ABOUT ME — liya capricorn persian somewhere between cabin 5 nd 6 student ravenclaw megumi enthusiast
— constantly consuming media , whether it’s reading books , watching movies , listening to music , or staying up until 3 reading fanfics classical literature , im always doing something.
— artists i like : tyler the creator , frank ocean , beabadoobee , adrianne lenker , radiohead , wisp , ka$hdami , modern baseball , ilytommy , and defo more!!
— interests / fandoms : listing every fandom im in would be torturous i fear, so, here are my current fixations — adventure time , jjk , mha , haikyuu , batfam (esp cassandra cain) , alnst , life is strange , what remains of edith finch , the last of us , and a lotttt more..
important to note: i am new to tumblr but im always looking 4 moots!!! <3
ꮼ boyfriend!sokka can't help but be a hopeless romantic with you
ᦸ he might be an idiot, but an attractive, sweet idiot ⸝⸝ sexual themes mentioned ⸝⸝ not proofread.
boyfriend!sokka is a funny man, okay? We're aware? He's constantly trying to keep a smile on your lips from his shenanigans—and is beyond proud of himself whenever he's got you laughing hard enough to wheeze.
He loves the sound of your laugh, startling you in bed with kisses just to hear one giggle; it's always so cute whenever the noise slows & you're left smiling at each other like idiots.
boyfriend!sokka is far more affectionate than most would assume; he likes resting his head on your chest, your fingers tangled in his hair—sprawled out in bed, lying on the ground, or ducking into you during a hug—he lives for the feeling of your heartbeat in his ear.
The feeling of your fingers threading through the strands, or your lips brushing the scalp while teasing him for being so touchy, while still touching him, is always so intimate.
boyfriend!sokka has woken you up—more than once, unfortunately—to tell you an idea for a new weapon he could use as a non-bender, wanting to get your opinions first on how practical you'd think it'd be for him to have before sinking time and effort into it.
He loves bringing home his finished inventions to show you first & show you how he plans to use them and the main purpose each one has.
boyfriend!sokka uses his biceps for good—picking you up & carrying you around the apartment—though that's only as a joke to prove his strength whenever you try to tease him.
Though sometimes he will pick you up whenever he gets home & carry you straight to your bed, with his arm curled tightly around you to ensure you don't slip, complaining just how much he's missed you.
boyfriend!sokka yaps frequently. He'll yap half-asleep, drowsily mumbling into your shoulder, while getting ready, showering together, during aftercare, and he'll even talk your ear off during sex.
If he has the opportunity to talk to his pretty girl, he's going to take it, even if it's in an odd situation or just to tell you something stupid. The audible excitement always fills you with a sweet warmth.
boyfriend!sokka loves it when you scratch the buzzed sections of his scalp; he'll close his eyes & lean into your touch while pulling you close. It's always so visible to his friends how lovesick he is for you.
He doesn't care how it looks to others, with him being so receptive to your affections. You toy with his hair; he toys with yours. You kiss him on the cheek, he kisses you on the cheek, and he lives for the chance to show his friends how affectionate he is with you.
boyfriend!sokka is a passionate boyfriend and proud. He does not play around; he always thinks it's so stupid when he sees a boyfriend pretending not to be in love with their girlfriend.
He's always so excited when you start affection with him. Why would he pretend he's not melting at any given chance? Showing he's into it gets him more.
“So... Tom? Tom isn’t it? I’ve got the hottest, sexiest, most talented young actor and model in Japan here and how good would that be for your hotel if he were to leave a shitty review on your website?”
You’re again yelling at your phone and not noticing the fact that Megumi’s strolling around the kitchen in only low-slung grey sweatpants, “It’ll be on every single gossip columns, no? TMZ, Us Weekly and People...” The person over the phone frantically says something and your face relaxes.
“Great, that’s what I thought. Fushiguro will check in tomorrow evening. Alright, bye!” You hang up with a scoff. You turn around only to be met with a flustered looking Megumi looking back at you.
“Hi! Good morning, gorgeous!” You give him 2 air kisses before he can process what you just called him, again, and pull up your notes app. “So, your flight to Charles de Gaulle is at 5 am tomorrow. I packed your stuff yesterday and,” You continue yapping about his itinerary once he lands in France.
But Megumi was too preoccupied with thinking about how flattering the sun made your skin look. You were always gorgeous, obviously, but something about the rays kissing your skin made you look ethereal. Out of this world. Even when you were yapping enthusiastically about the amount of photoshoots, interviews and brand deals he’d have to attend in the coming week. Was it normal to think about your super reliable and pretty assistant in that way?
Nevermind that, Megumi knew deep down that if he had the chance, and if he wasn’t embarrassingly awkward off camera, he would shoot his shot.
However, Megumi has horrible aim.
In the romance department, of course.
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Landing in Paris was quite mundane for Megumi. Sure, he had comfortably flew first class for the entire trip, read a book while you enthusiastically read through a small book of French phrase and gotten to eat gourmet food for breakfast lunch and dinner but honestly? This wasn’t the first time he’s went through these cycles.
You on the other hand were vibrating with excitement. You loved your job— you also loved the perks that came with your job.
After stepping off your flight— in which Megumi evaded French paparazzi and zealous fans (but couldn’t hesitate to sign a little girl’s poster of him)— you both checked into the hotel that you had made a grown man cry over.
The hotel room was beautiful. Haussmannian,clad with wooden floors and adorned with cheeky little detailing. Such as a velvet fainting couch in light pink, painfully soft pillows and gentle lighting.
Megumi stepped into the balcony and looked out at the Parisian streets below. People frolicked around; commuting to and from work, popping in and out of boutiques and in the far distance, he could see the Eiffel tower. Though, he never saw the appeal in a big ugly figure like that.
So what if it was French? It was just like any other ugly monument. He stepped inside, met with the sight of you lounging on the couch dramatically with a wide grin. You looked so carefree. Happy. You must really like your job.
Or maybe you really liked the perks that came with it.
Or maybe you really liked him in general.
He hoped it was the last one.
a/n: y/n stronger than me I would've pounced on that man
also I'm playing tomodachi life and Maki is literally simping over reze
i'm not making this up, like she's a blushing mess and geto is just third wheeling (does it count if reze only sees her as a friend? yikesss)
pairings: megumi x fem!hybrid reader, yuji x fem!hybrid reader (platonic)
summary: after another long, tiring mission, megumi discovers something peculiar about his shikigami
themes: master/pet dynamic, reader is megumi’s shikigami turned wolf hybrid, jealous megumi, flufffff, smut at the end
18+ mndi. all characters in this story are 20+. jujutsu school is implied to be a college in this au.
[ sooooooo yeah, i did this after having it in the drafts forever. i do not consent to my work being used or posted elsewhere. ]
Megumi has a problem.
That problem? A wagging tail, cute pointy black ears, and an irresistible pout. Which just so happens to be you—his Demon Dog and now… a hybrid?
‘How is this even possible?’ His voice echoes in his head, as he gawks at you with an expression that’s equally disturbed and curious.
You’ve sat yourself right in front of his bathroom door. Eager with concern to check him over and his fresh wounds from the mission Gojo had tasked him with. Your tail had been swishing excitedly against the wooden floor as he emerged from the bathroom. But it’s only when Megumi slams the door in your face does he hear puppy-like whines. He wasn’t meaning to be cruel.
No, definitely not. He just thinks that maybe he’s hallucinating. Assumes he’s been infected with something from one of those vile curses.
So he opens the door again, slower. Your drooping ears perk in an instant at the sight of him and something about it has Megumi Fushiguro’s heart all mushy. All for him? Seems absurd to him.
“Is your wound ok?” You ask, speaking to him for the first time. His head is spinning.
He glances to the bandages he’d poorly applied to one side of his waist.
“I’m fine.” He mutters in usual annoyance.
You’re used to his stern demands. The instructions he gives you so clearly on missions. This doesn’t seem any different or off putting. If anything, it only felt natural to worry about your Master.
He crosses the short distance from the bathroom to his bed and you scramble to your feet. His raven hair still damp, a towel slung around his neck. Black joggers hang low on his hips.
He discards the used towel to the floor. Nearly about to lay into his messy pile of sheets when he’s reminded of your presence. An expectant look on your face and wide, pretty eyes. Megumi looks away, because he swears heat is crawling up his neck and into his cheeks.
He’s questioning why you’re here.
Why hadn’t you gone away?
Would this become a regular occurrence?
His head is pounding. So he decides it can all wait until morning. He does what’s routine, what feels right. Despite the hesitance in his voice, in the way he rubs the back of his neck—he calls for you and motions to the bed.
You obey without question. Allowing him time to settle, the room falling into darkness when he shuts the light off. His eyes follow you as you choose very purposefully to lay yourself across his legs, as a typical mutt would. Your chin rests on your arms, eyes fixated on his bedroom door. Your tail has longed since stilled and you fall silently into your perfected duty. Guarding.
Megumi says nothing for several minutes. Instead, he’s studying you in your half human, half wolf form. The same features he’d been so familiar with, and others that leave him questioning. It’s only now that he notices you’ve taken it upon yourself to wear one of his oversized shirts. Then again, you likely have nothing else to wear. Which leaves his eyes wandering past your tail and down the back of your bare thighs.
He stops.
Your ears are perked, flicking and turning. Actively listening and on high alert. He’s seen it before.
Megumi reaches out finally and despite the head of human hair that resides there, he pets you just as he always has before. When you were such a good girl for him.
“Easy, girl.” He says in a gentle voice. “You’re alright. I’m safe.” He reassures, with soft strokes of his fingers through your hair.
Somehow he knows, this is only the beginning.
—
Slowly, you became Megumi’s best kept secret.
Between missions and time with his friends or sensei, Megumi was busy bonding with you. And slowly, you began to break down those stubborn walls, all without even really noticing.
Your discovery of television was something he wished he’d recorded. Those ears that never sat still turned in curiosity, eyes glued to the colorfully cartoons that moved across the screen.
Long, tiring days were spent on his sofa. Teaching you the proper way to use chopsticks for your noodles.
You improved, truly.
From previously slurping them up with your greasy fingers. Only to find yourself in your master’s bathroom, his hands holding your wrists to properly wash away the mess you made. All the while, staring up at him with sweet eyes and drooping ears, tail swishing between his legs. As if to say, “I’m sorry,” and melting away all of his frustrations to begin with.
You’d spent every waking minute trailing him and Megumi came to think that he didn’t mind.
That is until…
“Can I come with you?” You perked up, soft knees pressed into the cushion of his couch as you leaned over the back.
Megumi was slipping into his shoes, a duffle bag dropped near the door.
“Please?!” You practically whimpered, tail wagging with anticipation.
There was something you didn’t know. A gnawing truth that he was burying. Why? Because he wanted to keep you all to himself. Partially to protect you, but mainly to be selfish. And there was also the fact that everyone would have questions about you.
He still had yet to discover the meaning of your existence. After all this time, he really didn’t have any desire to know. For some inexplicable reason, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to him.
You were still his demon dog, his precious shikigami. No need to be hung up on the details.
“I need you to stay here. I’ll summon you if something comes up.” He says, as if he’s already made up his mind.
You pout, ears going flat. The perfect tactic to tug his heart strings.
He comes over, “You know I don’t like it anymore than you do, but it’s for the best.” He explains and you can’t tell if those words are more for you or himself.
“I’ll be good.” You push. “You won’t even know I’m there.” Another plead.
He knows Yuji will be there. It would only be a few hours at the campus’ track and field.
You’re studying his face, as he seems to be weighing the pros and cons of this particular situation.
“Alright…” He relents. “But you’re wearing this.” He says, while crossing the room to the coat rack. A collar dangles on one of the hooks, right below where he normally kept his hoodie.
He isn’t shocked that you’re right behind him. Waiting patiently for him to secure the collar and tracker around your throat. It clips and he adjusts it, to make sure it isn’t choking or pinching you.
Just an extra precaution. Or did he just want his ownership to be visible?
“Go get dressed. I’ll wait here.” He instructs.
You don’t hesitate and bolt back to his bedroom. Finding the clothes he bought you in a drawer, neatly folded. You dress and return to him all in record time, leaving with him and not another word exchanged.
A few people stare on the train. Megumi doesn’t blame it on your obvious hybrid features, but rather how you’re unable to sit still. Every little thing catches your eye.
