’t help but wonder, and that smirk he was fighting had won.
“all the time. every time.” you whine, your knuckles tightening their hold on his shirt.
he could gape, but the sly grin on his face was overpowering. he loved hearing you say that.
“i do too—every time.” he confesses, sliding his tongue across his lips.
he notes the small specks glowing in your eyes, and how your irises grow just a little.
“what do you think about?”
he smiles down at you, raking his mind for every thought he’s had of you—and there were many. he knows just what he thinks about, every single time.
he doesn’t want to walk on eggshells anymore, not after knowing you think of him the same.
“pleasing you. just how you’d react if i did certain things. how you’d sound, look, taste, feel. everything.” he says honestly, sliding his thumb across your cheek.
you couldn’t deny the heat that spread to your face, and just how dryer your throat has gotten. but more specifically, just how dizzy your head had grown.
“what about you? what do you think about?” he asks before you can say anything in response.
you lick your lips, a small chuckle leaving to fan his cheek. “what it’d be like. how you’d feel, and make me feel.” you murmur, flattening your hand against his chest.
he couldn’t deny the way his ego—already overflowing—grew at your words. he knows about his large sexual history, and how people think of him, but this confession instantly made it to the top of his list. he might never forget it. especially since it’s you admitting it.
he can’t help but grin at the image, because he knows he’d make your first time worth your while. worth all of the time he’s patiently waited—and how much longer he’ll wait ahead.
you sigh, gliding your hands up his chest to link around his neck.
“god—i just want to do it. get it over with. you make me crazy,” you admit, chuckling quietly while keeping your gaze set on his lips. “but i can’t yet. i just—i don’t know why. i just can’t.”
he smiles, sliding his palm down the side of your face, brushing short pieces of hair from your eyes before he cups your cheek.
“and i’d never ask you to. i’m happy with waiting, my love. just being in the same room is enough.” he reassures, and despite deep down knowing this, you couldn’t help the feeling of a weight being lifted from your chest.
you swallow nervously, trying your best to ignore your hands which were growing weak and your stomach which was starting to tighten due to a lack of friction your core has been craving for a few minutes now.
“and—but i’m just so horny right now. i’m so—i need you.” you whine, your breaths picking up and chest heaving against his.
he lets his hand that was tight around your waist loosen a little, cupping your waist and looking at you deeply. he almost groans at your words, something he’s never heard come out of your lips.
“what do you want me to do?” he asks, lowering to press a deep kiss to the opposite cheek he was holding, and then another one to your jaw.
you chew on your lower lip, clearly contemplating something in your mind with the way your eyebrows furrow and your gaze wavers. your body was flushed, hot and sticky underneath your clothes—combining with his weight and warmth over you.
you carefully press your hand against his shoulder, using small force until he gets the message and confusingly lifts himself from you, crawling back onto the cushion of the couch that wasn’t occupied.
“i, just—“ you begin to stutter, your sparkling eyes flickering with a certain want—a need—that geto has never seen before and he feels himself swell in his sweats.
“i want you…to, just—“ you trail off again, sliding your pink tongue across your plump lips and he finds himself staring.
that is, until your knees that were previously pressed together slowly begin to separate, and his eyes subconsciously fall to your hand that is weaseling it’s way down your clothed body.
his eyes instinctively widen, watching your dainty and nimble fingers disappear between your shorts and underwear, and the moment your lips part and you gasp ever-so-quietly—he feels his body light on fire.
oh god, you were touching yourself.
right in front of him.
he feels like he might go crazy, the way your head tips back to dangle over the armrest, and the way your chest heaves as your hand picks up its pace.
he wonders why you tilted your head back. is it just a reflex, is that how you always react? or is it to hide your face which is undoubtedly on fire, and avoid eye contact with the man who’s nearly about to short circuit in front of you?
a little part of you is probably embarrassed. but why pay attention to that right now when he makes you act like this? when he gets you so worked up?
“nghh—” you whimper, and geto’s hand moved all on his own. he wraps his hand around his length through his sweats, his eyes lidding when looks at you.
“fuck,” he moans your name, half-trying to get your attention and half-subconsciously just talking. your teeth nibble on your bottom lip when you lower your chin, fragile gaze growing a little more confident when you see just what you’re also doing to him.
when you get to see how you make him feel every time he sees you. he’s never been driven so insane.
your eyes fall to his hand, watching him pump himself through his clothing just like you were doing, before your gaze meets his.
“kiss me.” you mutter, a little more commanding then intended but hey—who’s he to deny?
he surges forward, his free hand cupping and sliding towards the back of your neck as his lips connect to yours.
and it’s so messy. so sloppy, he can immediately taste your saliva. your tongue, so soft and slippery, and there’s moans pushing from your lips while you continue to touch yourself. he makes a silent effort to press himself against you—and the groan he lets out from the feel of your hand rubbing your clit against the back of his nearly makes you laugh around his lips.
“c-can i—do it too?” he stutters, mumbling into your mouth.
you could melt.
“yes—sugu, yeah,” you pant, nodding your head which unlatches your lips. your eyebrows pinch together as the pad of your finger presses against your clit, feeling your wetness soak through your thin pair of underwear.
geto groans, sloppily fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants before he moves to pull them down his legs.
he hovers over you again, hand continuing to palm himself through his thin boxers. he keeps his eyes on yours, watching how the grow a little heavier, and your head rolls to the side to rest your cheek against the cushion.
your hand has picked up its pace, and even though he’d never ask—he wishes he knew exactly what you were doing to yourself because whatever it was makes your chest heave, and another desperate whimper push through your lips and fill the steamy, thick air.
“s’it feel good?“ he sighs, dipping his fingers into his boxers to officially give himself some skin-to-skin contact.
you nod, whimpering. “mm, yeah—i’m s’wet.” you moan, fluttering your eyes closed as you sigh.
his head hurts. he’s aching to know just how wet you are. he’s dying to know how it feels.
but he’s a patient man. in fact, just hearing the way you touch yourself is enough.
his cock is throbbing, it almost hurts to grab when he frees himself from his thin restraint, and pumps his hand quickly along his length.
you open your eyes to peek when he lets out a stifled whimper.
your eyes widen at what you see—and not just because his dick is the first real one you’ve ever seen, but because of how large he was.
his hand was so much bigger then yours, and he couldn’t even fit the size of himself.
his angry red tip, throbbing and leaking. he’s so long, and there’s a pretty pale vein running alongside his length that makes you suck in a breath. you wonder how it’d feel inside you.
he didn’t see the way your eyes widen, only the way your hand seemingly picked up speed below your shorts and he slides his tongue along his lower lip.
“y-you’re—“ you whisper, your eyes moving to trail up his physique you’ve already seen a handful of times, until they meet his gaze. “you’re so big.”
he can feel stars in his eyes, his length twitching immediately, while the compliment puffs up in his chest. he wants to reach out, kiss you all over, make it apparent that his lips were against your skin to anyone who’d be nearby.
“yeah?” he chuckles, rubbing his thumb across his slit. you marvel in the quiet whimper that he involuntarily lets out, watching his lips purse together before his foggy gaze meets yours again.
you nod, but before you could say anything you quietly stifle a moan when your fingers roll over your clit in a particular way, causing your breath to hitch and your head to fall back once again.
geto thinks he can watch you forever, with the way your breaths grow staggered, and your clothed chest heaves when you inhale. his vision grows dizzy when he sees the way your eyebrows pinch, and the way you desperately press your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your quiet whimpers and moans.
he wants the image to be burned into his brain forever—because god, this is what you look like when you’re touching yourself. this is what you look like when you’re alone in your bedroom, thinking of him just like he does to you.
he almost feels embarrassed when he can feel the all-too-familiar build up in his lower stomach.
his eyes roll when he lets out a low groan, subconsciously leaning forward and pressing his free hand to the armrest beside you.
“‘m close,” he whines, embarrassingly so because usually he could last much longer—but you made his will fly out the window.
you nod slowly, picking up your pace before a quiet sob of, “m-me too,” wobbles out of your throat.
his eyes warily open at your words. he needs to see your face when you cum. he peeks his gaze down to your hand, and it’s only then when he realizes—he’s actually about to cum.
“where should i—i dunno—“ he’s stuttering, panting while he speaks and he’s surprised it’s even intelligible.
but when you arch yourself a little more, bringing yourself closer into him and your eyes move to meet his—he thinks he might burst right then and there.
or was it when you silently use your other hand to raise your—his—shirt, securing it just under the mound of your breasts to reveal your soft, plump stomach and you look him dead in the eyes when you say, “here. do it on me.”
“what?” he breathes, eyes lidded.
you scoot in closer to him. “cum. on me.”
he doesn’t know exactly what it was that did it for him—the gesture, or your persistence? whatever it was, that was enough for his eyes to roll back and deep, low groan force it’s way out of his throat.
his dark tresses fall around his face, despite the way he kept it in a loose bun. his jaw breaks open, pinched eyebrows and lidded eyes molding across his features the same moment the pumping of his hand staggers.
you moan on your own, nearly grinning under your matching expression when your hand matches the speed of your breaths, and the warm splatter across your stomach is enough to make you finish.
“fuck,” he drawls, voice croaking and head dangling.
your body grows limp, head falling back onto the cushion of your couch. your breaths suddenly become very audible, both yours and geto’s matching as they slowly calm down.
although geto has had countless sexual experiences, this was by far the most intimate thing he has ever done.
he couldn’t stop himself when he leans in to cup your cheek, pressing your warm lips against his and stealing every ounce of breath you had left in your lungs.
your knee presses against his hip, caging him close and pressing his soft lips to yours. you let out a short moan, accepting his endearing kiss despite the fact that you were still trying to catch your breath.
“i love you,” he mumbles, peppering his kisses to your cheek. “y’didn’t have to do that…”
“well it wasn’t really for you.” you snort honestly, smoothing your fingers through his long dark hair. “i needed that.”
his stomach flips, his short kisses never faltering until he raises his chin to plant a longer one right on the middle of your forehead.
“let me get you a towel.” he sighs, using his weakened strength to lift himself off the couch, taking a turn down the hallway where he knew you kept your spare towels in the bathroom. he grabs a small wash cloth, dampening it quickly.
his cheeks were red and flushed, much like the rest of his skin. his forehead was sticky, long black strands sticking to his skin but he paid no mind.
you purse your lips, letting one of your legs lay across the cushions of the couch while the other props next to you, your eyes fall to the rather large, thick, white ropes of cum sitting on your bare stomach. you hardly stifle your chuckle.
something about tipping him over the edge like you did—it made your ego explode.
that’s never happened to you before.
he returns a mere few seconds later with a damp towel in his hand. you allow him to gently wipe it across your own sweaty and flushed skin, leant back against the armrest in peaceful silence.
his soft, smooth hands slide against your dampened stomach, gently pressing his thumb into the plush endearingly.