Someone’s keychain. A crying baby. The city passing by in a blur.
But he doesn’t scold you. Megumi finds it endearing to see you so at attention. So he lets everyone gawk, because none of them matter.
He’s whistling for you when your eyes are still fixated on the platform, through the window, watching people file out and go about their day. “Come on, girl.” He calls you, and you obey with a little pep in your step as you join him at his side.
You walk the rest of the way. Sometimes lingering up against him, matching his strides along the sidewalk. Other times you’re moving ahead. Spotting a squirrel, before it dashes up a cherry blossom tree. And those delicate pink blooms capture your attention. Such a stark contrast to the way Shibuya felt swallowed in darkness, when curses lingered. Compared to Megumi’s apartment in the city, the outskirts of Tokyo felt…peaceful.
Megumi leads you through what feels like a maze. An interesting place of history and legacy.
Eventually, you’re climbing down stairs to an open track and field. It’s rather empty today. You only spot a pink haired boy in the distance, just as your master stops to drop his duffle near a bench that sits along the fresh grass.
“Sit here.” Another instruction.
You take your seat. Athletic shorts riding up your thighs. Your eyes wander up to him, as he digs around in his bag for the shoes he brought to train in. Your attention falls away from him in the meantime, finding the person you’ve definitely seen before. He wouldn’t recognize you this way, but you’d protected him on missions.
“Is that Yuji?” You suddenly ask, Megumi. Who just glances over his shoulder after tying his laces. “Yeah.” He grunts out, before standing straight again.
“Stay here. Don’t move.” He says sternly. “Hey-” He snaps, bringing your focus back to him. “Did you hear me?” He asks.
You nod, “Stay here. Don’t move.” You repeat.
“Good girl.” He rewards you with a scratch behind your ear and you instinctively lean into it. A whine dying in your throat when he pulls away and starts walking across the field to begin his stretches.
You behave well in those few minutes he’s gone. This seems easy to you. But it doesn’t take long for it to feel like a punishment.
The sun shining, a wide open space calling to you. Everything seems so tempting.
You decide to watch Megumi.
He’s doing pushups now. His form flawless, as he effortlessly lowers toward the ground. Hair in his face. His biceps strained, flexing and visible from the sleeveless shirt he’d chosen. From here, you can still hear the noises he’s making. Low grunts that leave your stomach turning, toes curling in your sneakers.
“Hey!” A sweet enthusiastic sound.
“Fushiguro didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend!” Yuji laughs, but there’s no hint of ill intention in his voice. He’s genuinely surprised.
“Oh, no-” You begin.
“No need to explain. He’s always soo mysterious.” Yuji says with his own silly emphasis. It’s enough to make you smile.
You don’t bother to correct him.
“Are those… ears??” He asks, coming closer.
Your cheeks feel warm at his observation. “Yeah.” You mutter out, shyness overtaking you.
“Cute!” He chuckles. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen stranger things before.
Your timidness has quickly faded though, because now you’ve spotted the tennis ball in Yuji’s hand.
And he notices.
“You wanna play?” He holds it higher. Your eyes follow, head turned up, ears perked. Then he sees it, your cute black tail starting to sway. Yuji is thoroughly entertained.
He doesn’t think twice. Just turns and swiftly chucks the ball across the field. You’re up in seconds, instincts driving all thoughts, as you bolt across the field. Happily running to retrieve the ball. To earn your praise and impress him.
Yuji’s stunned at just how fast you are.
The ball is yours now, as you pick it up. Briefly inspecting it, sniffing it too, before running straight back to him.
“Holy shit!” He shouts. “You’re really fast!”
You smile wide, beaming with your sharp canines.
“Throw it again?” You ask, hopeful. You’re ready to play now.
Who was he to deny you?
“Go get it!” He yells mid throw, tossing even harder this time.
You don’t miss a beat. Knees sliding against the earth, grass stains bound to be left, as you snatch the ball.
You run back half way back, before tossing the ball toward him. He catches it, with that same boyish grin. You could get used to this. Megumi had never played with you like this.
You test his limits now. Adrenaline pumping, overly excited. You rush him, running at him and he yells with laughter.
“Woah! Hey!” He calls, more laughter spilling out of his mouth as he runs from you. “I’m not a ball!”
You run faster, despite Yuji Itadori being certain he’s quick. He’s sorely mistaken when you tackle him into the grass, rolling and rough housing until you pin him.
“I got you!” You declare triumphantly. A smug look on your face, hair framing your features.
You pant softly, before leaning down to affectionately lick a wet stripe against his face.
“Yooo!!!” He squeezes his eyes shut, roaring with renewed laughter. “Does that mean you like me?”
Your playtime is quickly over when a familiar voice yells across the field. The use of your name is enough to scare you into submission. Those rules you’d long forgotten are now coming back to bite you in the ass. Megumi making his way to you both.
“I told you to stay put!” He growls.
Your ears flatten, and you move off of Yuji.
“Easy, Fushiguro. It’s my fault, I was just playing with her.”
“Shut up, Itadori.” He bites back. “Why the fuck are you licking him?”
He saw that…
“I-” You’re brain is trying for words. Not used to seeing him so angry, not toward you anyway. Though, you wouldn’t recognize jealousy either, which is exactly what’s wrong with Megumi. “I was just excited, Master. I’m sorry.”
“Master?!” Yuji nearly chokes on his spit. “That’s kinky-”
“It’s not like that!” Megumi grumbles.
A long heavy sigh is released, before he motions to you. “Come.”
You do as you’re told, with one last sad glance to Yuji.
“Yuji, I’ll see you later and I’ll explain everything then. Just…” He looks away, as if a sudden awkwardness has developed. “Keep this to yourself, alright?”
“Yeah, whatever, man.” Yuji shrugs it off.
With an obvious blush to his face, Megumi turns to you and you both walk back to the bench. Obvious shame in your eyes and lowered ears, as you sit once again. He changes his shoes, preparing to head back home with you.
“Don’t lick other people.” He scolds.
‘Other people.’ That was very important. Meaning he didn’t want to rule himself out.
You nod. “Is it bad?” You ask, not really sure why it’s wrong or why he doesn’t want you to do it.
“No.” He answers quickly. “It’s like… kissing someone.” He describes, which leaves you with more questions. “It’s intimate. Only for someone special.”
You don’t argue. The conversation ends, before you’re both heading back to the station.
—
Megumi doesn’t miss how still you are on the train. How quietly you sit beside him. Legs pressed together, hands folded.
At home, he stops you just at the door. “Hold on.” A soft mutter, before carefully removing your collar. His fingers brushing against the delicate skin there. He hangs it up where it was before. You copy him, as you both kick off your shoes and he drops his bag.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Megumi insists and you don’t fight him on it.
Honestly, you’re still questioning what went wrong earlier. And the guilt of disobedience is weighing heavily on you.
‘Only for someone special.’
You replay his words over and over. Was he someone special? You’d like to think so. Did he think that of you too? Or was it only natural, given the circumstances of your relationship? You’re his weapon. That meant something else entirely to you.
“Will you help me?” You don’t know what sparked you to ask him, but the question slips out and it’s too late to go back.
Megumi, ever the gentleman, seems hesitant to agree to that. But those damn sad puppy eyes would surely be the death of him.
“Yeah.” He moves behind you in the short space of the bathroom. A vast difference to the field you’d been running in. His chest grazing past your shoulders, as he turns the shower on.
The water sprays against the tiles, as he lets it run against his fingers. He waits for it to reach the proper temperature.
“Get in. I’ll be right back.”
You watch him exit the bathroom, before staring back at the running water. The sound of it almost leaving your mind quiet.
Finally, you’re undressing. Your clothes in a heap on the floor.
Carefully, you step in and feel the stream against your bare skin. Your hands reach out to feel the warmth of it, letting it warm the rest of your body. Slowly, you’re relaxing in it. It feels nice. So much so, your eyes slip closed.
You barely even notice when Megumi returns. Towels left on the counter. He strips down just to his boxers. A new set of shampoo and conditioner in his grasp. One’s he’d picked up recently for you on a late night grocery run. You’d never complained about using his own, but the gesture was what mattered. He thought of you.
You’re aware of his presence behind you. He sets the bottles on the floor of the shower, as you look over your shoulder.
You can’t see his wandering eyes. Drifting past your shoulders, down to your waist and… he stops.
“Turn to me.” He says, but before you do so, he changes it, “Will you please face me?” He asks. It was a change that you didn’t fully appreciate, or understand. Not yet anyway.
You slowly do so. Unashamed of your nakedness.
“Keep your arms up.” He instructs, grabbing your wrists to fold them over your chest for decency. They stay there for merely a second, before you let your arms fall back to your sides.
He breathes through his nose, but resumes his task anyway.
He uses a cloth with soap to wash over your skin. Moving across your collar bone and down one arm, before repeating to go down the other. He avoids your chest all together. Megumi kneels down to get your thighs, knees and shins. Wiping away the green and brown stains from your little playful adventure with Yuji. Then he’s onto your tail. Carefully cleaning the fur.
You watch him, as he spends every minute silently admiring you. Silently thinking things he wish he could dream away.
He stands again, as the water washes away the soap across your body. He’s about to wring out the cloth, when you stop him.
“Let me?” You offer, but it sounds like your pleading again.
Megumi indulges you.
You take the soapy rag and use it to do the same as he had done to you. Washing over his chest, down to his abdomen. Your other bare hand sliding across the indents of his muscles. Next are his arms.
Megumi’s eyes are glued to the shower wall, over your head.
You peer up at him and only then does he look down. A beat of silence passes. Something unspoken lingering there. Your bodies inches from one another. You search his eyes and find them unreadable.
The rest of the shower resumes. As he finishes to help you with your hair, careful of your ears.
“Go dry off and wait for me.” He says, tone gentler than normal.
You step out, wet feet sinking against a plush black rug. Reaching for the towel he brought you, before you begin to dry yourself.
You pad off into his bedroom. One of his shirts stolen for the night from his closet. You slip the comforting piece of clothing over your head. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips.
The domesticity of your night continues. As you find yourself, criss cross on the floor between Megumi’s legs.
He’s quiet while you fidget, focused on his task of the tangles left in your wet hair.
“I know I was a jerk earlier. I’m sorry.” He finally speaks.
Your ears are the first thing he notices. Upright and listening.
“It’s alright.” You respond, not sure what else there is to say.
“No it’s not.” He doubles down, before a heavy sigh passes through his nose. “I hated seeing you be so sweet with Itadori.” He confesses.
There it is.
He’s beating himself up about it, but you’re not the best with social cues. If anything, you’re thrilled to know that he isn’t upset with you. Though you had to be sure, as you gather yourself to your feet.
Megumi’s eyes turn into saucers when you’re climbing on top of him. Straddling his lap. Knocking him back, flat to the mattress.
“So you’re not mad at me?” Head tilted, tail wagging with hopefulness.
Megumi looks dumb founded and the situation only grows worse when he gives you the response you want.
“No—” Your hips push forward. Leaning down to nuzzle your dear companion.
‘This is definitely not good!’
His subconscious is screaming at him.
It wouldn’t do him any favors, because one more roll of your hips (unintentionally, of course) leaves something awakening inside Megumi Fushiguro.
No, not inside, but rather south… right in his gym shorts.
He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing. Your name is a struggle on his tongue. He nearly seems to be in pain.
“Are you ok?” You push up, hands supporting yourself on either side of his head. And now you feel it too. Long and hard, pushing right up against your bare cunt. God knows only how many times he’s reprimanded you to put a pair of underwear on.
“Oh-” Is what comes out of your mouth first.
You’re about to move. “I’m sorry- I-” You stammer.
“Wait-” Megumi grunts out, hands find your hips. Fingers brushing over bare skin. Discovering your lack of clothing.
He’s really done for now.
“It’s okay.” He rasps, clearly flustered.
You test the waters then. Pressing down against him and he chokes out a moan. His grip tightens, bordering on painful as he digs into the flesh of your hips.
“Careful…” He breathes, his flustered state melting into something else in seconds. Hunger.
“I think I get it now.” You smile sweetly, amusement dazzling in those pretty eyes. Ones that manipulate your master without trying.
“Get what?” He asks, his composure holding on by a thread.
You lean in closer. Megumi stills.
“You just wanted me to lick you instead of Yuji, huh?” And you look like you’ve struck gold. All smug and sure of yourself.
Megumi’s a mess. Furrowed brows, hard cock, and pink cheeks.
“Don’t be stu-”
You cut him off and lick a clean stripe right along his throat until you’re just below his ear.
He groans.
The digits digging into your hips are pulling and guiding. Dragging you against the outline of his cock. Your clit rubbing against the fabric. It’s your turn to whimper and he catches on with a smirk.
You really shouldn’t have done that.
“Don’t get shy on me, Pup.” He says. “Keep going.” He encourages, as you take the lead and start to rock your hips.
A hand closes around your neck, like a collar of its own. Not enough to cut off your air, but to remind you of who really has the upper hand.
He pulls you down. Inch by inch, until you’re breathing and whining against his lips.
“That’s my girl.” He praises. “So fucking eager to please.”
You nod, agreeing, before his lips meet yours. Tasting him for the time. His lips are so soft, so sweet in comparison to his harsh demeanor. It has you keening, melting right into him.
He hums.
He sits up and you have no choice but to do the same. Still seated in his lap, your throat is freed from his grip.
You’re still trying to hump him, desperate to ease the ache in your clit.
“Easy, girl. Easy. Sit still, sweetheart.” He orders, as his hand slips between your thighs.
His long fingers discover your bundle of nerves with ease. He rubs teasingly slow circles, before sliding down to gather the arousal at your entrance. Your hips jerk and he chuckles. You’ve done a good job at making yourself wet for him.
“That’s for me right? Not Yuji?” His thumb pressing to your clit. Now he’s teasing.
You make pathetic noises. Practically yelping when he inserts two fingers without warning. Sliding them until his knuckles are massaging your walls.
Who knew those fingers, the same ones he used to summon you, were capable of doing such things that rendered you completely useless.
“Come on, answer me, Pup.” Megumi insists, subtly warning of consequences if you don’t give him what he wants.
“J-just for you.” You manage between whines and moans.
You’re so blissfully full, rocking aimlessly against his fingers like a bitch in heat. He likes those words too. You know he does, because he’s fucking you faster with his fingers. Messily rubbing at your clit with his thumb. You’re coating him already, making a mess as he curls his fingers. Hitting that spot that makes your toes curl for real.
You’re helplessly leaning into him, holding onto him as you pant and moan into his ear, while his filthy foreplay continues. All until it snaps. Hips stuttering, walls contracting, and you’re gushing around him with such ease it leaves Megumi’s cock twitching.
“Just one more, sweet girl.” He whispers, lips pressing below your ear. Hands sliding down your thighs, before pushing beneath your shirt. Hands spreading across your back, as he lays back against the sheets and pulls you with him. Your lips connected in another heated kiss, as you barely collect yourself.
You’re still catching your breath when you break away, forehead resting against his own.
Megumi reaches between you and pushes down his shorts low enough to free his cock. The tip of it brushing through your folds as he adjusts to find your hole.
You ease down, wanting this just as badly as he does. So impatient.
The stretch burns and he sees it in your eyes. Your back arches, strangling out a moan, before he’s squeezing your sides with silent reassurance.
“Nice and slow.” He directs. “You’re doing good for me, sweetheart.”
That gets you, your ears always giving you away.
“Keep looking at me.”
You do, as you take another inch and another. You’re just as prideful to see him so affected. Moaning and whimpering himself, as you fully take him. He swears he won’t last long, not with how snug you feel. So warm, so wet.
“Fuck-” His head falls back. “Feels so good.”
“Y-yeah.” You pant weakly, as you start to rock your hips. Confident that you have the motion from before.
His nails drag against the meat of your thighs, approving of your movement as your greedy pussy hugs him even tighter. Taking him deeper with every delicious roll of your hips.
You’re moaning louder, less shy this time. The pinch from earlier, replaced by pleasure. You marvel at him. Admiring his toned figure. Abs taught, biceps flexing.
“Fuuuuck-” Megumi drags out. “Don’t stop.”
Despite that, you’d be lying to say your legs weren’t still jelly from earlier.
You’re trying your best, you really are, but it’s not enough for Megumi. But it’s not like he minded, because he notices you’re struggling. Thighs trembling, growing more tired with every second.
“C’mere.” He beckons.
You fold into him without complaint. Without missing a beat, he holds you to his chest. His hips pushing up into you, to drive himself deeper. Hitting that sweet spot he’d come to know.
His thrusts become harder, meaner, as he uses the energy he has to finish you both. His tight hold on you, leaving you without choice but to take everything he gives you.
“Meg-” You hiccup. “umi!” You cry out, alerting him to your impending, second orgasm. It’s the last coherent thing you say, before he’s fucking you dumb.
Relentlessly pounding your sore pussy, as he snaps up into you over and over.
Megumi’s gone too. All grunts and groans, that remind you of those noises he made during his pushups earlier that day.
You unravel first. Crying out and eventually falling slack against him.
He’s right behind you. A last few sloppy thrusts and he’s painting your insides, with a final, higher pitched moan that cracks in throat.
He shudders beneath you. Your breaths coming out ragged, as he holds you in the aftermath.
You rest there for a moment. Knowing another shower is calling your name’s, but neither of you are willing to get up yet.
You rest against his chest. One leg over his. His fingertips lightly moving across the skin of your arm.
Tilting your head up, you examine his profile. He’s handsome. Miserable, but handsome. Yet, you have to admit this is the most relaxed he’s ever looked.
“What is it, Pup?” He can feel your eyes on him, though his remain closed.
You like the new nickname.
“You’re someone special to me. Am I someone special to you?” You ask, softly.
His eyes open, head turning to look at you. Eyes sincere. A look that’s now reserved for you. Which probably meant you didn’t even need him to tell you now, but it warmed your heart all the same.
One soft kiss to your forehead, his own falls against yours. “Yeah… You are.”
You cherish the moment. Hold it close, as if it would flutter away into the night like a feral bird. Anything could tear you apart, but right now was all you needed.
“So…” You start. All seriousness evaporating. Your head lifts. A cute little grin, black ears pricked. “Do I get to meet Gojo Sensei like this?”
Helloooo ^3^ Could u pls do a fem!reader Megumi smut fic where we lick his honey covered abs, then make out and ride his abs? pretty please >///<
Knee socks - artic monkeys
1.1k word count
Megumi and his sleeper build🤤🤤This is implied Alt!megumi btw!!
Megumi thought after a long time of dating you he’d uncovered all the freaky and weird stuff you’re into but apparently not. He sat on the bed with his legs crossed, “So you want to pour honey on me…then lick it” he clarifies and stares at your very happy face “just on your abs!” You smile as if it made anything normal.You presented the honey bottle proudly “it’s one of those squeezy ones” you say, “right” he sighs watching you sit beside him “so?” You look into his jade eyes deeply “can I?”. Damn it
He laid back with his shirt off, he could already tell you were excited by the way you eyed his muscles and bit your lip. “you’re so sexy” you mumble as the tip of your tongue drags along his neck,slowly lips travelling down to his collar bone “mm, don’t leave marks on my neck,idiot” he groaned but gripped your waist,your hands rested on his abs, caressing the hard muscles under his skin.
You straddled him, your thighs sandwiching his hips as you opened the honey bottle.He watched as the honey began dripping from the bottle and drizzling over his abs and pecs as if garnishing a dessert “it’s cold” he mumbles “sorry gumi”. You set the bottle on the bedside table and leaned down, beginning to drag your tongue around his belly button to collect the honey, you hear him let out a small noise only encouraging you to keep going. “You taste good” you whisper against his skin “so good gumi” your tongue going over the curve of his ab, you look up to meet his eyes, his breath heavy as your kiss and lick his skin.
Your tongue didn’t stop licking, tasting the sweet honey and his warm skin was making you dizzy with hunger. You kissed and slurped, leaving a trail of sticky saliva.
He tangled his fingers in your hair, the hard metal of his rings gently grazing your scalp “mm~” you let out a quiet moan and licked some stray honey off his nipple, the metallic taste of his piercing was so addictive. You swirl the tip of your tongue around his nipple, “fuck,baby,don’t tease me” he gasps which only prompts you to start sucking on it.
His hand slides to cup your jaw, forcing your head up to kiss you deeply, his lips slamming against yours.You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against his erection, your pussy desperate for friction as his tongue fought with yours “mph…mm, gumiii” you whine. The small ball of metal in his tongue rubbed against your tongue, it tasted so good, you had become hooked to the taste of metal, he pulls away slightly and nips at your bottom lip “you’re being needy,baby” he whispers in a teasing tone.
Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him again, more slow and intense this time, he’s such an amazing kisser you can’t stop. Tongues dancing, a gentle breeze coming in from the open window, the soft sound of smooching filling the room; “you’re so dirty” he mutters between kisses “getting all worked up from licking me” a hand sliding down to grope your ass.
You sit up and pull your top off, your tits bouncing slightly in your cute bra as you take your shorts off too, he watches you undress with hooded eyes. You sat on him in just your underwear, you stared at each other for a moment before he reached up to gently squeez your tits over your bra “I love this set you know, navy suits you” you smile at the compliment “I know you love it”.
You couldn’t help yourself, your eyes trailed down his torso and stopped at the trimmed hair leading into his boxers.
“Gumi” you start, your eyes snapping back up to his face, “can I grind on your abs?” You ask; you felt slightly embarrassed at how dirty you are but right now you cared more about if he’d let you. He blinked then leg out the softest chuckle, it would be nice since you never see him laugh but you almost felt like he was laughing at you, your cheeks heated up “you’re so weird…but sure, if that’s what you want” he ran his hand down your waist. You almost jumped for joy but instead moved up, your panties already damp and sticky, you rested your hands on his chest for support as you pressed your hips down experimentally “mm~”
You didn’t wait for anything more, you started rocking your hips back and forth, the firmness of his six back was perfect against your clit. You were all worked up right now, moaning and whining as you moved your hips faster. Megumi was just mesmerised, he was painfully hard but the sight of you right now was way too distracting; he held your hips to encourage you “so needy…” he watches your panties get more soaked “shit baby, you’re so pretty especially like this” his nails leaving crescent shaped marks on the curve of your ass.
His words were only helping build up the burning feeling in your core, “g-gumi!” You gasp “I’m so close, so so close”, squeezing your eyes shut. “Gonna make a mess on me? Go on, cum for gumi” he smirked in that almost mocking tone he always used to force an orgasm out of you. You cried out softly and came, your nails scratching his chest.
You flopped onto him and buried your face in his neck “that was so good” you mumble, he runs his hand over your hair “are you all spent?” He asks softly “because, I still have a little problem” he whispers as he kisses your temple. You lift your head a little and look at him “well, only if you’re on top” you smile “deal” he kisses you softly.
asking bf!megumi to try something new .ᐟ +18 mdni, aged up!megumi
the idea has been in your mind for a few weeks, and lying so comfortably on his chest right now it just seemed like the perfect moment to approach it.
megumi noticed the tension spreading through your body, alongside with your gaze fixed on his face.
"hmh?" the sound came from deep in his throat, accompanied by one finger moving a piece of hair from your face.
"I'm just thinking about something. 'been thinking about something, actually."
"yeah?" his full attention undeniably yours.
"I'm going to tell you, but I need you to be honest with me... if you're not comfortable with what I'm about to suggest, just say it"
he visibly stiffened at that, eyes moving to the ceiling for just a second before getting back to you.
"go on..."
"I'm not sure how to put it, I kinda want you to..."
a warmth spread quickly across your cheeks and you couldn't help avoiding his gaze. his hand softly met your face, trying to bring you back.
"just say it."
his eyes looked so much deeper in moments like this, it was way too easy to get lost in that greenish hue.
just get it over with, you thought to yourself.
"Iwantyoutodegrademeinbed."
perfect, like ripping off a band-aid.
his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a flush of red spreading across the tips of his ears.
that reaction was not exactly the best one you could've gotten, right? a sense of regret immediately spread through your body.
"you think I'm weird, don't you? It's okay if you don't want to do it-"
"I didn't say that."
"oh."
a warm hand settled on your lower back, rubbing up and down smoothly.