“are you feeling okay?” he asks, and when you make eye contact you don’t miss the way his pupils grow.
“why wouldn’t i be?”
he shrugs, but inevitably accepts the way your arms open and your knees part to make a slot for him to lay. he presses his face into your upper chest, cheek smushing.
“because you’ve never done anything like that. not with someone else, at least.” his voice comes out a soft mumble. “i just wanna make sure you’re really okay.”
he melts into your loving hold, your legs wrapping around his torso and fingers running through his hair.
“i really am. i love you, suguru—i promise, that was exactly what i needed.” you press a small kiss to the top of his head. “i want to do more, i really do. but—baby steps.”
he gives you a tight squeeze, raising his head to press his cheek into the crook of your neck fondly.
“take as long as you need, my love. i’d never ask you to.” and you know he’s being honest.
his eyes open to lock with yours when he raises his chin. “but i hope you know that if you let me take your virginity, i’m not going to let you just ‘get it over with’.”
you head lulls when you let out a short chuckle, relaying the quote in your head before your hand meets his warm cheek, and you lower your chin just a little to press a kiss to his pink lips.
“when,” you correct. “there’s no other man i’d want to experience my first time with then you, suguru.”
sorry if this is so cheesy and corny and rushed ugh i haven’t posted in so long </3
ghost. / hayakawa aki x gn!reader, 18+, smut, sub aki, handjob, bondage, begging, choking, using the ghost devil power to pleasure aki
this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.
"S-Shit, please, not so tight..."
Aki inhales a sharp breath of air when your knuckles clench, and subsequently, so does the hand of the Ghost Devil. Its grip tightens on his thigh, squeezing the muscle. With a simple twist of your wrist, the devil's arm moves, and Aki's leg is spread open further.
The position he's in is so obscene. One ghostly hand gripping his right thigh, another holding his left, guiding him to spread them open wider and wider. An arm is wrapped snugly around his neck, and when all he can do is uselessly grab at the empty space where the Ghost Devil exists, but can't be touched, he's left to just sit there and squirm.
The devil's arm wraps harder around his neck, and Aki's jaw clenches; his protests turn into meager sputters and gasps for air as it chokes him. You flick a single finger, guiding another hand to appear from thin air and drift between his open legs. It glides over his inner thigh, making his whole body shiver, before its ghostly palm begins toying with the tent in his slacks.
"You're enjoying this."
Aki's eyes go wide, and his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. "No, I'm..." His bottom lip trembles, so he draws it between his teeth, biting down.
He can deny it all he wants. He can claim he doesn't enjoy this, say he hates how a fucking devil is touching him, despises how you're teasing and manhandling him. But the prominent bulge in his slacks, and how damn hard he is says otherwise.
You guide the ghost's hand to rub the thick outline of his cock, gripping and squeezing it through his slacks, and Aki whines, his eyelashes fluttering shut. He reaches down instinctively, but when his hands yet again pass through nothing, he settles with pressing his palms flat to the ground in an attempt to keep himself steady.
Aki's breath comes out harder and harder, his heart hammering in his chest. His bangs stick to his forehead, strands of hair getting in his eyes, and he can feel droplets of sweat dripping down his face. He can't help but squirm his hips as the ghost's hand gropes his dick, sending precum oozing out to dirty his briefs. But when he shifts too much, you simply force the devil to grip his thighs harder in response, until there's no chance of him moving even a muscle.
You bring up your other hand, then, and direct the Ghost Devil to shove another, fourth hand to Aki's back. It presses him forwards, arching his back, while the arm around his neck keeps him firmly in place.
Now this, this is obscene. This is completely disgusting. Here Aki is, compromised by his own subordinate, and by a piece of trash devil. Here he is, one of the most respected devil hunters in his division, restrained with his legs spread as wide as they can manage, his back arched, his chest heaving. And the worst part? He's getting off to it.
Aki's cock throbs incessantly in his pants, aching, dying to be touched — And when the ghost's hand rubs the sensitive tip, even through the layers of fabric, it feels like heaven. Aki's eyes threaten to roll into the back of his head, and he desperately moans, "Oh, f-fuck." He needs more, hell, he needs to beg for more.
"God, please." Aki brings his gaze onto you. He stares at you with such a pathetic look, his eyes glazed over with lust, and his pupils blown, swallowing the deep blue of his iris. When he tries to speak again, he can barely utter the words; his normally resolute voice wavers, threatening to break, his gasps high-pitched. "S-Stop, I- let me... Oh-"
He cuts himself off with a whine when the ghost's hand grips his cock hard. You tilt your head, quietly scoffing, "Tsk, stop whining. Or do I have to gag you, too?"
After a shaky breath in, and a shuddery exhale out, Aki hastily shakes his head. "Sorry- I'm sorry." He swallows, his throat feeling dry and strained, his Adam's apple bobbing. The arm around his neck holds him a little tighter, sending blood rushing to his head. "Just, just please. Touch me."
"Oh? Is this not good enough for you? Maybe I should stop altogether."
"No! No... don't-" Aki shakes his head again, and his hands reach up towards his neck in another feeble attempt to grab the phantom that lingers there, only to leave him gripping at nothing but air. "I just, I-I can't. I want you. Need you to touch it."
You take a step forward, but your strong control on the Ghost Devil remains steadfast. "Yeah? You want me to get you off, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, yes..." Aki's panting now, his mouth parted, his eyelashes fluttering, "You've got to, you have to, I need it-" Your grip clenches — The ghost's hand grabs his thick cock through his slacks and roughly strokes it, eliciting a sharp, needy whine from his lips. "Oh, G-God, please."
With your hand still clenched, you kneel down beside him. Aki never takes his eyes off of you, although his vision is beginning to blur, his head growing hazy. Carefully, and agonizingly slowly, you use your free hand to unbuckle his belt, pulling it out of the loops. Aki can hear every pound of his heart in his ears, he can feel his cock throb as your fingertips grow closer and closer to what he wants and —
"Hands behind your back."
The haze consuming his mind nearly drowns out the sound of your voice. Aki complies as soon as your command registers, his arms shaking when he brings them around his back, just as you asked. You give him the tiniest bit of relief, loosening the ghost's hold so you can secure his hands behind his back at his wrists, bound by his own belt.
You pop the button on his slacks next, then grasp the zipper and drag it down. You instruct Aki to lift his hips, which he does, and then, you're tugging his pants and his briefs down to his thighs.
Your free hand wraps around the base of his pretty cock, squeezing, causing wet precum to leak from his slit, dripping down the length. It's so sensitive, so fucking hard; he must have been dying to be touched by you. Aki groans quietly, his eyes darting down to watch what you're doing. He stares in anticipation as you pump him once with a loose grip, finally giving him a taste of what he's wanted.
You rub the sensitive tip of his cock with your fingertip, echoing a soft, wet sound, and Aki gasps. "Ah, Aki," You coo, "You've been so good for me, haven't you? You deserve this."
"Uh-huh, mhmm," Aki nods, and he tries to buck his hips up into your touch, searching for more relief, but the invisible hands still gripping and spreading his legs prevent him. "I'm soooooo good for you, so good, r-really good. A-Ah, fuck-"
"Ghost, choke him."
The Ghost Devil obliges: a hand comes to wrap around Aki's neck, squeezing firmly, sending tingles over his shoulders, electricity twisting up his spine. His muscles relax, his body slumps, fully submitting to you.
You jerk him off slow at first, squeezing his cock to coax more precum from his tip, until your knuckles are sticky, and his shaft is smeared and soaked. It feels so good, and with the way you have him restrained, with the way the ghost is choking him, making his head feel fuzzy, everything is fuzzy — All Aki can do is focus on the feeling, on the overwhelming pleasure. All he can do is stay still and let you touch him however you please, and God, he fucking loves it, he loves being at your mercy like this. He's drowning in just how good it feels, in how amazing your soft palm feels when you stroke his aching cock.
"Ghost, touch him here. Be gentle."
Then, you're stroking him faster, faster, while a rough hand comes to fondle his balls, squeezing and groping. The contrast between your soft palm and the ghost's calloused grip, the way you toy with every part of him — It has him fucking reeling, and Aki quickly can't contain his whimpers and sputters.
Aki feels pressure begin to build in his chest, settling in the pit of his stomach, warm and enveloping. Fuck, you've hardly been touching him for long, but it's so much, it's too much. It already feels like he's gonna cum, no, like he needs to cum. His moans grow louder and louder, he's practically gasping for air, and he rubs his wrists together restlessly, uselessly struggling against his restraints.
The ghost's grip loosens on his neck and his thighs, letting Aki breathe again, allowing his legs to begin to tremble.
"Does it feel good? Tell me." You ask, twisting your hand when you stroke up the length of his cock.
Aki stutters through breathless pants, "It feels so good, so g-good. I'm... I'm gonna... g-gonna..."
"You wanna cum all over yourself for me?"
Aki cries out, and with nothing holding him down, his hips buck up shamelessly into your grip, fucking himself into your hand. "Yeah, yeah, I want to so fucking bad, you're gonna... gonna make me cum..."
You lean in close to him, and your breath is hot when you whisper into the shell of his ear, your voice low, "Go ahead. I wanna see you make a mess."
Aki's heart skips a beat in his chest. The pleasure builds and builds and builds, and when it boils over, he's whining and chanting your name, his eyes screwed shut, brows tightly furrowed. His cum spills from his cock, dripping down his shaft, down his thighs. Thick globs of white stain the fabric of his crisp, black suit jacket. So much of his cum, such a huge mess.
As he comes down, he catches his breath, and his body slumps once you command the Ghost Devil to finally release him. His muscles feel sore, his throat feels hoarse, his legs won't stop shaking. Drool leaks from the corner of his mouth, and his bangs hide the fucked-out look in his eyes when his head dips.
"Good job, really good job." You praise. You reach down to tug his slacks back up his hips for him, rubbing your filthy hand off on his pant leg. "Let's go back to work. The next time you want me to use my devil on you, all you've got to do is ask."
rosemary. / hayakawa aki x fem!reader, 18+, smut, handjob, overstimulation, edging, sub aki
this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.
Aki came home from work utterly exhausted, so when you told him to relax, pushed him into the loveseat, and asked to let you take care of him, he wasn't going to object. Truthfully, he was needy for you all day, counting down the minutes until he'd get to come home to you, and fantasizing instead of focusing on his job.