"I just... wasn't expecting it."
the oh so soft look on his face was enough to calm your heart down.
"so, what do you think about it?" you propped yourself up on your forearms over his chest.
"I think we can give it a try." the answer came honestly, and accompanied by a kiss to the crown of your head.
hours later, megumi came out of the shower to find you completely immersed in a book, resting against his headboard.
you didn't seem to notice his presence until he knelt down beside you, lowering the item in your hands to steal a kiss from your pretty lips.
"hi." you whispered into his mouth.
"hi. what are you reading?"
megumi reached for the book you were holding, but you quickly set it aside.
"nothing interesting. at least, nothing more interesting than this..."
you leaned towards him, one hand flying to the back of his neck, pressing your lips against his.
your tongues intertwined like they belonged together, so familiar and yet as exciting as if it was the first time.
his body haunched over yours, eager hands meeting your waist, pulling you as close as possible.
"you smell so good."
you said while nipping at the lobe of his ear, pulling a low groan from him.
he rested his forehead against yours. "was thinking about you."
"hm?"
"in the shower."
you poked his nose softly with your own. "yeah? what were you thinking about?"
he gave you a final peck on the lips, then descended all the way down to your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses throughout the way.
"this..." he kept going down, burying his head on your chest over your loose shirt.
his fingers found the hem of your clothing, pulling it all the way off. the kisses never slowed down, his mouth quickly coming back to action on your abdomen. "and this..."
"megumi..."
"hm? what do you want, pretty?"
he gently bit the skin connecting your waist to your hip, sending a shiver through your entire body.
"I want you."
"yeah? want my mouth? or my fing-"
"your cock."
the sudden interruption caught megumi's attention, his eyes finding yours once again, shining with a newfound excitement.
"need- need your cock, please."
looking at you now, so beautiful and desperate under him, he remembered your words from before.
I want you to degrade me.
as the sweet, chivalrous boyfriend he was, megumi was decided to give you what you wanted.
"you need my cock?"
suddenly, both of his hands found your waist, manhandling you to lie down in your belly; his demonstration of strength and crude words were more than enough to get you dripping.
"I- I do... want to be so full of you, megumi."
his boxers got visibly tighter at that, and you could feel it perfectly over your panties as he grinds down on your ass.
"where did you learn to talk like that?" he kissed your shoulder, your neck, your earlobe. "never pictured my sweet girl with such a filthy mouth."
he suddenly bit your neck and you threw your head back at that, not containing your moans anymore.
all that teasing was almost overwhelming, his full weight over your body, bulge so close to where you actually wanted him, his mouth and hands roaming all around your skin, your mind was a cloudy mess right now.
"stop messing with me! do something, please."
you whined so pretty for him, megumi wondered why he had never tried this before.
his hands found your hips again, raising your ass in the air on full display for him.
your panties were almost see-through from how drenched you were, the sight was something your boyfriend would die for.
two fingers met your clothed heat, tracing your folds slowly, just enough to elicit a moan from you.
"hmmph- want more..."
you roll your hips accordingly to his slow strokes, trying to get more friction. he happily obliges, finding your clit and pressing down with his thumb.
"how are you this worked up already? haven't I been giving you enough attention?"
"it's not that! I just..."
"you just what? you're just too desperate, too needy?"
you had no time to answer him when his fingers suddenly pulled your underwear to the side and made direct contact to your dripping pussy, pulling another whine from you.
megumi ran his index finger from your clit all the way down to your hole, teasing the entrance.
"please, megumi."
"you want it that bad?"
he began stretching you open slowly, gasping at the feeling of your tight canal pulling him in deeper.
with his free hand he slapped your ass, mindlessly and light handed, although not failing to notice the loud moan you let out at that.
his middle finger joined in with the first one, the intrusion almost too good to handle. megumi curled his digits inside you, rubbing perfectly all over your walls.
he went in and out time and time again, obsessed with the sweet little sounds you kept on making and the sight of your pussy opening up for him.
the stretch felt so good, the movements just slow enough so you could feel every inch of him. more of your juices dripped onto the bed as the sounds echoing in the room became obscene.
a thumb found your clit, slow circle motions sending shivers to your whole body.
"got nothing to say now? cat got your tongue?"
"n-no." you couldn't help wiggling your hips in his direction, trying to get his fingers to move faster. "it's just..."
"it's just what?" suddenly he pulled you closer by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "don't tell me you've broken down already."
his proximity and condescending tone only made you weaker, but you knew you had to be strong to get what you really wanted.
"I haven't, baby! it's just.. enough. you can put it in now." you spoke calmly, trying to hide how desperately you actually wanted it.
but megumi knew better, he could see so easily through your little act. he felt your thighs trembling under his palm, your juices leaking nonstop on his fingers.
"I see." he pulled his digits for a moment, you were about to question it when you felt him finally taking off your panties.
megumi smoothed his hand over your ass for a second, pressing a hand on your back to force you into a mean arch.
"breathe in for me."
before you could make sense of his words, megumi was pulling his boxers down and lining up with you.
not a second later he was pushing in. "fuck- is this what you wanted?"
you moaned loudly at the intrusion, your body pushed forward by the impact of his hips on your behind.
large hands gripped your waist as he started his movements, thrusting into you.
"yes... this is what I wanted."
your words came out slurred from how fucked up you were already, drooling into the pillow and just allowing him to do whatever he wanted to you.
"look at you..."
one of his hands found your head, pulling some hair out of your face so he could have a better look at your disheveled state.
megumi held your face in his hand, wiping some drool from the corner of your mouth.
"fuck... aren't you disgusted with yourself?"
neither of you cared about the contradiction in his words right now, the way he sounded appalled but kept on fucking you like today was his last day on earth.
the more he talked, the more you leaked on his girthy cock, helping him slide in and out of you.
"so... so good, feels so good."
megumi got encouraged by your words, allowing his hand to fall on your ass harder than before. you groaned loudly at the impact, feeling more pleasure than you believed to be possible.
"you like that?"
a pretty handprint appeared on your bottom, megumi kneaded the skin on there, taking mental notes of all the shades of red he could make on you.
"can't believe you're into this."
as his tone got harsher, megumi started to understand the thrill you felt when being degraded.
his movements got faster, he locked an arm around your throat and got closer to your face, staring into your eyes. "you're so dirty."
"megumi!"
you whined and tried to hide from his gaze, embarrassed by his words.
"tch, none of that. you asked for this."
he searched for your chin, raising it again, forcing your stare into him.
"take it, don't act like you don't want it."
your velvety walls clenched around him, the position allowing his cock to go deeper with every thump of his hips.
megumi angled his thrusts to hit your sweet spot, you tried answering his question, but the pleasure was becoming too much. "mmgh- megumi..."
"can't even speak properly anymore?"
his arm left your throat, the same hand cradling your head only to push it further onto the pillow.
he held your hips, pulling your body towards himself and slapping your ass again, tears fell down your face, a known coil forming in your lower stomach.
"hm? have I fucked you dumb already?" he reached for your soaked cunt, rubbing slow circles on your clit and watching for your every reaction.
"n-no. hmph-"
you tried speaking up, you swear you did, but everytime he slammed his hips onto yours the task seemed more complicated.
"pathetic."
low groans escaped his throat insistently, hinting that he was getting close to his climax.
"want- please- want you to cum inside."
"now she can talk?" his fingers moved faster on your bundle of nerves "dumb girl..."
"please... hah-"
megumi's thrusts got quicker, the squelching of your abused pussy filling the room. his nails pressed into your hip while another slap landed on your ass.
"want it that bad?"
"mmph- yes!!" your words were muffled by the pillow, arms not managing to hold your weight anymore. "want to cum... with you."
"you're so greedy." a big hand found one of your tits, fondling it and playing with your nipple, causing your moans to grow even more desperate. "go on them, cum for me"
you noticied the familiar shocks start to flow through your body as megumi's cock scratched all of the right places inside you, easily slipping in and out with the fluids coming from your cunt.
the stimulation on all of your sweet spots was too much, bringing you to the edge as a desperate moan formed in your throat.
"yes, megumi! so- so good.. hmmh"
you rambled into the pillow, the words making less sense as pleasure coated your mind. megumi could feel you squeezing him tighter, constant pulses coming from your pussy.
you looked so pretty like this, losing yourself on his cock, making a mess all over him and his bed, he couldn't believe you were even real.
a sudden heatwave coursed through his body and he couldn't keep the movements steady anymore, his thrusts became fast and sloppy, helping you reach the peak of your orgasm as his own approached.
his warmness enveloped you while he crouched over your body to spread messy kisses and nips around your shoulder and neck, both of his arms encircling your waist to hold you firmly as he emptied out inside of you.
his warm seed flowed through as you rode out your orgasm, reaching behind to craddle the back of megumi's neck while he kept on kissing all over yours.
you giggled at his affection, how different he seemed from just a moment ago.
"what is it?"
"it's nothing... just tell me, did you like doing it?"
you had a pretty smile on your face while questioning him, but he missed it, too busy thumbing your sensitive pussy lips open to watch as his cum left a trail on your thighs.
"yeah... we're definitely doing this again."
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ
a/n: I've never written p in v b4 and I hate this, but it kinda got me out of a writer's block so it's okay.. also uni is butchering me these days so I been having little to no time to write butttt I still haven't given up on being more active here alright bye <3
LAST FRIDAY NIGHT (T.G.I.F) .ᐟ 𓂃 g. satoru. & r. sukuna ◞
synopsis. you woke up in bed between two frat boys you barely knew—and now you have to figure out what the hell happened last friday night.
warnings. 18+, frat party setting (alcohol, drinking games, mild peer pressure), threesome (mfm) dynamic, voyeurism/exhibitionism, consensual but impulsive sex under the influence, some language and casual objectification, virgin!reader, shy/inexperienced reader, modern college AU.
juniper's ☆ note. based off of the katy perry song last friday night hehe also i'm still a lil scared to use banners so nothing yet :(
you wake up warm. that’s the first thing. warm and sore and weirdly… safe. the blanket’s tangled somewhere around your knees, one of your socks is still on, and your mouth tastes like cheap vodka and lip gloss. your head’s pounding. your eyes won’t open all the way. your body aches in places you don’t even have names for. but you’re not alone.
there’s an arm around your waist. a heavy, bare thigh pressed behind yours. someone breathing against the back of your neck. slow, steady, like they’ve been asleep for hours. and in front of you—there’s another body. taller, sprawled out, hair messy, cheek smushed into the same pillow as yours. his arm is under your head like you’d been holding it.
satoru’s hair is white-blond and soft-looking even now, even in sleep. his lips are parted just slightly. his breath smells like spearmint and sugar. he has glitter on his cheekbone. you don’t know if it’s yours or his.
behind you—sukuna. you can tell without turning. you can feel him. his fingers are curled just under the hem of your shirt, palm hot against your stomach like he owns the right to be there. one of his rings digs gently into your skin every time he breathes. and you don’t move. not yet.
you’re not wearing pants. or a bra. or—god. you don’t even want to check.
your glasses are nowhere to be found. your thighs are sticky. the room smells like sweat and cologne. and the longer you lie there, the more your brain starts to fill in the blanks. flashes. laughing. lights. someone’s hands on your waist. someone else’s mouth on your chest. sukuna’s voice in your ear, “you’re taking us so well, sweetheart.”
you inhale sharply. satoru stirs. the arm around your waist tightens. “you good?” he mumbles, eyes still closed, voice thick with sleep.
you don’t answer right away. your pulse is going insane. your phone is dead. your mouth is dry. and you’re lying in the bed of two boys you’ve never said more than five words to—at least not before last night.
last night.
shit.
what the hell happened last friday night?
twenty-four hours earlier, you didn’t even want to go.
you were in your room, hoodie on, glasses slipping down your nose, halfway through a 20-minute video essay you didn’t even care about when nobara kicked your door open. she didn’t knock. she never knocks. just marched in, grabbed the remote, and said, “we’re going out.”
you blinked at her. “out where?”