This wasn't exactly how he imagined things going, though. Greedy hands tied behind his back, bound at the wrists by his own tie, preventing him from touching you or himself. Teased and edged by you for the past hour, rendering him a complete mess.
Aki gasps, his hips squirming, but when you take your hand off of him, he settles with a desperate and frustrated exhale of breath. "Please," He begs sweetly, his voice raspy and strained, high-pitched and desperate. God, he's adorable like this, begging for you to touch his cock more.
Aki didn't bother to change out of his work clothes, nor did you give him an opportunity to. His hair is messy but still up in its topknot, showing off the blush that covers his cheeks and the tips of his pierced ears. His slacks and boxers are pulled down to his thighs, his suit jacket is falling off his shoulders, and his dress shirt is unbuttoned just enough to expose his chest and the dip of his collar bones.
The loveseat is a bit confined as is, but with his legs spread out wide for you, you're given even less space beside him. You're nearly sitting on the arm of the chair, pressed up close to Aki. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, hear each breath he takes in and every subtle whimper that leaves his mouth.
When your touch finally returns to him, you don't give him everything he wants right away. You trail a single finger up his cock, circling the tip. You feel it twitch and Aki bites back a moan, tugging his wrists at his restraints to no avail, whining your name so faintly you hardly heard it. He's trying his best to stay quiet, but he still groans when your hand wraps around his dick, rutting his hips into your touch.
His pretty cock is leaking so much. He's so hard, so sensitive, cock dribbling pre-cum all over your fingers and all over himself. Your knuckles are sticky and soaked, his thighs and the fabric of his pants are filthy. You stroke him once, echoing a slick, wet sound, before your hand trails up, rubbing the tip with your palm, fingertips playing with his slit.
"Ah! Stopstopstopstop," Aki cries out, his head tossing back, his fingernails digging into his palms and his teeth biting down on his bottom lip in an attempt to keep his composure. "Slow down, slow down, too much… I can't, p-please…"
You take your hand off of him and give him a second to calm down. He's panting, mouth parted, eyelashes heavy and fluttering. His dick is so damn sensitive from the constant teasing and from not being able to cum for so long. He wants your touch badly, needs it, but he's so overwhelmed he can hardly stand himself, so dizzy he feels like he's high.
"You okay?" You ask him gently, whispering into the shell of his ear.
Aki nods, swallowing before he speaks. "Y-yeah," His voice is weak, cracking slightly, despite the fact that he tries to keep it sounding resolute. "I can take it. Keep going."
You oblige, but when you're touching him again, you're stroking his cock slowly and leisurely with an open grip. You're taking your time, not giving him too much, but it feels like you're not giving him enough. It's agonizing, and Aki is so desperate for more friction he can't stop himself. He thrusts into your hand, grinding his dick on your palm, moaning through shaky breaths.
His whimpers are getting louder and louder and fuck, his roommates are still in the other room. They should be sleeping by now, but he needs to be quiet, otherwise he's going to end up waking them. You grab his chin firm, tilting his head to the side and towards you, silencing him with a hurried kiss.
It's messy, and Aki's mouth parts obediently, allowing you to shove your tongue down his throat. His noises become muffled as he moans into your mouth. Your free hand holds the back of his neck, pressing him into you, further deepening the kiss. All the while, you're jerking him off, gripping his dick tighter.
When you pull away, you trail kisses down his jaw. Aki isn't sure what to focus on, melting between the feeling of your soft lips on his skin, on his neck, over his Adam's apple, and your hand toying with his pretty cock. Your mouth moves to his ear, kissing it, nibbling at his earring. You whisper, "Shhh, shhh," into his ear to quiet him down, but he hardly notices.
"Don't st-stop baby, don't stop," Aki begs breathlessly. He's fidgeting so much, and his cock is throbbing, just as hard as his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. He's getting close again, his breathing ragged. You promptly take your hand away before he has the chance to ride out his high.
Aki lets out a high-pitched, loud whine, and your hand immediately flies to cover his mouth. His whimpers are muffled by your palm, and his gaze is pleading when he stares at you, pupils blown and pooled with need.
You keep your voice as strict as possible when you demand, "You need to stay quiet, otherwise I won't keep touching you. Can you do that?"
You've stopped stroking him, but Aki still thrusts up slowly into your grip. His heart skips a beat at you bossing him around. The bridge of his nose crinkles in frustration, but he nods.
You take your palm away from his mouth, but instantly grab his face to keep him looking at you. He's covered in beads of sweat and a bright red flush. His eyebrows are furrowed, his lips are quivering, his face is contorted in pleasure and desire. To say he looks desperate is an understatement.
You ask him, "How bad do you wanna cum?"
"Really, really bad…" Aki murmurs, and he sounds like he can barely speak, stumbling over every syllable. "P-Please… please let… m-me. I wanna cum for you."
Little, pent-up tears are welling in the corners of his eyes, and Aki rubs his bound wrists together in restlessness. Fuck, he sounds so perfect when he begs, when he says please, when he wants to cum for you. He's normally so professional and composed; you're the only one who gets to see him like this, needy and pleading with his dick in your hand. You're the only one who can control his pleasure, and there's no way you can resist him for long.
Finally, finally you start touching him again, and he's too far gone, fucking into your grip shamelessly, moaning like you didn't just tell him to quiet down, "A-ah! Holy sh-shit, f-feels so good…"
"Aki, shhh."
Yeah, he's not even paying attention at this point. Actually, hearing you say his own name just spurs him on further. He's whining again and again, his moans so pretty and a perfect contrast to the normally deep tone of his voice.
"Oh my God, I'm gonna cum, baby, please-"
All Aki can think about is how good it feels, how sensitive his dick is, how badly he needs to cum, and when you take your hand away again, he's unable to stop himself this time. There was no way he could, even if he wanted to. Not when he needs to cum this bad.
His pleasure boils over and he's chanting your name between broken moans as he cums untouched, without your hand on him. He's squirming in his seat, panting, cumming all over his thighs and his pants, cum dripping down his cock.
He came so hard, so much, but you hardly give him any time to recuperate. Your hand returns to wrap around his dick. You jerk it up and down until he's fully hard again, getting the entire length filthy and smeared with his cum.
Aki just barely manages to choke out, "What're you…?"
He trails off, out of breath, and you smile.
"Did you think you were gonna get off that easy?"
To be honest, he thought so, but after how much you teased him already, he should have known better. But cumming without your hand on him felt unsatisfying, and he's already hard again, his mind already swimming with thoughts of you giving him more.
You can go another round for me, can't you?
So, this is what you meant by taking care of him, huh?
cws- mutual masturbation, fingering, blow jobs, gloves, general non-penetrative sex
word count- 5.2
You think that if you spend another second with your coworker you’re going to throw yourself out of the car. You hope your body gets all mangled and unrecognizable so you can inconvenience him as much as possible.
Angel has his long, lithe legs stretched out across the dashboard of your car despite you telling him to get his feet off. He’s staring openly at the side of your face and he has to bite back the urge to laugh at your blatant irritation.
When you first started working with him, you were far more subtle with your attitude. Every time Angel would make you do the paperwork or drive he could see your door-mat good girl mask slipping. In a world with little that holds his attention, you are a refreshing refuge from his dull days. He can’t even bring himself to feel bad for constantly picking on you; it’s just been so long since he’s had any good entertainment.
“Stop staring at me,” you huff quietly.
Angel lets his eyes slowly drag over your face. “There’s nothing else to stare at.”
“Look outside. The stars are out.”
Angel looks. He sees the same stars he’s seen. He’s seen them enough to fill up lifetimes. He returns his attention to you.
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
You huff and your hands clench at the steering wheel incrementally harder. Angel has to stamp down a knowing smile.
“It’s not that I’m mad, I’m just irritated.”
“Why?”
“You, once again, didn’t help with a single thing back there,” you take a deep steady breath to calm yourself. “Would it kill you to just help me out for once? All you do is fuck with me and I don’t get it!”
Angel lets his smile out and he leans his head back. He can feel you look over at him.
“Sorry, when you’ve been around as long as I have, you start having to get creative with your entertainment.”
“Oh, poor you,” you scoff. “I’m so sorry that I’m all you have for entertainment. Just watch movies or read or literally do anything else like a normal person.”
“I’m not a person.”
“That is so far from the point.”
Angel snorts a small laugh and gazes out the window. It’s pitch black with only a few distant city lights to break up the darkness. You’re speeding and Angel feels the exhaustion leave his body the faster you go. It’s an odd sensation, considering how tired he was after the assignment. Though, he isn’t sure why he was tired because he didn’t lift a finger to help you. He much preferred to watch.
“Can we get ice cream?” He asks suddenly.
You shoot a pointed glare his way and gesture to the time displayed in your car. “It’s nearly three in the morning, nothing’s open.”
Angel lets out a deep, exasperated sigh and hopes that you’ll feel bad for him. One of the best things that have ever come out of humanity is 24/7 convenience stores. Surely if he sighs enough you’ll remember that places like that exist.
“Stop sighing, you sound like a child,” you snap. “I really don’t want to go to some shitty convenience store."
Angel starts to sigh, then stops himself. He figures you can only take so much before getting really, truly angry with him.
“Do you have ice cream at your house?”
“Yes,” you answer before thinking and internally cringe. “But you can’t come over.”
“Why not?”
“Because, it’s weird and I don’t like having people over,” you groan and note with aggravation that you’re finally reentering the city. “It’s so late too, look at how empty the roads are.”
Angel lazily looks out the window. It really is empty. He looks back at you and decides that he does not want to go back to his cramped, cold apartment tonight. Not when you’re here and have ice cream at your place.
“Please,” he says and decides to pull out the big guns. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“Make what up?”
“All those times I made you do my work.”
You sneak a suspicious look over at him. It sounds too good to be true and you aren’t sure if he could offer anything that would make up for all of the work he’s pushed onto you. Angel can see the suspicion blatant on your face.
“What do you have to offer me?” You ask and keep your eyes fixed on the road.
Angel allows his smirk to open upon his face. He’s got you now. “Let me stay with you tonight and you’ll find out,” he says, keeping it purposely vague. He just wants to get at your ice cream and sleep on your couch. He figures he can think up something as he goes.
“That sounds very suspicious and very suggestive all at once, I’m impressed,” you snort. Your apartment is near and you weigh your options.
Angel shrugs. “I just want the ice cream, honestly.”