“party,” she said, digging through your closet like she lived there. “frat house. you’re overdue for a bad decision.”
you laughed like she was joking. she, in fact, wasn’t.
somehow you ended up in the passenger seat of her car twenty minutes later wearing a skirt you didn’t know you owned and a shirt that didn’t fully cover your bra straps. your lip gloss felt too shiny. your shoes felt too loud. and your heart wouldn’t stop trying to escape your ribcage.
you’ve been to maybe three parties since college started. all of them sucked. you usually end up nursing one drink in the corner and sneaking out before midnight. but nobara had a hand on your back the whole walk up the driveway, her voice in your ear—“just have fun, babe. don’t overthink it. be hot and nonchalant and mysterious or whatever.”
you weren’t mysterious. you were anxious. the music was too loud, the lights were too red, and everything smelled like beer and expensive body spray. you were trying to find the kitchen when you saw them.
satoru first. standing on the couch, red solo cup raised like a toast, yelling something stupid while everyone around him cheered. white shirt, chain around his neck, laugh echoing off the ceiling. he looked like he was born to be worshipped. too pretty to exist. too loud to ignore.
then sukuna—leaning against the wall, drink in hand, tattoos half-covered by a hoodie he clearly didn’t care about. not smiling. not yelling. just watching. sharp eyes scanning the room like he was already bored of everyone in it. except you.
because when you walked in—he looked straight at you. didn’t blink. didn’t look away. just tipped his chin up like he’d been waiting for you to show.
you broke eye contact first. obviously.
you tried to disappear into the crowd after that. pushed your way to the drinks table. grabbed something pink and half-melted and sweet enough to taste like nothing. you were gonna sip it and then sneak home, like always. but then someone tapped your shoulder.
you turned.
satoru. he was smiling. full force. bright as a fucking floodlight.
“hey,” he said, tipping his cup toward you. “you’re in my bio class, right?”
you nodded. he grinned wider.
“i knew i recognized those glasses.”
you blink up at him. “what?”
satoru grins like you’re the punchline of a joke he hasn’t told yet. he’s a little too close, too confident. he’s taller than you remember. shinier. and definitely not drunk—not yet.
“bio 102,” he says. “you sit three rows behind me. glasses. purple highlighter. you take notes like it's a race.”
you blink again.
“you looked up once,” he adds, “when i dropped my pen. you didn’t hand it back.”
“you didn’t ask,” you mumble.
he laughs, head tipping back like you’re the funniest thing in the room. “fuuck, you’re cute.”
you try to step around him. you really do. but his hand comes out casually, just two fingers on your wrist, not even tight—barely there. “don’t go. i was gonna ask if you wanted a drink.”
you hold up your half-finished cup.
he eyes it. “that’s not a real drink.”
“it’s pink.” (we all know what happens w satoru and the pink juice wink wink)
“exactly,” he says, like that proves his point.
you should walk away. you should say you’re here with someone, that you’re leaving soon, that you’re not good with crowds, whatever. instead, you let him guide you toward the kitchen. he doesn’t touch you again, but he keeps looking back—like he expects you to bolt.
you don’t.
he pours something clear and probably vomit-inducing into a new cup. hands it to you. nudges the rim toward your lips like he’s feeding you. you take a sip just to make him stop looking at you like that.
and that’s when you feel it. another presence.
he doesn’t speak. just moves in behind you.
you look up. it's ryomen sukuna.
you know him. everyone knows him. he doesn’t go to class but always shows up on the group project grade. he’s the one with the face tattoo, way too many facial piercings, the pinky ring, the reputation. he doesn’t flirt. he doesn’t try. he doesn’t need to.
he looks at you. not up and down—at you.
your stomach flips.
“you’re staring,” satoru says to him, grinning.
“she’s staring first,” sukuna says.
you flush.
“am not,” you murmur, mostly to your drink.
sukuna takes a sip of whatever’s in his cup. something darker. leans against the counter beside satoru like he’s always been there. doesn’t say anything else for a while, just listens as satoru keeps talking—to you, about you, near you. teasing, charming, stupid little jokes about class and how you’re “the girl who never makes eye contact but always knows the answers.”
you’re so busy trying to keep up with satoru that you almost don’t notice the way sukuna keeps watching. like he’s figuring something out.
you shift under the weight of it.
satoru notices. “you good?”
you nod.
he leans in, voice dropping like he’s letting you in on a secret. “we’re just fucking with you. you don’t have to look like we’re gonna eat you.”
you laugh, weak. “that’s not what i thought.”
but sukuna tilts his head. smirks.
“isn’t it?”
you tell yourself you’re only staying for one more drink.
but satoru hands you another cup—something golden and bubbly this time, and he makes a dumb comment about the ratio of soda to liquor like it’s a science experiment. you laugh. actually laugh. and he looks so pleased with himself you forget to be anxious for a second.
sukuna doesn’t talk much. doesn’t try to charm you. but he’s still there, sipping slow from the same cup like he’s not even trying to catch a buzz, just waiting. he leans on the counter beside you like he’s carved into it. every time someone passes by, he shifts subtly—not enough to be obvious, but enough that they don’t brush you. he doesn’t say anything about it. doesn’t say much at all. just watches you sip your drink like he’s waiting for your lips to slip on the rim.
twenty minutes pass. maybe more. you’re warm now. fuzzy at the edges. everything’s a little funnier. you say something dumb—some offhand comment about how guys like them don’t talk to girls like you—and immediately want to sink into the floor. but satoru just throws his head back and laughs like you told a great joke.
“what kind of guys are we, then?” he asks, grinning. “be specific.”
you open your mouth. close it. shrug.
he leans in, voice lower now, almost smug. “you think we’re hot.”
“i never said that.”
“you didn’t have to.”
before satoru can say anything else, comes a voice entering the kitchen you barely recognize.
“there you fuckers are.”
toji.
black tee, smug expression, red solo cup in hand and probably half a blunt tucked behind his ear. he doesn’t look tired or drunk or like he’s been searching for anyone. he looks entertained. like walking in on this exact moment was the highlight of his night.
“we’re doing spin the bottle,” he says. “living room. you’re playing. bring your little friend.”
you blink. “i—what?”
“you,” he nods at you like this is obvious. “with the glasses. you’re cute. come on.”
“she doesn’t have to play if she doesn’t want to,” satoru says, casually. easy smile, one hand thrown over the back of the couch like he’s just stretching.
“she’ll play,” sukuna says. and when you turn to look at him, he’s already standing.
you should say no. should stay in the kitchen and pretend you didn’t hear. but your legs are moving before you finish the thought. satoru’s already guiding you to your feet with a light touch to your waist, and toji’s halfway out the door like he knows you’ll follow.
maybe it’s the drinks. maybe it’s the way both of them look at you like you’re something shiny and new. maybe it’s the fact that your brain is no longer fully in charge of your body.
you follow.
the circle is already half-formed when you sit down—knees brushing satoru’s, shoulders tense, your cup refilled without you realizing it. the living room’s dim except for the kitchen light bleeding in and the warm orange glow from a string of fake neon signs. someone’s playing music low through a speaker, but most of the sound comes from the people—laughing, yelling, groaning dramatically at the dares.
you try to sit small, like you don’t want to take up space, but satoru flops next to you, legs spread, knee touching yours like he’s done it a hundred times. sukuna’s across the circle. still. watching. he hasn’t looked away from you since you sat down. his hand rests on his knee, thumb tapping the rim of his cup, slow. deliberate.
the bottle spins.
someone gets dared to take their shirt off. someone else gets dared to suck a shot of whipped cream off the nearest neck. the energy is climbing. looser. heavier. your skin feels too hot, your drink too sweet. you’re about to excuse yourself—bathroom or air or anything—when the bottle stops.
and it’s pointing at you.
toji grins like he’s been waiting for this all night.
“truth or dare, sweetheart?”
you freeze. you want to say truth. you should say truth. but then your eyes flick to sukuna—silent, sprawled out, the corner of his mouth twitching like he already knows what you’re going to pick.
“dare,” you say, so quietly it barely counts.
toji doesn’t even hesitate. “make out with sukuna. thirty seconds.”
you swear your soul leaves your body. the room erupts—oohs and groans and someone already pulling out their phone to record, probably. you sit frozen, wide-eyed, heart hammering so hard it makes your palms go numb. you open your mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to run—but then sukuna’s voice cuts through it all.
“you heard him,” he says, lazy and low, legs spread wide. “c’mere.”
you could say no. no one’s forcing you. the game’s stupid. you’re drunk. you don’t owe anyone anything.
but he’s looking at you like he already knows you won’t say it. like he knows your thighs are clenching just from the idea of putting your mouth on his.
and he’s right.
you crawl toward him slow, cheeks on fire, limbs not entirely steady. he doesn’t move to meet you—just watches, dark eyes hooded, waiting until you’re kneeling between his legs. someone says “time it,” and someone else shouts “go,” and then—
his hands come up to cup your face. and he kisses you.
not quite soft. not careful. but not rough either—just firm. he licks into your mouth without hesitation, like it’s his, like he’s doing you a favor letting you taste him in front of everyone. his thumb strokes your cheek as his tongue slides against yours. your head spins.
you forget about the circle. forget about the rules. the sounds. the countdown. all of it.
you melt into him like it’s instinct.
he kisses like he knows how sensitive your mouth is. like he’s testing it. like he’s trying to figure out how you’d sound with his fingers inside you, his cock rubbing slow against your soaked panties.
when his teeth catch your bottom lip, you whimper.
his thumb presses under your chin. “thirty seconds,” someone says, breathless.
he doesn’t stop right away. just drags it out one more second—one last filthy kiss, spit-slick and hot—before pulling back and wiping your lip with his thumb like he owns you now.
you’re still kneeling. still trying to catch your breath.
he looks down at you, half-lidded and smug. “better than your little library fantasies?”
you don’t answer. your thighs are shaking.
you crawl back to your seat like your legs don’t fully work, face on fire, mouth tingling. you don’t even register that satoru’s hand is already on your leg again until it squeezes.
“how you feeling, baby genius?” he whispers, leaning in close, voice brushing the shell of your ear.
you can’t think. can’t breathe.
and you haven’t even gotten to his turn yet.
you’re still trying to collect yourself when the bottle spins again.
you’re not even paying attention this time—your lips are swollen, your pulse is all over the place, and sukuna’s looking at you like he could eat you alive and wouldn’t even need a drink after. you barely register the laughter until you hear someone say it:
“satoru. skinny dip. fountain out front.”
you blink.
satoru grins like they just handed him the crown. “that’s it?”
“naked,” toji adds, lazy. “no boxers. no sneaky shit.”
“in and out,” someone else chimes. “minimum fifteen seconds.”
“you guys are so unoriginal,” satoru sighs dramatically, already standing up and peeling his shirt over his head. “and jealous.”
your brain short-circuits.
his shirt hits the floor and you immediately look away. not fast enough. his torso is unfair—clean cut, gleaming just slightly under the lights like the universe put a filter on him. someone whistles. someone else yells, “show us the dick, satoru!” and he just blows them a kiss.
“you coming?” he says, suddenly looking straight at you.
you freeze. “what?”
his smirk is a little mean. “to watch.”
the group erupts again.
your mouth opens. no sound comes out.
“she’s already wet,” sukuna mutters, loud enough for just you to hear.
you slap his arm. he doesn’t flinch. just grins into his drink.
before you can even decide what you’re doing, you’re on your feet, following satoru and half the party outside. the night air hits you like a wall—cool, loud, full of moths and porchlight and the smell of someone grilling hot dogs at midnight.
the fountain isn’t big. it’s barely a fountain. just a decorative pool of water with a little statue of a cupid pissing into it. but satoru treats it like a fucking stage. he kicks his shoes off dramatically, tosses his pants at someone filming, and then—without hesitation, drops his boxers.
someone shrieks. you’re pretty sure you stop breathing.
he’s so casual about it. like he does this every weekend. he’s smirking, fully naked, body stupidly perfect, and doesn’t even cover himself as he steps into the fountain and sinks down with a splash. water flies everywhere. someone cheers.
he doesn’t look away from you the whole time.
fifteen seconds pass. no one’s counting. he’s reclining, arms up on the stone rim, hair wet, abs glinting. like he’s posing.
he points at you.
“you’re next, baby genius.”
you nearly collapse.
you’re still standing there like your feet forgot how to work when someone yells it.