You finally crack your first genuine smile of the night and look over at him. You have to admit that Angel is truly a one-of-a-kind type of beautiful. Even with the way he indifferently looks over at you, you still can appreciate his androgynous, clear features.
“Well, since you’re so honest, and you owe me, you can stay,” you say as you pull into your apartment’s parking lot.
As you lead him up to your unit, you turn to whisper, “Seriously though, you really do owe me for this. And all the other times you made me deal with your shit.”
Angel stares at you and has to suppress another ponderous sigh. He wonders what to offer you. Despite his energy and clear head, he can’t come up with anything. Before he can wrestle with his thoughts any longer, you pull him into your small living room.
“Here, make yourself at home,” you say as you make a beeline for your kitchen. “I only have vanilla.”
Angel shrugs off his suit jacket and loosens his tie. It’s more than irritating having to keep himself in those ridiculous suits all the time. If he got a say in anything, he would opt for much more comfortable clothes.
“Vanilla is fine,” he says.
It’s warm in your apartment, so when you hand him the ice cream, it’s already a little melty from the heat in your hands. A dark thought flashes behind Angel’s eyes. He wonders what it would feel like to touch you. The ice cream helps him forget it.
“So, do you like ice cream?” You ask once you’re both sitting on your couch, facing each other from either end. You feel out of place, which is strange since you’re in your home. It's just the effect Angel has on you, you decide. His cool, aloof demeanor puts you on edge, even in the place you find the most comfort. Figures.
Angel licks it into his mouth and your eyes follow the movement as if they have a mind of their own. Angel notices.
“I do,” he replies after a strange quiet moment. “It’s my favorite thing on Earth, I think.”
You prop your head upon your hand and regard him curiously. When he isn’t actively messing with you, you feel more willing to acknowledge the good side of him. It seems contradictory, thinking that a Devil has a good side, but Angel appears to. Maybe it’s the Angel part of him.
“You must not have done much if that’s your favorite.”
“I don’t get out much.”
“Why not?”
Angel shrugs and pushes his light hair over his shoulder. “Don’t want to, I’d rather stay in.”
“If you like staying in so much why’d you want to come here?”
“You have ice cream,” Angel smiles and holds up his dwindling bowl. He avoids explaining that he’s lonely and that having to sleep another long night on his hard, cheap mattress would drain him even more.
“I’m not really that into ice cream.”
Angel sets the empty bowl aside and glowers at you. “How can you say that?”
You shrug, silently grateful for the banter. “I like it, but I like a lot of other things more.”
“Like what?”
“I like a good movie, driving late at night, days off, and sex better,” you list off matter-of-factly. “All of those things are better than ice cream.”
“None of that is better than ice cream.”
You scoff. “How would you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, sex is definetly better than ice cream.”
Angel feels his eyebrows raise without his permission. “Wrong.”
You feel your brow quirk up. “How would you know?”
Angel sighs and stares at you as if you’ve asked the most ridiculous question he's ever heard.
“I would know because I’ve done it before.”
You stare at him pointedly. More specifically, you stare at his lethal hands, which are folded upon one another softly. Angel’s narrow eyes follow your gaze.
“These don’t get in the way as much as you’d think,” he says slyly and holds his hands up.
“Really? I find that hard to believe.”
Angel arches a brow and looks you over, wondering what your intentions are. You sound vaguely interested. Your interest peaks his.
“Would you like to find out?”
You blink and before you think too much about it, you nod your head. You agree because a part of you really is curious to find out how he does it, and another part is curious to see what he has going on under his white dress shirt. You can reluctantly admit your attraction to him.
“How do we?” You ask, suddenly finding eye contact too much to bear. It’s awkward and you feel like you’ve taken on more than you can handle.
Angel sees you hesitate and leans back into your couch. “Just let me watch.”
“Watch what?”
Angel runs his hand over his eyes and wonders if you really want to do this. He takes a quick sniff to test the air. Under the normal smells of your house, he can faintly scent the telltale bittersweet fragrance of your budding arousal. Being a Devil has its perks.
“Just touch yourself,” he says blankly. “Let me watch.”
Angel says it in such an unbothered tone that it takes you a moment to process his words. He watches as you mull it over and for a moment he thinks that you may ask him to leave.
“Okay,” you say lowly to his surprise. “Is this how it usually goes?”
“Yeah,” Angel hums.
You wordlessly nod and awkwardly smooth your hands over your shirt. Luckily, it's dark in your living room, and the only light is behind Angel, so you can't see his eyes. He can see you perfectly fine though and watches you as you run your hands over yourself. He knows you’re only taking your time because you’re nervous, but Angel’s never been too patient.
“Take your shirt off.”
Your hands still. “Why? Can you even feel what we feel?”
Angel knows you don’t mean it in the way it comes off, so he just says yes.
“Was that rude of me to ask?”
Angel shrugs. He can hear the nerves seeping into your voice and he unexpectedly wishes he could help you relax. “It’s not rude.”
“It makes sense,” you continue and put your hands back on yourself. Angel finds it hard to keep a blank expression as your hands begin to lift your shirt. “You have a human body, mostly. That was just my ignorance talking for me.”
“It’s okay, I’m not entirely human so it’s understandable.”
You hum in response and pull your shirt off in one swift movement. You almost sigh with relief; the shirts you have to wear to work are cheaply made and uncomfortable. Angel’s eyes languidly travel over your exposed skin and if you could see his face, you would catch him tracing his eyes over the soft mounds of your covered breasts and your pulse quickening in your neck.
“Do you like this?” You ask and it comes out shamefully breathy and high. Your arousal confuses you, but it's there.
Angel swallows thickly and answers, “I do,” and you’re pleased to detect interest in his normally smooth voice.
“What should I do?”
Angel leans forward and sits cross-legged on the couch. The light behind him shines dimly through his hair and casts a reddish glow. His halo gleams in the low light and you abruptly wonder if you’re worthy to see him like this. Angel observes you silently as you think.
“Take the rest off.”
You stand and step out of your pants, leaving you in your mismatched underwear. With the new angle, you can see Angel more clearly and you feel horribly out of place. He’s still cross-legged with his head propped up and his sharp eyes are slowly taking you in. His gaze is intense and you feel very exposed under it.
“All of it.”
You nod and before you can let your nerves take over you, you remove the rest of your clothes. Angel doesn’t look outwardly phased, but his pulse quickens as he looks you over.
“What now?” You whisper.
You aren’t entirely sure why you whispered, but the air in the room is quiet and you already feel like you’re disrupting enough. It’s absurd thought that almost makes you laugh out loud; feeling out of place in your own home.
Angel can smell the nervousness on you. It’s in your sweat and visible in the way you shift your weight from foot to foot.
“What do you want?”
You shrug and the motion makes your breasts softly move. “I just want to get off now,” you say. “You’ll have to tell me what to do.”
Angel leans back and opens his legs. “Have you not done this before?”
You scoff. “I have but this is different.”
Angel follows the line of your gaze to his hands. A knowing smile makes its way to his face.
“I have ways to work around this, don’t worry,” he says and pats the couch beside him. “Sit back down.”
You comply and try not to wrap your arms around yourself. His eyes and their weight are something you doubt you’ll get used to.
“Are you not gonna take anything off?” You ask and try to keep the impatience out of your voice.
Angel runs a hand through his soft hair. The motion makes his halo catch a little more of the light.
“I will, not yet though,” he says absentmindedly and reaches into his pockets. He doesn't really plan on stripping down. It isn't safe. “Touch yourself,” he says, it’s an afterthought.
You nod and smooth your hands over yourself. The feverish temperature of your skin shocks you and you wonder just how aroused you actually are. It's hard to tell through your nervousness.
As you slowly feel yourself relax, Angel continues to dig through his pockets. After a moment, he pulls out a pair of thin, black gloves. He places the other items on your coffee table and rests the gloves on the arm of the couch.
“C’mon,” he goads and his attention is completely back on you. “Touch yourself.”
“I am,” you say, running your hands over your perked nipples.
Angel snorts and you can finally sense his interest in you. “Go lower.”
Your hands listen and dip down to your sides. You keep your touches feather-light and it sends a pleasant tickling sensation up your spine.
“Lower.”
You spread your legs a little and Angel has to swallow thickly as he sees the wet lips of your cunt. It shines a little in the dim light and Angel suddenly doesn’t feel very patient.
“Show me how wet you are,” he says and although his voice is still even, you can detect his urgency.
“How can you tell I’m wet?”
“It’s in the air, like perfume,” he explains and his breath hitches when you finally dip your fingers in. “It’s making me dizzy.”
“Sorry,” you murmur and gather up some of your wetness on your fingers.
Angel’s head is spinning as you drag your wet fingers up to your clit and press down. The contact pulls a sweet gasp out of you.
“Are you always so slow?”
“Yeah,” you say with a smile. You feel more relaxed finally thanks to your finger rubbing dutifully on your swollen clit.
“C’mon, what do you usually do.”
“What do you mean?” You use your other hand to sink two fingers into yourself while you continue rubbing against your clit.
“When you’re alone,” Angel explains and you see him reach down to palm himself through his pants. “How do you touch yourself when there’s no one watching you? Are you this slow, or is it a desperate act? I can smell how ready you are, stop taking so much time.”
You swallow thickly and find yourself unable to deny him. He’s so pretty, it would be a shame to keep him from seeing what he wants, you think.
“I always do it like this,” you say and emphasize it by curling your fingers harder inside of yourself.
Angel watches the slick seep out of you and make a mess of your fingers. The sight and scent make his dick throb with impatience in his too-tight pants.
“Right,” Angel mutters and finally pushes his pants down to pull himself out.
You strain your eyes to see but all you can make out is Angel’s fist slowly pumping his cock. Angel sees you squinting and has to suppress the urge to laugh. You look needy with your fingers buried in your cunt and your cheeks flushed, it’s a good look on you, he decides.
“Are you close?” He asks.
You manage a nod and melt further into the soft couch. It’s easier for you to finish when you’re spread out and have your eyes closed, so you do that. Angel keeps his intense gaze on your fingers pumping in and out of your cunt and your thumb dragging itself over your clit. A light sheen of sweat makes you seem to glow in the soft light.
“Are you?” You ask and the breathless tone of your voice surprises you. You should’ve expected it though, you really are close and it's hard to think straight with so much blood rushing from your head.
“I am.”
You both fall quiet and the only sounds are Angel’s spit-slicked hand massaging himself and your fingers furiously bringing you to your peak.
“You gonna cum?” Angel asks and it sounds cocky.
“Yeah.”