“nah, nah—she has to get in too.”
the crowd goes feral immediately. laughter, clapping, someone chanting your name even though you’re pretty sure they don’t actually know it. you feel your stomach drop straight through the concrete.
you shake your head. “i—no, i don’t—”
“c’mon,” satoru says, still lounging in the fountain like he belongs there. water dripping from his hair, eyes bright, grin lazy and dangerous. “you already came all the way out here. don’t leave me alone.”
“that’s not fair,” you say weakly.
toji laughs. “spin the bottle rules. dare’s a dare.”
you look back toward the house. then at the fountain. then at sukuna, who hasn’t moved, hasn’t spoken—just watching you with that same heavy look, arms crossed, like he already knows how this ends.
he tilts his head and shrugs. “you don’t have to.”
your heart stutters. because he says it like he means it.
but then satoru reaches out, palm resting on the stone edge of the fountain, fingers spread. open. inviting. “only if you want to,” he adds, quieter now. “no pressure.”
everyone’s watching. waiting.
your cheeks burn. your chest feels tight. and you realize—disturbingly—that part of you wants it. wants to do the stupid thing. wants to feel reckless and hot and seen for once.
you kick off your shoes.
the cheering explodes again.
you don’t strip. you don’t have to. you step in with your clothes, heart racing, water cold as hell around your ankles, then your calves, then your thighs. you gasp involuntarily and satoru laughs.
“easy,” he says, shifting closer. “i got you.”
you wade in until you’re crouched between his knees, water lapping at your hips, the already tight skirt you came in, clinging uncomfortably. he’s still looking at you like that—like you’re the best part of the dare.
someone starts counting. ten seconds. fifteen. you lose track.
the night feels unreal. the water. the noise. the way sukuna’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second. the way satoru leans in just enough that his breath brushes your cheek.
“you’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“it’s kinda cold,” you lie.
he smiles. “sure.”
when the time’s up, no one says anything. no one tells you to get out. the crowd starts thinning. the attention fades. people wander inside. someone yells about shots in the kitchen. music shifts.
you’re still in the water when sukuna walks all the way out, alone now, hoodie gone, sleeves pushed up. he raises an eyebrow at the sight of you sitting in satoru’s lap like it’s normal now. like you’re not freezing and soaked and overwhelmed.
“you gonna stay out here all night?” he says, lighting a blunt with one hand.
you should say no. should get up. dry off. call a ride.
instead you look at satoru.
“my room’s closer than hers,” he says to sukuna, totally calm.
sukuna doesn’t respond. just turns, heads back inside.
and you follow. no one tells you to. you just go.
you trail dripping footprints through the hallway. past the living room. up the stairs. the music downstairs fades into something quieter.
satoru opens the door to a room that smells like laundry and cologne and something sweet—like vanilla or body lotion or both. sukuna’s already there, leaning on the dresser like he never left. he watches you walk in. watches you shiver.
you don’t know who shuts the door behind you.
but it clicks shut.
satoru’s still shirtless from the dare, only a towel wrapped around his hips. his chest glows in the warm lamplight, damp and flushed. his hair sticks to his forehead. he looks at you like he’s still in the fountain. still waiting for you to come closer.
but it’s sukuna who moves first.
he doesn’t speak. doesn’t smirk. just pushes off the dresser slow, and walks toward you like he’s already seen the ending. he stops when there’s maybe a foot between you—maybe less. his eyes drop to your chest.
your shirt is soaked. you forgot. or maybe you didn’t.
the fabric sticks to your skin like a second layer. completely see-through now. your bra’s thin and pale pink and practically invisible under the water. you cross your arms over your chest without thinking.
sukuna’s eyes flick back to yours.
“don’t,” he says, low.
you freeze.
he reaches out, slow, and curls his fingers around your wrist—gentle. not forcing anything.
satoru’s behind you now. close enough to feel. he doesn’t touch you yet. just speaks, soft and teasing at your shoulder. “you’re freezing, baby. let’s get this off, yeah?”
your throat’s dry. you nod once.
sukuna lifts the hem of your shirt.
he moves slowly. peels it up, over your hips, your stomach, your ribs. the wet fabric clings, heavy, dragging across your skin like it doesn’t want to let go. your breath stutters when it passes over your chest. you feel satoru’s hand come up to help—fingertips brushing the small of your back as he eases the fabric over your head.
you’re standing in nothing but your soaked skirt and a nearly transparent bra.
you feel stripped. exposed. and somehow, still completely safe.
neither of them say anything.
sukuna drops the shirt behind him without looking. his hand stays on your waist.
“you’re shivering,” he murmurs.
“get her a towel,” he says to satoru without looking away from you.
satoru grins. “gonna warm her up yourself?”
“maybe.”
he disappears into the bathroom, and you’re left alone with sukuna in the silence. your breathing’s too loud. his hand is still on your bare waist, thumb brushing the damp curve of your skin. your eyes flick up to his mouth. he notices.
“tell me if you want to stop,” he says, voice low, eyes unreadable.
you don’t.
he doesn’t rush.
his hand is still on your waist, steady, thumb brushing in lazy strokes like he’s feeling out your heartbeat. your skin’s still damp. cold in places. your bra clings to you like an afterthought. his eyes drag down your chest, over the soft curve of your stomach, and back up to your face like he’s debating how far he wants to take this—or how long he wants to make you wait.
you can’t look away.
he leans in slow.
your breath catches. your lips part. it’s instinct—your body tipping into his before your mind can catch up. your fingers twitch at your sides. your knees feel useless.
he doesn’t kiss you right away.
he hovers.
so close you can feel the heat of his breath. the scent of his skin—smoke and soap. his hand slides up, fingers curling around the side of your neck, his thumb settling just beneath your jaw.
“you gonna let me in, baby?” he murmurs, so quiet it almost doesn’t reach you.
you nod. maybe. you think you do. you don't even know if you say it out loud.
but he hears you. he closes the distance.
his mouth presses to yours slow—lips warm, soft at first, patient. he lets it sink in, lets you feel every part of it. the weight. the heat. the way his thumb strokes your cheek just once, like you’re something precious and breakable.
then he tilts his head, kisses you again—deeper. hungrier. his tongue brushes yours, and your hands catch in the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the floor.
you make a sound into his mouth—small. desperate.
he groans low in his chest and pulls you closer by the waist, bare skin sliding against his palm, damp and warm and perfect.
you don’t even notice satoru coming back until you hear his voice, from behind you: “you guys started without me?”
you break the kiss, dizzy, flushed.
sukuna doesn’t look away from you. “we were waiting,” he says.
satoru’s already grinning.
his hair’s damp. he’s holding the towel, half-forgotten, like he only came back to see the look on your face—lips kiss-bitten, pupils wide, sukuna’s hand still wrapped firm around your waist like he hasn’t decided to let go yet.
satoru steps closer. “cute,” he says, almost to himself.
he drops the towel onto the bed and leans in, one hand coming up to cradle your jaw, tilting your face toward him with just enough pressure to make you shiver.
“can i kiss you too?” he asks, like you’re not already leaning into it. like you didn’t just gasp into sukuna’s mouth thirty seconds ago like it was the only thing keeping you alive.
you nod. shaky.
his smile softens. “good girl.”
he kisses you slower.
softer, sweeter—lips warm and plush and gentle like he’s trying to erase every thought from your head that isn’t him. his other hand ghosts over your hip, barely touching, like he’s seeing how little he has to do to make you tremble.
and god, you do.
he licks into your mouth like he has forever. groans when you arch closer without meaning to. mutters “fuck, you’re already so responsive” against your lips like it’s the best part of his night.
behind you, sukuna’s hand slips lower.
settles heavy on your hip, fingers dragging slow across the waistband of your soaked skirt before slipping it down your legs. you gasp into satoru’s mouth again. he smiles against you.
his hand moves lower too.
over your stomach. brushing the edge of your bra. not quite touching, not yet—but he’s watching your eyes flicker, your chest rise, your mouth part again like you’re already begging.
you don’t say stop. you say nothing.
you don’t remember how you got to the bed. you just remember hands.
satoru’s fingers brushing the back of your thigh. sukuna’s palm steady between your shoulder blades. the way the backs of your knees hit the mattress, and then you were down—spine meeting the sheets, breath catching in your throat like you weren’t ready, even though you were already so far gone.
satoru leans over you first. he kisses you again—deeper now. not slow. not teasing. his mouth is open and wet and needy, tongue sliding against yours with this kind of hungry sweetness that makes your head spin. he kisses you like he missed you. like this is what he’s been waiting for all night. like he’s already thinking about how you’ll sound when you fall apart.
his hand cups your cheek, cradles your jaw, thumbs at your lip when he pulls back just enough to look at you.
“you okay, baby?” he asks, voice low and thick.
you nod. can’t speak.
you feel sukuna behind him. feel the mattress shift at your side, his fingers brushing your leg.
his hand slides up the inside of your thigh, knuckles grazing your damp skin as he drags them toward your soaked panties. satoru kisses you again, just as sukuna’s fingers press against the thin fabric.
you jolt.
satoru swallows the sound.
sukuna groans right by your ear. “fuck,” he mutters, like it hurts him. “she’s soaked.”
you are. humiliatingly so. your panties cling to your cunt, useless. your hips twitch, breath shaking, and your fingers curl in the sheets before you can stop them.
sukuna rubs over the fabric once. slow.
satoru breaks the kiss to look down at your face.
“pretty girl,” he breathes, smiling. “so sensitive.”
you whimper.
you’re still kinda clothed, and yet somehow, you feel like you’re already bare. your bra clings to you, still wet. your panties stick between your legs. your thighs keep tensing on instinct, but sukuna just spreads them further with one hand, keeps his other on your pussy like it belongs there.
and then he says it.
“you ever been touched like this before?”
your whole body goes still. you can barely shake your head.
you don’t even realize you’re shaking until satoru kisses your throat.
he’s smiling against your skin, like he has all the time in the world to taste you. his lips trail down to your collarbone, wet and open-mouthed, then lower, over the curve of your bra where your nipples are already peeking through the damp fabric.
he groans against you. “fuck, baby,” he murmurs, teeth grazing lightly. “you’re begging and i haven’t even touched your pretty tits yet.”
you’re not begging. not out loud. but your hips twitch with every breath. your fingers keep curling in the sheets like they’re trying to anchor you to something. and sukuna—god—sukuna’s still between your legs, eyes fixed on the way your cunt throbs through the soaked cotton like it’s a problem only he gets to solve.
his fingers hook the side of your panties. tug slow. not off. just aside.
you gasp—sharp, high. the cool air hits your pussy before he even touches you, and it’s almost too much. your thighs close on instinct.
his hand pushes them open again.
“keep ‘em spread,” he says, quiet but commanding. “you wanna be good, don’t you?”
you nod.
satoru’s already mouthing over your bra, tongue circling your nipple through the fabric, lips wet, humming like he’s so proud of you for being this worked up. then he tugs the cup down with one hand, exposes your breast fully, and sucks.
you cry out. can’t help it.
and that’s when sukuna slides two fingers through your folds. not in. not yet. just a drag, collecting your slick and groaning under his breath.
“fuck, you’re dripping,” he mutters, thumb pressing just under your clit. “you ever been this wet for anyone before?”
your head shakes. your voice breaks.
satoru kisses the top of your breast, breathless with a grin. “course she hasn’t. nobody’s ever touched her right.”
“they will now,” sukuna mutters, and then—he circles your clit with two fingers.
your back arches. your hips jerk. your mouth opens, no sound coming out. satoru keeps sucking gently on your tit, fingers curling under the other one, pinching, playing, lips dragging sweet over sensitive skin.
“you like that, sweetheart?” sukuna murmurs, pressing a little harder, teasing little circles that make your thighs tremble. “gonna let me make you cum just like this?”
you nod. voice gone. breath gone.
satoru kisses up your chest, back to your mouth, and laughs softly against your lips when you moan. “so responsive,” he breathes. “you gonna fall apart already, baby? you’re shaking so much.”
sukuna doesn’t warn you. he doesn’t have to.
his fingers are already slick with you, slow circles on your clit turning into something needier, something that makes your toes curl and your breath catch in your throat. he leans in closer, body crowding between your knees like he’s settling in for a meal, and his voice drops lower.
“breathe,” he murmurs, “gonna slip in nice and slow, alright?”
you nod. it’s instinct. desperate. like your body already knows this is happening and just wants to make it easier for you.
his middle finger pushes in first, deeper than anything you’ve ever felt. your walls clench around him immediately, like your body can’t tell if it wants more or less, and you gasp into satoru’s mouth like you’re trying to disappear inside him.
“there it is,” sukuna mutters, like he felt the second he hit your limit. “tight little pussy's never been fucked, huh?”
you shake your head.
satoru smiles against your lips. “you’re doing so good for us, baby. look at you. takin’ his finger like you were made for it.”
you’re not sure what you’re doing—moaning or whining or begging—but it spills out of you anyway. your hips lift. your thighs twitch. and then sukuna adds a second finger.
you break.
it’s too much. not in a painful way, but in a way that steals your breath. you’ve touched yourself before. you’ve fantasized, dreamed, squirmed through sheets alone in the dark—but nothing like this. nothing that makes your whole body burn and your brain go empty.
satoru’s lips find your jaw, then your throat, nipping lightly, breathing praise straight into your skin.
“you feel it?” he whispers. “feel how good he’s making you feel?”
“mhm,” you whimper, eyes wet, thighs shaking. “too good—feels too—”
“nah,” sukuna says, voice rough, “this is nothing, sweetheart. just wait till you’re stuffed full.”
his fingers curl. you jerk.
the heel of his hand grinds against your clit while he fucks you slow, deep, like he’s learning your body one stroke at a time. and he’s good at it. too good. he groans low under his breath when he feels you clench around him—“fuck, she’s pulsing”—and satoru kisses you through it again, moaning against your tongue.
“you’re gonna cum, huh?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “go on, baby. let us see what it looks like.”
your legs are shaking. your fingers dig into satoru’s shoulders. sukuna fucks you with those two perfect fingers like he owns your pussy now, like it’s his to break open and ruin. and you don’t want to stop it. you don’t even know if you can.
you cum hard. shuddering. gasping. mouth falling open against satoru’s, back arching like you’re trying to climb out of your own skin. sukuna groans low when he feels it—feels your cunt squeezing him, dripping, messy.
“fuck, that’s pretty,” he mutters.
you go boneless.
satoru laughs. “one down,” he says, brushing your hair back. “think she’s got a few more in her.”
sukuna’s still got his fingers between your legs. just there—wet and warm, two thick fingers resting inside you like a reminder of everything he just did. his palm is soaked. your thighs are trembling. and the way his thumb strokes lazy circles just beneath your clit feels like an unspoken threat. like he knows exactly how close you are to cumming again, and he’s not in a rush to let you.
satoru kisses your cheek, then your jaw, nudging your face toward his with his nose. “hey,” he murmurs. “you still with us?”
you blink up at him, dazed. “mhm,” you manage. it’s barely a sound.
he grins, all white teeth and messy hair, and presses his forehead to yours. “good,” he says. “because i’ve been waiting all night.”
you gasp softly when sukuna finally pulls his fingers out. you feel empty—needy again, even though your body’s still buzzing from the last orgasm. you don’t get a chance to complain, though, because satoru’s already shifting between your thighs, cock heavy and flushed and dragging over your inner thigh as he lines himself up.
“you’re so wet,” he whispers, voice reverent. “fuck, angel, you’re dripping for us.”
he pushes in slowly. your head tips back with a gasp, eyes fluttering. he’s thick. not just full but deep—his hips rolling forward inch by inch, spreading you open so slow it makes your toes curl. you’re already stretched from sukuna’s fingers, already wrecked, but this is different. better. more.
satoru shudders. “shit—fuck, she’s tight—”
you clutch at his forearms, hips twitching up instinctively. he sinks in the rest of the way with a soft groan, forehead still pressed to yours.
“feel that?” he whispers. “all the way inside you, baby. you’re taking me so good.”
and you are.
he starts to move. slow at first, rocking into you like he has all the time in the world. his cock drags against your walls, hits something deep that makes your breath catch, and you cling to him harder, legs spreading wider, thighs sticky against the sheets.
behind him, sukuna watches.
he’s propped on one arm, the other hand resting on your waist again—thumb stroking mindlessly, eyes glued to the place where satoru’s cock disappears inside you. “watch her face,” he mutters. “watch how she moans when you fuck her just right.”
satoru adjusts his angle and fucks in deeper.
you cry out—your back arching up into him. he grabs your thigh and presses it up against your chest, hips pressing deeper, harder, filling you to the brim. it’s almost too much. but it’s also perfect.
“you’re close again,” satoru pants. “aren’t you, baby?”
you nod frantically, unable to speak. satoru doesn’t stop. just leans down, kisses you messily, and fucks you through the second orgasm he knows is coming.
“yeah?” sukuna says behind him. “let her mouth do something.”
satoru hums. “mm, she can take you?”
“we’re about to find out.”
you blink, still dazed, as sukuna shifts beside you—kneeling just past your head now, cock thick and heavy, already flushed from watching you get split open. he doesn’t say anything at first. just lets his hand rest in your hair, fingers threading through, thumb stroking along your cheek.
“you wanna be good for me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, voice low. “open up.”
you do.
your lips part, shaky and soft, and sukuna groans when you let him guide his cock to your mouth. he starts slow—just the head, warm and salty on your tongue, the weight of him heavy as he eases in. his hand tightens just slightly in your hair, his other hand resting over your breast, palm rough and familiar.
“fuck,” he hisses. “that’s it. keep your lips soft, just like that.”
satoru is still fucking you—slow, deep strokes that make your body jolt with every thrust. his hand is on your thigh, holding you open, thumb brushing where you’re stretched around him like he wants to memorize how you feel. and now sukuna’s in your mouth, hips rolling forward as he pushes deeper, letting you feel the weight of him on your tongue, your lips stretched wide.
“jesus,” satoru pants, watching the way your throat works around sukuna’s cock. “look at her.”
you can barely breathe—but you don’t want to stop.
sukuna groans, hips stuttering forward again, cock slick with spit as you try to take more. “fuckin’—knew you’d suck dick like this. look at you.”
his grip in your hair tightens. his hips rock a little deeper, eyes dark as he watches your mouth stretch around him, cheeks hollowed out like you want to make him lose control. and you do.
satoru slows his thrusts. not out of mercy—just to watch. his hand slides to your stomach, palm splayed out over the skin there, feeling the way you tighten every time sukuna groans. “she’s clenching on me,” he says, laughing. “you’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”
sukuna’s cock slides deeper again—your nose brushing his pelvis, your throat tightening around him. he moans, sharp and low. “fuck, baby. you’re not gonna let me cum down your throat, are you?”
satoru laughs. “nah, not yet.”
he fucks into you hard enough to make your cry vibrate around sukuna’s dick. “she’s not done down here either.”
you’re still panting when sukuna slides out of your mouth, fingers brushing your cheek like he’s proud of the mess he made. your jaw aches, throat sore, but you don’t complain. not with satoru still buried inside you, hips grinding slow and deep like he’s trying to draw every last moan out of you.
then satoru pulls out.
“switch,” sukuna says, voice low and rough.
he’s already behind you by the time you blink, hand slipping beneath your stomach to help guide you over—face down, ass up, hips angled perfect as he climbs onto the bed and gets between your legs. his palm spreads across your lower back, pressing down. “stay just like that,” he mutters.
and then he’s pushing in.
you whimper, fingers fisting the sheets as sukuna bottoms out in one slow, thick stroke. your whole body jolts—his cock stretching you wider than satoru’s, deeper somehow, the burn of it curling sharp and sweet up your spine.
“fuck,” sukuna grits. “you’re tight. already stuffed full of him and still—” he cuts himself off with a groan, hips snapping forward harder.
your gasp turns into a choked moan.
and satoru? he doesn’t miss a beat.
he’s standing at the edge of the bed, lazily stroking himself as he watches sukuna fuck you. “you’re really takin’ it, huh?” he says, grinning as he brushes sweaty strands of hair from your face. “you wanna help me out too, pretty thing?”
you nod, dazed.
he steps in closer, guides your mouth open again, and you let him slide in—your lips wrapping around him just as sukuna slams forward. the thrust rocks you onto satoru’s cock, and suddenly you’re the perfect toy between them—sukuna driving into you from behind, satoru groaning as you suck him slow and messy from the front.
“jesus,” satoru hisses, voice strained. “she’s drooling all over me.”
sukuna grunts, fucking you harder now, his grip bruising at your hips. “she likes it,” he growls. “look how sloppy she’s getting. you close again, baby?”
you try to answer, but your mouth’s full—your throat clenching around satoru as tears prick the corners of your eyes. he pets your hair, soft and smug. “think that’s a yes.”
sukuna fucks you rougher, angled just right—his balls slapping wetly against your thighs, each thrust hitting deep enough to leave you shaking.
“gonna cum,” he growls. “gonna fill this pussy up.”
and you’re close too—closer than you should be, with your mouth stretched around satoru and your body trembling from the force of sukuna’s thrusts.
you don’t know which one of you finishes first. but you swear the world blanks out when you do.
sukuna’s thrusts slow. his grip bruising tight at your waist as he fucks in deep one last time—spilling into you with a low, feral groan, hips grinding as he makes sure it stays. you feel it. every pulse of it. hot and thick.
you moan, weak and breathless, around satoru’s cock.
he slides free from your mouth with a hiss, fingers dragging down your spine as he watches sukuna’s cum drip out the second he pulls back.
“holy fuck,” satoru murmurs, eyes blown wide. “look at that.”
you feel it leaking instantly. warm and slow down your inner thighs, smeared across the insides of your knees. you collapse forward with a shaky gasp, face pressing into the sheets as your legs give out. your body’s trembling. ruined.
sukuna groans behind you, dragging his fingers down the seam of your ass—spreading you just enough to watch it spill from your pussy. “fuck, baby,” he mutters. “you made a mess.”
satoru’s hand strokes your hip. “can’t believe you took us both like that,” he murmurs. “so proud of you.”
you can’t speak. can’t move. everything’s hot and slick and glowing under your skin, every nerve buzzing with aftershock.
sukuna flops back beside you, arm tucked under his head.
satoru climbs onto the mattress next, snuggling up behind your back like it’s nothing. like this is just how the night ends. like this is normal.
you’re still catching your breath when someone reaches for the blanket. and everything fades to black.
present day
you wake up warm. that’s the first thing. warm and sore and weirdly… safe. the blanket’s tangled somewhere around your knees, one of your socks is still on, and your mouth tastes like cheap vodka and lip gloss. your head’s pounding. your eyes won’t open all the way. your body aches in places you don’t even have names for. but you’re not alone.
there’s an arm around your waist. a heavy, bare thigh pressed behind yours. someone breathing against the back of your neck. slow, steady, like they’ve been asleep for hours. and in front of you—there’s another body. taller, sprawled out, hair messy, cheek smushed into the same pillow as yours. his arm is under your head like you’d been holding it.
satoru’s hair is white-blond and soft-looking even now, even in sleep. his lips are parted just slightly. his breath smells like spearmint and sugar. he has glitter on his cheekbone. you don’t know if it’s yours or his.
behind you—sukuna. you can tell without turning. you can feel him. his fingers are curled just under the hem of your shirt, palm hot against your stomach like he owns the right to be there. one of his rings digs gently into your skin every time he breathes. and you don’t move. not yet.
you’re not wearing pants. or a bra. or—god. you don’t even want to check.
your glasses are nowhere to be found. your thighs are sticky. the room smells like sweat and cologne. and the longer you lie there, the more your brain starts to fill in the blanks. flashes. laughing. lights. someone’s hands on your waist. someone else’s mouth on your chest. sukuna’s voice in your ear, “you’re taking us so well, sweetheart.”
you inhale sharply. satoru stirs. the arm around your waist tightens. “you good?” he mumbles, eyes still closed, voice thick with sleep.
you don’t answer right away. your pulse is going insane. your phone is dead. your mouth is dry. and you’re lying in the bed of two boys you’ve never said more than five words to—at least not before last night.
“hello?” satoru mumbles again, this time with a small yawn.
you nod, but it’s half-hearted. your voice cracks. “yeah.”
his eyes open slowly—bright and unfocused. they flick down, and then trail lower, past the blanket barely covering your thighs. a lazy smirk starts curling at the corner of his mouth.
“you sure?” he says. “’cause you look kinda… wrecked.”
you groan, pressing your face into the pillow. he laughs, like he already knows every thought running through your head.