“Go ahead,” he says and suddenly spills into his hand with a quiet groan.
You jerk your fingers faster while grinding down harder onto your puffy clit. As you squeeze your eyes shut, you feel the relief of your peak wash over you, like a rubber band finally snapped.
Angel watches as you come down and melt into the couch. You look endlessly comfortable and boneless. His dick isn’t done though and he always listens to whatever his body wants.
“Come over here,” he says after giving you a moment to collect yourself.
As you move to sit between his spread legs, Angel grabs a condom from the small pile of his belongings on your table. You watch curiously as he rolls it over his still hard cock.
Angel catches your eyes and you don’t miss the way his mouth quirks up. “Go turn a light on, it’s too dark in here. I wanna be safe.”
You stand and oblige, flicking on one of your ambient lights. It casts the room in a soft, warm glow. It's much better than your harsh overhead lights. In the new lighting, you’re finally able to get a good look at Angel.
To your surprise, he’s visibly aroused. You can blatantly see it in the flush of his fair skin, the way his dick throbs inside of the condom, and the way his eyes shamelessly drag over your naked body. He’s still clothed, which you suppose is necessary, though a small part of you wishes to see more of him.
Angel stares you down, appreciative of the light. It's easier to take you in this way. You’re still shining with a thin layer of sweat and wetness and cum sticks to your thighs. Angel wishes, not for the first time, that he could pull you down to sit over his face and let him dip his tongue deep inside of you. He lets himself imagine how you would taste. On his tongue, he tastes the phantom flavors of salt and sweet and something inexplicably you. It’s dangerous to imagine, though, so he forces himself to acknowledge what is real and standing before him.
“What now?” You breathe out. Angel can’t take his eyes off of the way your breasts softly rise and fall in tandem with your breathing.
Angel nonchalantly gestures to his cock as though the action tires him. “Well, as you can see, I’m still wanting to go. I don’t really want to do it myself, I’m too tired.”
You gaze down at him with a look that vaguely reminds him of all those times he intentionally irritated you. Then, he remembers that he promised to make all of that up to you and he nearly sighs in exasperation. He wonders why he promised you that. It’s too much work to look after his own needs sexually. Adding another person is too much. But he promised.
With a deep, bothered sigh, Angel says, “Okay, if you do something for me, I’ll do something for you. It’ll be quick, I promise.”
“You better do something for me,” you mutter playfully and settle between his spread legs.
You try and seem irritated at not receiving any attention, but truth be told, you’re excited to put your mouth on him. Even if it is through a condom. Angel leans back and puts his gloves on slowly, as though every movement he makes takes an immense effort.
“I will, don’t worry about it.”
You arch a brow and before you feel the need to reply with something snarky, you silence yourself and place the head of his cock on your tongue. The condom gives it a potent latex taste but you hardly mind. The way Angel groans softly and runs a gloved hand over your hair puts any complaints you have to rest.
“I’ve actually- I’ve never done this,” Angel says breathlessly.
He wishes he would’ve sooner though. The way your throat wraps around him and how your eyes begin to water is addicting. You can’t answer him, you just take a deep breath through your nose and swallow him deeper.
You didn’t expect him to have such a pretty dick. It curves up a little and touches the back of your throat, even when you barely take him in. Even though he’s clothed you can see a trail of fine reddish hair leading up into his shirt. Other than that you don’t see any hair. Through the condom, you can feel a thick, pulsing vein resting heavily on your tongue. He even smells pleasant, which is a relief to you since most men don’t have the best hygiene.
“Go a little faster,” he says with a contented sigh.
Everything Angel does is done with little urgency, so you’re not too surprised to learn that the same carelessness carries over into this. He looks even more tired than you’re used to seeing him. His pleasure has his eyes half open and his lips slightly parted. The image of him is seared into your mind and you doubt you’ll ever forget it.
You oblige him and bob your head a little quick. Each time you swallow his entire length, you’re rewarded with a little gasp or groan. It’s addictive and you want to hear more. You go quicker and suck a little harder which makes the tears prick at your eyes more.
Angel gazes down at you and feels himself throb at the sight of your watery eyes. Your eyelashes clump together, there’s that much wetness there.
The sight makes more blood rush south and his hand grips your hair for the first time. “I’m almost there,” he says slowly.
You groan and the vibration sends an electrifying charge of pleasure up Angel’s spine, and he finishes with a long, satisfied sigh. Angel lets you pull away and he tosses the used condom into a nearby bin.
“Are you really that tired?”
Angel is melted into the couch and his eyes are closed. He looks like he’s just run a marathon.
“You sucked the energy out of me,” he says with a sly smile and doesn’t even bother to open his eyes.
“C’mon,” you huff and move so you’re straddling him. “My turn, remember?”
Angel finally cracks open his eyes and regards you cooly. Your naked body on top of him is something he wouldn’t mind seeing more often. Part of him wants to curl up on your couch and sleep, he’s sated and spent. The other part hones in on your cunt and the wetness still sticking to your skin. He did promise you.
“Right, okay,” Angel moves and carefully positions you so that you’re straddling one of his clothed thighs. One of his gloved hands moves to rest upon the soft flesh of your hips.
“What do you wanna do?”
Angel answers you by pressing his thumb to your clit.
“I don’t usually do this,” he mutters under his breath. “But I promised you. Gotta make all of that up to you.”
You sigh and grind down on Angel’s fingers and squeeze your thighs around his. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t actually dislike you that much.”
Angel meets your eyes and raises one of his eyebrows.
“I try not to break any promises,” he says in a low voice. “Besides, I’m enjoying this more than I thought I would.”
“Really?” It’s hard to speak with Angel’s fingers teasing you. They won’t go where you want them, always fluttering around your cunt and pressing fleeting touches onto your clit. The gloves give his hands a smooth, intoxicating texture.
“Yeah.”
Finally, Angel lets his fingers sink into you. Your cunt sucks them in greedily and Angel doesn’t waste any time before exploring your insides. You’re warm and your wetness feels strange against the glove. Angel briefly wants to take the glove off and just feel you for real.
“Go a little faster,” you say and you don’t even feel embarrassed for asking.
Angel nods and curls his fingers, searching for that sweet, spongy spot inside of you. He finds it and presses down to confirm that it is what he thinks it is. You hang your head forward and groan and he knows he’s found it.
“In return for this, let me sleep here,” he says and pulls another whine from you with his lithe fingers.
You manage to hold your head up to look at him and to your surprise, your face is closer to his than it's ever been. You can clearly see him, even in the dim light, and you can’t help but stare. His face is so smooth and clear. A red flush is the only thing disrupting his fair complexion.
“Okay,” you choke out.
It’s getting hard to think and hold yourself up. Angel’s added more fingers, you don’t know how many, but the stretch is delicious and sends a chill through your heated skin.
“Yeah, I’m really tired,” Angel murmurs, and his eyes are focused on his fingers plunging into you. “I’m gonna go to sleep after this. It’s been a long day.”
“It has,” you sigh and clench down on his fingers. “I needed this.”
Angel hums and begins to draw little circles on your clit. “I can tell.”
You brace yourself on Angel’s narrow shoulders and your face is dangerously close to his. It's getting increasingly harder to suppress the urge to plant a kiss on his soft-looking lips.
“How much would I lose if I just- just kissed you really fast?”
Angel presses his mouth into a thin line and you know that you’ve asked too much of him.
“You shouldn’t think about that,” he says, but your words have made the wheels start turning in his head.
It would be so easy to just lean forward and taste you. He almost does, then realizes that if he takes too much, he may never get to do this again.
“Don’t say things like that,” he says. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
You sigh and know that you aren’t thinking straight; it's impossible to with you having fallen into the rhythm or rocking your hips and Angel’s thumb pushing into your clit. You find it very hard to keep your hands away from his face. He’s so pretty, you want to see more of him.
“What do you want me to do?”
You shrug and look down. Angel’s hands are firm and confident in their ministrations. You then realize that he probably isn’t nearly as tired as he lets on.
“Nothing different, I’m getting there,” you say.
Angel nods and the movement sends his hair falling across his shoulders and you can’t resist. You thread your fingers in his hair and tug, watching his face carefully.
“My hair is safe.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, now just concentrate on cumming,” he says and turns away. Not before you spot the faint flush rising in his cheeks.
“Yes sir,” you mumble sarcastically, rock your hips a little harder, and close your eyes.
It's easy to lose yourself to the sensations. Your senses are filled with him and he quickly takes over your thoughts until all you’re thinking is: Angel, Angel, Angel.
Angel smells faintly sweet and his scent is intoxicating when mixed with your shared arousal in the air. You wonder if he takes his time in the shower to be able to smell so good. Then, you picture him in the shower and feel more blood rush to your engorged clit.
Angel feels the nub throb under his touch and he presses harder. “You are close, aren’t you,” he muses and you can’t form a coherent thought, let alone an answer.
“Shit- I’m-” you can’t finish because your high interrupts you. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to rest your head on Angel’s shoulder to ride it out.
Angel has to lean out of your way as you shake and groan on top of him. You’re clamping down on his fingers like a vice.
“You alright?” Angel hesitantly pulls his fingers out of you and instinctively brings them to his mouth. You do taste like he imagined.
You need and will yourself to cease shaking. Angel sits still under you and lets out a yawn. “Can I still sleep here?”
“Yes,” you say and peel yourself off of him. “Take my bed.”
Angel shakes his head and lays down the moment you move from the couch. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone so tired in your life. His reddened skin and sleepy gaze make him look like an ethereal statue.
“This is fine,” he says and waves you away. “Go to sleep, you look tired too.”
You snort and start to walk into your room, calling a quick, “Goodnight!” over your shoulder.
As you rest under your covers, you think that you may not hate working with him so much anymore.
your loving gaze and pinched eyebrows was enough to pull your boyfriend into a trance, mapping every inch of your soft skin—so full of life and body so warm underneath his, gojo couldn’t help but feel the buzz of excitement.
his eyes—so bright and blue you could almost see your reflection in them alone—softened at your quiet plea. he knew you were nervous.
his cold, pale fingers brush against your warm cheek as he hums, “a little.” he plants a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. “do you trust me, baby?”
your legs wrap a little tighter around his waist, locking him in place before you nod wordlessly to give him your answer, despite the fact that he could feel and hear your heart pumping quicker in your chest.
“h-how badly?” you murmur, frown significantly growing and he couldn’t help but chuckle just a little.
“not too much. it’ll feel like a pinch,” he takes your chubby cheek between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing softly just to watch you grin. “and then you’ll get a little lightheaded. but i’ll be with you the whole time, sweet thing.”
he just has so much patience when he’s with you. he’s grown to move at your own pace—and maybe it’s because he’s been alive for so long that he hasn’t felt any need to rush through things.
and well, he may love you a lot, but gojo is a bit of a liar.
he knows you well enough to know just how sensitive you are, physically and emotionally. and he knows well enough that even the softest nibble—even with his dull teeth—causes you to squirm.
so he can predict how you’ll react very well. and in some ways, that excites him a little more then it should.
“what if you take too much?“ you say nervously.
his head shifts to the side, white hair swaying momentarily. “doesn’t sound like you trust me, angel.”
you frown, taking in a deep breath. “n—i do!” your head lowers shyly, “‘m just nervous.”
his hand continues to cup your cheek, fingers sliding against your skin so softly it could lull you to sleep. he holds a small, closed-mouth smile to his perfect pink lips before he leans in and plants a much needed kiss to your lips.
your fingers card through his soft, white hair—fingernails sliding through his scalp to keep him close while your back silently arches into his chest. he held you close, and you could already feel yourself growing loopy just from his kiss alone.
when he pulls away, you feel significantly lighter.
“i promise, i wouldn’t do a thing to harm you. you’ll only feel it for a second. then it’s over, my love. all done.” gojo whispers, lowering his head to he could tilt and press gentle kisses to the opposite cheek he was holding.
your lip slides between your two teeth, and a small sigh escapes them. “‘kay. ‘m ready.”
you could feel the way his grin grew as his lips press against your cheeks, and the longer pop kiss he placed to your jaw made your body loosen.
his dazzling blue eyes meet yours again, but you were hardly paying attention to those. just the sharp, pearly white fangs he had on display as he smiled.
“i love you so much,” he coos, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat wash over you.
his thumb soothes little circles to the spot near your ear, his own long and thin, pale fingers cupping the side of your head when he lowers himself to your neck.
just a pinch. you repeat, not allowing your increase of nerves ruin his fun, even if he was utterly aware.
“just a pinch,” gojo whispers, almost like he could hear inside your mind—which, despite the majority of his abilities as a vampire; that was not one of them.
his breath fans your neck when you raise your chin allowing access to the chilling veins that litter your skin.
you smell so nice—whether it was perfume or just you.
your eyes squeeze shut, eyebrows pinching before you can feel it.
his teeth forcefully poke their way through your thick layer of skin, and you immediately seethe. legs that had been loose around his waist now wrap around him tight, pressing him against you.
“ah—” you quietly croak, arms tightening around him in a similar fashion all the while he felt like he was approaching heaven.
his teeth immediately sunk into your flushed, warm neck, blood washing straight through his body as he sucked and he could almost—nearly—moan just from the feeling.
he’s tasted many people in his life. and yet, not a single one comes close to just how you taste right now.
he knew you’d taste good. he thinks he could’ve bet his life on it.
your body rushes with this surge of energy, limbs so tense you were practically squeezing him to death, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“‘toru—ah—it hurts,” you whine, frown so prominent now that he’d likely feel remorse if he was able to see it.
and just like the wave of energy hit, you instantly feel your eyelids grow heavier.
your limbs fall loose, legs unraveling from his waist and just resting much like your arms. your body grew cold, little needles poking into your skin at a rapid pace. you could feel a faint sheen of sweat accumulating around your forehead, and your eyes open to reveal dizzy surroundings.
gojo feels like he’s on cloud nine. his body buzzes with a rush of life, growing and seeping into him deep while he savors every last drop you’re willing to give him—and he’s willing to take from you.
he may know this hurts, and feels weird—but he was not going to let you die. absolutely not.
“you taste so sweet, my love.” his teeth pull from your neck slowly, feeling your body twitch underneath him as he does.
when he finally separates away from your neck, he can immediately note just how paler you’ve gotten. that normal flush and warmth to your body was long gone, and your skin looks dull.
his blinding blue eyes scan yours—watching your eyelids fight to stay open and he can only smile.
his fingers smooth your hair just like you had done to him, rubbing the side of your head to soothe you—and when your head lulls to the side his smile grows.
the two deep marks in your neck looked so natural. he had only wished they would stay there forever. sure, he can mark and litter your skin as much as he wants with his lips—but this was an obvious tell that you were taken. off limits.
“how do you feel?” gojo asks softly, fully aware that you’re so out-of-it, you probably don’t even understand him at the moment.
your eyes were closed, limbs so weak you couldn’t even move if you wanted to.
“tired.” you moan weakly, leaning into his touch. he smiles, brushing his fingertips along the side of your cheek.
“i know, baby. but you did so well. so perfect. taste perfect.” he praises, and he knows if you were more conscious right now—and had the proper amount of blood in you—your face would’ve lit up and you’d be on fire.
“i did?” you ask softly, and he can’t help but lean down to plant short kiss to your cold forehead.
“you did. thank you, angel.” he grins, revealing deep red lips and stained teeth.
i don’t do kinktober but i really wanted to write this LOL. i’ve never written anything like this either so i hope it was at least a little okay
contains…coworker!geto. office au. slight exhibitionism. maybbeee slight dubcon(??). coercion(?). unprotected sex. mentions of a blowjob.
coworker!geto where you’re both competing for the same promotion, and no matter how hard you’ll work—showing up extra early, staying up late at nights, coming to the office with your hair messy and eyes droopy from such lack of sleep—he’ll still show up looking the exact opposite like he wasn’t even trying.
coworker!geto who’s such a little asshole. he knows you’re trying so hard to beat him, but your boss is still leaning more towards him.
coworker!geto who still teases you about everything that you do. he knows he’s got this promotion in the bag and he can’t help but gloat but hey! you started it. you’re just so uptight and bossy, it was getting so annoying. someone needed to put you in your place.
coworker!geto who got so sick and tired of your strict whining and complaining, that he starts to pull the strings a little bit. and he was more then pleased to see the way your face shifts when he lets his eyes narrow and his smirk grow, whispering filthy phrases in your ear and watching you shrivel from the contact.
coworker!geto who learns very quickly as to why you’re such a pain in the ass. “oh, you just needed to be fucked, huh? just needed some dick?“ he chuckles while bullying his thick cock deep inside of you, leaving you bent over his small desk. the dumb, fucked-out look on your face has him grinning devilishly, and he can’t help but stare at the creamy ring wrapped around the base of his cock. “it’s okay sweetheart. i’ll give it to you.”
coworker!geto who just loves seeing your face every time he comes into the office. especially when he can nearly see the heat radiating off of your cheeks when you avoid eye-contact and profusely try to act like it never happened. even if you’ll come knocking on his glass door hours later, dropping to your knees just below his desk.
coworker!geto who definitely gets the new promotion, and the new big office he’s more then excited to fuck you in.
ur aki thirst is hella hawttt asdfjsuebzjdnd then how about aki corrupting his junior virgin!f reader, wdyt???
+ f!reader (she/her). corruption kink. fingering. blowjob. nasty aki <3. pervert!aki. not edited, came straight out of my coochie. cumshots. unprotected. mentions of puppy eyes + leash. aki jacking off. dirty talking. lmk if i missed anything!
—
the first time aki hayawaka laid his eyes on you in the headquarter’s lobby, he was struck by the immense need to make you his. the new recruit, a shy devil hunter who couldn’t meet his eyes, would fidget under his stares, lashes fluttering as you tried to peek at him.
it’s cute, you’re cute, he thinks. aki believes it’s your innocence that renders him completely out of his mind every night in the shower. a fresh devil hunter who probably doesn’t know how to finger herself— the thought has driven him jacking his cock off until he squirts thick cum and watch it snake down the tiled wall of the bathroom. he would come out limping with sick and perverted thoughts of teaching you until you become so good at receiving his cock with your pussy and mouth that you wouldn’t be able to live without it. you wouldn’t be able to live without him.
at first you were a challenge, yes, squirming and whining the first time he wraps his mouth around your nipples. he would ask you the questions: “have you ever got your titty sucked?” “have you ever fingered yourself? rubbed your clit while you pinch these tight nipples?”. questions that’s always been answered by a whiny “no” and a pussy so wet. with a smile so endearing, he’d reply then, “well, try putting in one finger in your cunt tonight. tell me how it feels tomorrow, i’ll wait.” and the next day, “how about two fingers? rub your clit, too.”
these advices, the ones he has been willing to demonstrate in empty cubicle stalls in the headquarter’s comfort room. with your underwear and pants rolled down to your knees, you propping one foot up on the toilet bowl, with aki fingering your sweet pussy with two fingers. of course, it doesn’t end there. not after telling him you have never performed blowjob on anyone before. and so while your fingered pussy pulses and drips arousal, you kneel before him, glazed eyes, tongue out, letting aki tap his cock and smear his precum all over the soft muscle.
little did you know, aki’s lessons are meant for something big: like spreading you open, finally on his bed, letting you experience the taste of a good fuck. and good did he fuck you the first time. he’s greedy and hungry, pitching his hips over and over, ramming into you so deep you squealed and squeezed him so hard he came with hot spurts of cum shot straight to your pussy. he fucked you all night— he’d basically squirted watery cum on your stomach, legs, pussy folds, and tits— doing so much as to wipe his slit against your nipple. his balls had been sapped, and he was trembling, gasping, eyes crossing.
aki believes that months of corrupting your innocence had been worth it— more than worth it. he meant, not all men would have a pretty girl waiting at their door, all naked except for a leash wrapped around her neck, pussy already slabbering, greeting him with those puppy eyes while begging, “fuck me, aki, please?”… right?
contains…newly established relationship. bf!geto. virgin!reader. no curses / sorcerers. college au. wet dream. (m) masturbation.
geto suguru has never once been in a relationship where it didn’t rely on sex.
after every argument, it would be resolved with sex. after every little complaint; sex. even after the happiest moments, it would always result in sex.
sex was the only constant in every single one of his relationships. he’d never be generous without the ill-intent of hoping to get something out of it. he spent the majority of his early adulthood just hopping from hookup to hookup, relationship to relationship.
he never even planned to (so called) “settle down” at this point.
but it happened. way quicker then he expected.
you stumbled into his life on a complete accident. he quickly hit it off with you, flirted with you, and when you told him you weren’t interested in having sex just yet—he found himself hardly caring all that much.
he found himself becoming excited to spoil you with gifts, shower you with praises and hold you so affectionately without even the thought of sexual advancement at play. he just wanted to be with you.
and taking the time to learn more things about you, stay up at night talking and able to spend an entire day together only going as far as kissing—he was quickly wrapping himself around your little finger.
he wouldn’t even think about sex that much anymore.
but the times he would—those were hard…
your hair was splayed all across the silken bedsheets, body and face flushed and sweaty from the hours you’ve spent lying underneath him. your neck was painted with perfect purple blotches. you looked captivating, and he thinks he could get lost in you forever.
at this point, geto wasn’t even caring about his own pleasure. just your eyes, and your lips—letting out the most symphonic moans he had ever heard. you were so fragile, so soft. he held you like glass under his fingertips.
but it wasn’t real. he quickly realized that when he woke up alone in a pool of his own sweat glossing over his skin. his room—still dark even after hours of sleeping—was feeling hot and sticky. and he was just so…so hard.
“shit,” geto groans, sitting up slowly to take a look down at his own bulge straining in his boxers.
it wasn’t rare of him to wake up feeling like this. to wake up with his boxers painted white from a suggestive dream overnight. but he’s never had one of you.
and now, he almost feels guilty.
whether it was because of the way his hand was slowly inching down his torso to tug his erection free of its restraint, or if it was because he was so much harder then he’s ever been after a night like this. either way, he was feeling guilty.
“‘m sorry—“ he mutters to the silent room, no one around to hear such a quiet apology as his hand wraps around the base of his cock.
although you’re not so much of a prude to feel disgusted with your boyfriend currently jerking off to the thought of you.
the thought of your lips, soft and foreign to wrapping around his glossy tip. nimble fingers sliding up and down his length, and watching the way your eyes grow wide because of such. his hands lacing your hair around his fingers, loosely but sloppily holding your hair while you struggle to even take him halfway.
in fact, you’d feel a little flattered.
but he doesn’t know that. and all he can think as he tips his head back, letting moans and desperate sighs part his lips as the feeling of his thick white ropes of cum leak down his knuckles—is that he’s sorry he can’t control himself.
he’s sorry he can’t finish without the thought of his pretty little virgin girlfriend and her pretty, pretty perfect lips.
contains…kissing. fluff. bf!geto. geto is very much in love. no curses / sorcerers. maybe ooc!geto?? drabble. not proofread.
geto’s hand was cold where it cupped your jaw, fingers parting to make room for your ear while his lips moved so graciously against yours. his other hand squeezed the fat of your waist, just gently sliding up and down that small patch on your stomach.
the goosebumps that litter the tops of your skin felt desperate for more. his lips were already sucking you in, spiraling you down the tunnel that was graffitied with nothing but geto written all over the walls. your mind had no other outlet, just glued to the man who laid above you and held you so close. his knee parted your thighs, causing you to wrap your leg and both of your arms around the very man you loved.
“mm, sugu—“ you chide, not trying very hard to push him away.
he knows how to kiss you. he knows it so well that you couldn’t imagine being kissed any other way. he knows when to go slow, to have his lips move against yours so passionately you’ll melt in his hands.
and he knows when to be rougher. cupping your cheek, sure, but the kiss wouldn’t be as slow and sensual— just plain filthy. spit coating your lips, tongue exploring your mouth like it hasn’t before. he likes it messy, usually. but now, he was so gentle it’s like he’s playing with glass.
“sugu—aren’t we supposed to be making dinner?” you laugh, forcing your chin up to pull your lips from his.
you can feel his smile against your throat when he plants a couple kisses.
“mm…yeah. but i jus’ wanted to say hi.” he chuckles, opening his eyes to look up at you.
“you said hi to me when you came over two hours ago.” you snort, looking down the instant you feather your fingers through his loose, black hair. you just love the way it frames his face.
your lips are plump and soft, and he wants to wrap them around his again but he holds back. for a minute, at least.
he slides his arm underneath your waist, in which you slightly arch so he could cup your back a little easier.
“okay, but—“ he drawls, resting his cheek on your collarbone, almost burying his nose in the crook of your neck. “i can’t say hi again? didn’t know there was a limit.”
you roll your eyes playfully, tangling your fingers to keep his head close before you give his strands a slight tug. he raises his chin upon instinct, watching you smile on your own.
“of course you can.” you tease, lifting your head to brush your lips against his. he didn’t waste a second capturing them again—keeping the same loving pace that made your head spin. he knows how to keep you on your toes. he knows how to keep you addicted—almost exactly like how addicted he is with you.
your skin felt so warm against his hands. your lips felt so perfect against his. he doesn’t think he’s ever felt a pair of lips more suited for his then your own—and he doesn’t ever want to feel any other pair.
you let out the softest hum. whether it was a signal to him that you should stop, or even just a sign to keep going, he pulls away to watch your eyes flutter open.
you looked so pretty too. you always do, though. but geto thinks you look prettiest like this.
with your haired sprawled across the couch cushions. your lips flushed from his doing. your eyelashes thick and pupils blown when you look up at him. gaze so loving and saturated. he could almost forget about all of his usual responsibilities, getting lost in your touch.
“okay, okay. we can make dinner.” he lets out a faux groan, pressing his hand to the cushion beside your head to force himself away.
your hand was quicker though, grasping onto the back of his neck and applying pressure so he couldn’t go anywhere.
your eyes flick from each of his sparkling, dark irises, to his perfect, pink lips—glossy from your doing.
“no—no,” you hum, allowing him to fall back into you softly, and tying your fingers through his hair once again.
Its not levi,but can i pls ask for some gojo x female reader comfort?im having an awful day and im starting to cry 🥺 i would love to read ur writing 🥺💜
pairing: gojo x gn!reader
synopsis: the three times you give gojo a love letter and the one time he returns the favour / high school au
warnings: 1.5k words, fluff fluff fluff, swearing maybe?? idk i'm the writer and i swear a lot, NO PRONOUNS!
a/n: i loved writing this heheh, 3+1 tropes my beloved. also i hope everything is okay anon! this message was sent a while ago, i'm sorry i couldn't post anything earlier but regardless, if you manage to see this then i wish u all the love <3 thanks for dropping by and i hope this managed to cheer you up in some capacity! @limitlesshq i posted it hehe
you approach him that fateful day with an unimpressed expression, a small letter sealed with a kiss between your hands, "hey, stupid."
gojo turns around, face widening into a smile once he notices you approaching him, he straightens up a little, standing taller despite him towering you regardless. "y/n! to what do i owe the pleasure?"
coming to a halt before him, you hand him the love letter that you've been nursing for the past ten minutes, simply trying to find him as you zip through the hallways.
"for you," you mutter. gojo feels his heart come to a stop when he sees a pink card in the shape of a love heart in your hands. there's a scented sticker on there too. his face morphs into a huge grin, unable to contain his elatedness, not when he's been waiting for this moment forever, dreaming of the day when you would-
"-it's not mine," his world dulls, "it's from a girl in class b. wanted me to give it to you."
gojo takes the piece of paper, his happy expression now turned sour as he looks at the offensive piece of thing.
you pat him on the shoulder, "what's got your smile turning upside down?"
"nothin'"
slinging your bag over your shoulder, you wave goodbye to the white-haired before embarking on your way home and he stands there, utterly defeated. this was the worst way to end the day.
gojo is no stranger to love confessions, receiving them more often than not, whether it be in the form of chocolates, flustered students who have trouble containing their cool around the heavenly man, or pretty letters with scribbles of love declarations, gojo satoru has discarded every one of them.
he's flattered. really, he is, but the only person he wants a confession from is the one who is walking away from him at this very moment.
***
the second time you give gojo satoru a love letter, his heart does that stupid thing again, but it quiets down when it recalls the first encounter. he captures a glimpse of the handwriting and immediately knows it's not yours.
"got a delivery for gramps," you joke, dropping the letter into his textbook, "another one. upperclassman above wanted to give this to you actually, said to leave the message that he was doing this for shits and giggles but he seemed really flustered so... i don't know."
"thanks," gojo murmurs, scanning the paper. he notices you walking away from the corner of his eye. "hey, y/n, wait."
you turn around at look at him expectantly with the slight smile that's always managed to brighten his day.
"would you like to visit the new dog café soon?" asks gojo.
"of course! just text me and i'll be there. cya 'toru."
"see you."
he frowns when you walk away, fingers absentmindedly playing with the love letter as gojo yearns for your presence once more. he didn't get to see enough of that smile yet.
***
the third time you give gojo satoru a love letter, he gets restless.
"look what i got," you greet as you approach the white-haired man perched on a park bench during lunch. his best friend, geto, sat beside him. you wave a love letter in your fingers, "delivery for gojo satoru?"
"you're looking at him right now," geto answers for gojo, who has been frowning ever since he caught sight of the paper in your hands.
another love letter that wasn't from who he wanted it to be from.
"here. it's from a student in the grade below but they're gorgeous, i'd shoot my shot if i were you," you say jokingly, pushing the letter towards gojo who takes it gingerly from you. he briefly scans the letter before closing it. you don't make a comment on how uncharacteristically silent he seemed about the confession.
you expected him to gloat in his best friends face before making fun of his pull game but you suppose everyone has moments of maturity.
"so, what're you up to these days, y/n?" questions geto.
"oh you know, being a delivery man for gojo's admirers. job sucks by the way, means i have to trek all around school just to find the elusive heartthrob with little compensation. maybe i'll start charging," you chuckle at the last part, lightly shoving gojo's shoulder. "anyways, i'd love to stay and chat but i gotta blast. see you both around-"
gojo cuts you off, effectively capturing your attention with an urgent "-wait, where are you going? can't you sit with us?"
you seem to be caught off-guard by his sudden proclamation, not that he could blame you.
"thanks for the invite, but i promised to help someone out. hopefully it's not making a love letter for the great gojo satoru, because the things i've witnessed on your behalf is terrifying. but i'll see you two around!"
gojo watches pitifully as you walk away, slumped over and defeated.
geto rolls his eyes, "you're really pathetic."
"oh c'mon. i can't help it."
"you can't help it? seriously? you capture the hearts of everyone on campus yet can't manage to get the one you really want? loser behaviour, how can you have so many bitches yet act so bitchless?"
"i'm not a loser."
"in y/n's eyes you must be."
gojo sighs, "that's not nice. nor is it very encouraging."
"it's not meant to be encouraging because i'm getting sick and tired of you always complaining about not getting a love letter from y/n. if you're so sick of waiting then go give y/n the letter instead."
gojo has a revelation in that very moment.
***
the first time gojo satoru gives you a love letter, he's all nerves and jitters because he spent the majority of the school night creating this stupid letter. he throws away draft after draft, cursing over every little mistake he makes with the reasoning that this had to be perfect.
the homework he had to do that night lay discarded.
call him silly, really, you should call him a fool for spending all night on this, drafting some message that you'll probably cringe at, but he approaches you the next day with a thumping heart. the day when you agreed to meet at the dog cafe.
he meets you outside your house and not too long after, you appear, all dressed in your favourite outfit.
as you approach, tou notice the envelope in his hands. it's crisp, clean and definitely one of gojo's standard. wonder who gave it to him and what's inside.
"hey," you greet him with a quick hug, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. gojo returns the favour, "thanks for offering to drive."
"no problemo. always happy to be at a pretty person's service."
you ignore his last statement, "ready to go?"
"sure, i just have something for you first."
he hands you the envelope wordlessly, accompanied by a little smirk (that expertly masked the way he felt inside) and your brows furrow in confusion. it's not until you turn it around that it dawns upon you, the penmen-ship, the way it's your nickname that only gojo calls you scribbled on the front with a little heart that's so messy yet so him- you almost want to throw up from how fast your heart is racing.
"this isn't what i think it is, right?" you muttered, holding up the letter between two fingers, "please tell me it's not what i think it is."
gojo feels his heart sink to the ground.
"this looks like a love letter and it's so nice so if i open it and you turn out to be pranking me i am going to go home and never speak to you again-"
"what? of course it's a love letter? i didn't spend all night making that for you to doubt my feelings for you!" he clenches his chest in faux-pain, "how dare you! breaking my heart dressed so prettily. you know how many people would love to receive a letter from me? i bet nanami would be more grateful-"
you cut him off with a laugh, closing the distance as your hands reach up to cup his face. you wonder if he can hear how loud your heart is hammering and gojo wonders if you can feel how fast his heart is thrumming underneath your fingertips. "you really are something else, 'toru."
gojo softens- lovestruck, if you will, absolutely enchanted at the way you’re smiling at him so gently that he feels like he’s on cloud nine. but if he has to stare at your lips for one more second then he just might break, “are you gonna kiss me senseless or am i gonna have to do it?” asks gojo.
contains…fluff, established relationship. slight angst at the end. just a short drabble. not proofread.
getou likes to play a little game with himself.
he gets home from work late each night. the early hours of the morning tend to get to you too—being so used to hearing the dark haired man creep into your bedroom well past you’ve gone to sleep. so you’ve grown accustomed to following his sleep pattern.
so the game he likes to play is; “where’s my girlfriend sleeping this time?”
he knows you try to stay up to the point where you can greet him when he comes through the door properly, but you can’t push yourself to stay up as late as you’d like.
usually, he finds you on the couch, passed out with a half eaten bowl of popcorn in your lap and head hung over the armrest. only sometimes does he find that you’ve surrendered, and tucked yourself into bed. and a few times does he find that you fall asleep in the most absurd places—the kitchen table, bathtub, on the toilet, (he got a funny picture of that one.)
and this time, he was greeted with the rare sight of you sitting on the small island counter, your head hung low looking down at your phone, only to be quickly whipped upwards at the sight of your boyfriend.
“ha! i did it!” a grin spreads across your cheeks, and you triumphantly throw your arms in the air.
he’s only slightly startled, because yeah, you have stayed up late enough to see him before, but that was rare. so, he offers a smile of his own.
he’s quickly engulfed by your arms, your phone long gone and sitting atop the counter. you perch up on your toes, wrapping your arms around his nape, and happily bury your face in the crook of his neck. he smells faintly of cologne, and maybe some cigarettes if you payed closer attention, but for now, you were just happy to be in his arms.
“it’s so late, love. i’d rather find you passed out, to be honest.” he hums with a joking tilt, although he wasn’t joking very much at all.
“i know,” you whine, and pull away to plant a quick kiss to his soft and pillowy lips. “but don’t you like not needing to drag me into our room every night?”
he offers you a little exhale, looking down at you with love swirling deep in his irises. actually, he doesn’t mind it. he always finds himself feeling a sense of protectiveness, security, whenever he has to run his fingers over your soft skin, kissing your forehead and quietly needing to carry your slouched frame back to your shared bed. sometimes you’ll wake up, and others you’ll be so knocked out you won’t even budge.
“i guess so.” he lies, his fingertips reaching to brush some of your messy hair out of your face. he silently notes the small dark circles under your eyes, and guilt swells in his stomach.
“are you hungry? do you need to shower? need me to do the laundry?”
despite all of your questions, getou can easily see through your act. you’re exhaused.
his smile never falters, however. his warm hand cups the side of your cheek, wordlessly leaning down to plant a much needed, deeper kiss to your lips. maybe to shut you up, maybe to keep you going. or maybe just because he felt like kissing you.
your hand clasps lightly onto his wrist, chin pointed upwards to kiss him better. his free hand wraps around the small of your waist, giving your skin a gentle squeeze before he decides to do what’s best—even if it means you’ll complain.
he slides both of his hands down to cup your ass, using little strength to pull you up, and his hands press against your bare thighs. you grin against his lips, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist that was still clad in his work uniform.
you feel a slight breeze as he whisks you across the hallway to your shared bedroom, still your lips mold against his needily, and the feel of his hair that was falling from a loose bun wraps around your fingers.
you smile when your body tips horizontally, feeling the comfortable pressure of your mattress and soft pillows press against your back, and your legs slowly unravel from his waist, keeping position faintly pressed against his hips.
“hah, sugu—“ you murmur between the kiss, “i’d still rather you eat something before we do that.”
“oh i will.” he only chuckles into your kiss, allowing it to deepen for only a second, before an arm that had previously scooped it’s way under your back slides out. it was only then you noticed he wasn’t on the bed himself.
he pulls away from you entirely. your eyebrows furrow, watching in confusion as he lifts the thick comforter up, and happily wraps it around your body.
“wait—wha—?” you question, attempting to sit up but he presses his hand against your chest and pushes you back down into the mattress. he tucks the blankets around your body, all the while carrying a shit-eating grin.
he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, ignoring your eyes that burn through his. “go to sleep, love. i’ll be with you in a little, okay?”
you gape as he flicks the bedside lamp off, the comfort and warmness of your blankets consuming you.
getou knows, however, that if you weren’t actually exhaused, you would’ve ripped the blankets off of your frame the minute he had put them there. but when he comes into the bedroom a mere twenty minutes later, stomach full of the delicious dinner you made, and body clean from the brisk shower, he finds that you didn’t put up a single fight.
your body was rolled to the side, mouth slightly ajar and getou couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful hum of snores parting your lips, and your body cocooned towards the middle of the bed.
he knew you were tired. he knew you were forcing yourself to stay awake just to satisfy him—thinking that’s exactly what he needs—when in reality, what he was looking at was exactly what he needs.
knowing you’re serene and safe in your shared home, able to fall asleep without the large dip in the bed next to you.
because one day, he fears you may never stop waiting by that door. waiting for a man in the deep hours of the night. waiting for a man that may never walk in to wake you up again.
sorry i’ve been gone for nearly three months. i’m in a rut rn i need writing inspo!!!!!!!!!!!
eren definitely seems like the type to be eating you out while slowly fingering you, looking up at you so intensely. you can just fucking tell he’s smirking so hard as he’s flicking his tongue on your core, rotating between slow and fast rhythms, letting out heavy moans between his strokes while you arch your back and moan louder than ever before.
pairing : (very) hot neighbour ! suguru x fem ! reader
warnings : non-sorcerer au, suggestive, pervert suguru (as expected), ulterior motives, accidental flashing, shy reader (because suguru's that fucking hot), suguru the ultimate tease, important note in the end !! also i had too much fun writing this it's a sin
note : my requests are open ! feel free to send some in my ask box
suggestive content under the cut, minors dni
reblogs and comments are appreciated ୨♡୧
HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU just moved into the apartment beside yours. you just happen to stumble upon him when he's getting his last boxes in, and you felt rude to have stared at him the way you did. you were not-so-subtly checking him out, as a tight navy shirt hugged his undeniably built upper body to contrast the loose black pants, and strands of jet black hair just effortlessly falling out of his bun. you were even more embarrassed when he offered you his hand with a smile, saying "hi, i'm geto suguru. your new neighbour, i believe?", while all you could spout back were stuttered words.
HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU can't forget about you. he especially can't forget about the way you looked at him. and, it wasn't like many people haven't obviously gawked at him, but he especially liked it when he saw how nervous you got just at the sight of him. "she's cute.", he speaks to himself, going into his nap thinking of you.
HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU meets you again when you're going up the stairs, as he's going down. you tell him that the elevator would be out of service for a while, even though he didn't even ask, but he appreciates it nonetheless. especially since you said it without even gathering the courage to meet his eyes. his "thank you" catches you off guard, since he ever so briefly placed his much bigger hand on yours, before walking down.
HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU is also not bothered at all by the fact the elevator is working. while his friends say it's "unlucky" that the elevator broke down since he just moved in, he says it isn’t. he doesn't tell them why, but it's his absolute luck that he often meets you on the stairs, especially when he's going down. why? he feels he's been blessed by the gods that you wear short skirts so often. he gets such a wonderful view as he strides downstairs, while you cluelessly and timidly take steps upwards. he wonders if you've always worn skirts often or if it's because he moved in.
HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU is surprised when you knock on his door, asking him to help with a light bulb change in your living room since you "can't find your ladder". of course, he comes in to "help you" with changing the light bulb as an excuse to check out how many places he can bend you over. you also asked him oh-so-nicely as you gave him the privilege to hear you say his name when you asked "g-geto, do you mind helping me with something? please?"
HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU smiles when you offer him something to drink, since he graciously helped you with the bulb. he leans against the kitchen counter while he watches you pour out juice into a glass, only to suddenly walk towards you. you tense up when you hardly feel his wide body against your back, watching as his hand takes the filled glass and he (rhetorically) asks "this for me?". while he chuckles, unfazed by your slow nod, you're still too flustered when he moves away from behind you and stands beside you.
HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU sees you the next day, both of you just coming home from work. he asks you how work was, how your day was, any troubles ... and you answer every question, but your eyes are glued to your door knob. at first, you don't see suguru smirk, but you're soon sucking in a breath when the man suddenly approached you, similarly to how he did yesterday, and uses his pointer finger to move your chin to face him. your head tilts upwards, since he's tall, and you could see his sly expression crystal clear as he says "it's impolite not to look at people when they're asking about you, y/n."
note : should .. i make this a fic?? like .. of when reader and geto get together? because the concept of getting fucked by neighbour ! suguru is too good to resist.. please say so either through the post replies/reblogs, or in my ask box !! thank you :D