“don’t bully her,” sukuna’s voice cuts in behind you. deeper. raspier. his hand spreads wider on your stomach, palm flexing just slightly. “she took us like a champ.”
you feel your entire body go hot.
“please stop talking,” you mutter, still hiding.
“but you were so loud last night,” satoru hums, like he’s just remembering. “i think i’m still hard, actually.”
you make a noise of protest—small and pitiful—and try to roll over, but sukuna’s arm tightens around your waist, holding you in place.
“don’t move,” he murmurs, low against your neck. “not done cuddling yet.”
“not done embarrassing me yet, either,” you grumble.
satoru grins. “what’s to be embarrassed about? you were kind of amazing.”
you peek out from under the pillow. “kind of?”
he tilts his head. “okay, like… very amazing. ten out of ten. would absolutely do again.”
“same,” sukuna adds, lips brushing your skin. “if she wants to, that is.”
you go quiet.
and for a second, it’s weird. real. like the whole thing might shift into something too heavy. but then satoru breaks it.
“so, like—do you want waffles or a protein bar? i’m starving. and my legs don’t work.”
you snort. “waffles, obviously.”
he grins, like it’s the best answer you could’ve given. and sukuna just hums again behind you, nosing at your hair like he’s already dozing off again.
and maybe you’re still sore. maybe your mouth still tastes like tequila and glitter and someone else’s skin.
but you don’t feel weird.
you feel—okay. and that’s somehow the scariest part of all.
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but nothing about the way the nerd fucked was pretty.
“oh my… oh fuckkkk,” he groans into the crook of your neck, sinking into the warmth between your legs like your essence was heaven sent, fringed ivory lashes fluttering beneath his fogged up frames.
the two of you were supposed to be studying for uni finals together right now. both of your mom’s were childhood best friends, expecting the two of you to hit it off eventually around middle school if they kept nudging the two of you closer.
to make a long story short, initially you didn’t get along—you irritated that a pubescent, awkward nerd that lived off of run-on sentences six octaves too high had to pick up your slack in school, and he would do your assignments when you went to hang out with your friends, confined to his digimon decorated bedroom like some loser. but sometime after high school graduation, when gojo started to grow into himself and find his social standing, you felt something in you drawing towards him.
that shit-eating grin, the sleeper build, the charming and casual confidence.
one tipsy frat party later at the university you both fought tooth and nail to get into where he couldn’t stop staring down at your cleavage with those frightening frosted irises of his, you’d dragged him to a bedroom and rode him like you’d been fantasizing for months. leaving him milked and drained, you had left with an afterglow.
and it was fucking intoxicating. his slender cock that could reach the sweet spots no other guys could, his taunts that made you dizzy, his soft hands tracing the length of your skin…
neither of you could get enough.
now? the only way to describe your… involvement, would be friends who fucked. friends with benefits. sneaky links. whatever you could call that grey area.
your palm comes up to cover his mouth and muffle his moans. peeking up and over his shoulder to your closed bedroom door, you grit your teeth and huff, digging your ankles into the small of his back. “quiet,” you hiss. “my mom is quite literally downstairs,” you rustle beneath your breath.
sheepishly, he smirks, all pussy-drunk and cute, making your heart cinch. “sorry, baby. i get carried away when you’re squeezing me l-like thattt,” he contests all-whiny, leaning down to connect your lips to his.
they slot over perfectly, like they were made for each other. he tastes like the slice of pumpkin pie your mom had given him that he’d finished in no less than three bites.
your legs tighten around his tapered waist, the base of his cock swelling inside of you when he buries himself to the hilt. he groans into your mouth, which rattles around the cavity of his chest, his bulbous tip sweeping pre-cum against your puckered cervix and dragging against your g-spot. god, you’re so plush and warm he might cum inside you. again.
you’d slapped him when he did it last time.
“m-might have to put a muzzle on you,” you giggle softly, stroking his tongue with your own.
“can do…” he pulls away and huffs against your cheek, a shallow thrust leaving him breathless. “can do whateverrrrr you want to me, pretty.”
pretty. you could argue that he’s the prettiest here.
his hands find the velvety underside of your thighs, before he’s pinning them to your bare chest. jaded blue eyes blown wide appraise you in this new position—puffy folds slick with your mixed arousal glistening in the gentle bedroom light, your core fluttering around his length just an inch deep, desperate to be fucked. a lewd display for your childhood bedroom littered in soft pastels and plushies, but neither of you seem to mind.
suddenly, the air is knocked from your lungs when he slams a practically rough stroke into you, punching a groan from your gut.
“t-toru! i said soft, or else i-i,” you stutter, eyes nearly rolling into your skull. “can’t keep it in…” you trail off under your breath, nearly succumbing to overwhelming pleasure.
flushed cheeks, he chuckles all low and indulgent. “jus’ can’t help it when you’re all adorable and fuckable like this,” he admits, swiping a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “makes me wanna rearrange your guts.”
you whimper, watching as a glob of spit falls from his lips and hits your clit. warm, wet—you’re dizzy and twitching beneath him.
but then, he’s pistoning his cock inside of you, stretching you wide and full of him. you jostle and moan unabashedly. he tosses a pillow on top of your head, pressing it down over your face. “sorry, baby. you’ll j-just have to keep quiet for me,” he sighs dreamily, watching his cock disappear between your silky folds, dick spasming when you tighten up. you just swallow up every inch he gives you. so needy. so pretty.
mdni, mindreader!Satoru helps his pent-up housemate
You had long ago come to terms with the fact that your housemate Satoru was simply . . . odd. It had been a while since you gave up trying to hide all of your thoughts around the taller man, not matter how mundane or intimate they were.
The day Satoru admitted that he could read minds lingered close to the forefront of your subconscious. You hated it at first, feeling as though you had lost any sense of privacy. You also hated that your emotions weren’t your own anymore— you had to share them with him.
But as always, Satoru insisted that he wouldn't make it obvious that he was intruding into your mind. That much. He tried making light of the situation, validating you in your times of need— albeit somewhat teasingly. And at long last, you had gotten used to his little quirk, even finding it useful at times.
But that didn’t mean you necessarily enjoyed the fact that he had this godforsaken ability.
Most days, Satoru was, you know . . . okaaay, you supposed. He was convenient when he wanted to be, fetching you snacks when you felt the cravings creeping up on you. On other days, your housemate would flash you a grin and wiggle his eyebrows when your brain betrayed memories of your most vulnerable moments. To that, you'd simply tell him to fuck off after launching the nearest object in your vicinity at his face.
Unfortunately for you, however, there were days where your body was susceptible to running rampant with unholy thoughts— especially during your ovulation period. It was as if your mind refused to go in any direction apart from getting completely and utterly filled. The thoughts were unbearable at this point.
Even more so since Satoru could hear each and every depraved thought that circled around in your head.
It was only a matter of time before the phrase 'just friends' became meaningless. On that one fateful day, Satoru had been doing what he usually did. He'd lounge around on the couch, stretched his freakishly long arms in the air high enough for his shirt to ride high. You watched— no, blatantly ogled at the expanse of pale skin peaking out at you, teasing you. A patch of white hair led down from his stomach, under the waistband of his sweats, leading to what you craved the most.
Ugh, fuck. I can see it, and he's not even hard. Just pin me down already and—
Wait.
Satoru was staring right at you, lips parted in mild surprise, until a laugh ripped straight out of his chest. It made your stomach twist almost violently, and Satoru could hear your thoughts beginning to spiral out of panic.
Smug as ever, Satoru shuffled from his end of the couch to yours, his voice taking a sing-song lilt to it.
"Wooooow. If you wanted my cock that much, you could have told me, you know, instead of letting me believe that you were pissy over me stealing your snacks."
"Fuck off," you scoffed, legs crossing in a poor attempt to alleviate that increasing throb in your cunt. "I am mad at you for that, actually."
"Ah, ah ah. Don't try changing the topic on me now, sweetheart," cooed Satoru, flashing you a wolfish grin, "not when I can hear about how badly you need filling up."
You crossed your arms over your chest, the action not going unnoticed by Satoru. But the fight in your body was barely there, contradicting the shadow glare you shot his way. Deep down, you knew he was right. Of course, he was— your body ached almost painfully, your panties rendered sheer and drenched whenever you caught sight of his long fingers or his crotch.
Satoru knew the effect he had on you.
He knew of the raunchy fantasies you had, the ones involving his mouth on your body, his fingers stretching you open— even if you swore that they were all involuntary. When you finally dragged your eyes away from the sight of Satoru's sweats sitting low on his hips, you were met with the sight of a knowing smirk.
Satoru didn't mind waiting. He could feel the strain on your mind as you tried your damned hardest to keep your thoughts under control. By the time it was evening? You were trying your hardest not to fuck your hips down into the mattress, into your pillow, your fingers. Anything to help quench the undeniable arousal that clouded any sort of rationality you had left.
And when he finally cornered you, pinned you down onto your twisted sheets, the lewd images flashing in both of your minds only made him shut his eyes tight— the urge to grind the weight of his bulge against you impossible to ignore.
"Hear me out for a sec,” Satoru exhaled, grabby hands and whitened knuckles grazing the hem of your shirt. “I’ll give you everything, everything you’ve been dreaming about up here,” two long fingers tapped at your temple, “but you gotta say it all out. Can you do that f'me?"
Your lips tightened in a thin line as you debated to yourself, eyes shifting uneasil to the side. Good sex and potentially ruin a friendship, or reject his advances and continue living in shame at the fact that he could still read your mind?
"Ruin our friendship. I know you want to."
"Could you not interrupt my internal monologue? Please?" You practically hissed out, wiggling about some more under the taller man, because hello— you were still pinned under him?
A tut left Satoru's lips close to your ear as he had lowered his head, slotted a knee against your short-clad cunt. The heat radiating between made him dizzy, spurring him on further to get you to just confess already.
"I'm only helping you out, pretty girl. I know what you want, what you need. You just have to say it out loud. That's all."
Your mind was in a frenzy, and Satoru could hear it all. His chest tightened, breathing speeding up so that he was lightly panting. Dragging his hand up your thigh, his fingers tapped against the waistband of your shorts. The harsh sound of you sucking in a breath reached his ears. He chuckled, evidently amused.
"Is this where you want me? Right here?"
Oh, how condescendingly this asshole spoke to you. Satoru refused to give you wanted, not just yet. Manicured nails scratched gently at your hipbone, making you buck up into him. Laying a hand flat on you, Satoru halted your moments. "None of that. You know what you need to do if you want my fingers in your cunt."
“Satoru—” you mewled, arching up into his touch. He ground his knee further into you, dampening your underwear.
“God, I can feel you,” he murmured, pressing harder against the wet patch. “Pussy's louder than that pretty mouth of yours. Go on, baby. Say it."
Whilst the humiliation burned hot in your chest, you couldn't stop your thoughts from tumbling out of your mouth. You should have been ashamed of the whiny tone of your voice, but you couldn't bring yourself to do so.
"FuckmeFuckmeFuckme—"
"Atta girl. Was that so hard?"
Mild frustration bubbled up in your gut, but before you could fire back a scolding retort, Satoru was kissing you earnestly. You'd be lying if you said you hated it, or that it didn't feel right. In fact, you've never been so sure of somthing in your life— that his lips belonged on yours.
You felt his fingers finally hook into your shorts, tugging them down with your underwear. Satoru sucked in a harsh breath of air through is teeth, pupils blown wide as he caught sight of your pussy below.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned, thumbs spreading you apart. “Knew you’d be so messy for me.”
Slick fingers glided over your clit, leaving you keening breathlessly. He occasionally dipped lower but never gave you what you wanted. Of course, he teased you, letting his digits circle your clit lazily as you begged for more.
"Please, just put them in . . ."
"Oh? Someone's remembered her manners." You felt him prod at your hole, your hips chasing the slight movement. "Beg. Beg for your Toru to make you feel good."
“I-inside, please, I need them. I need you."
Satoru tipped his head back, cursing like your words alone could make him cum in his sweats. “That’s my girl.”
Two thick fingers pushed in without warning. Satoru curled his knuckles until he could feel you clenching down desperately. An obscene squelch filled the room, setting your face alight as he set a lagnuid rhythm. In and out, in and out he pumped, a thumb stroking your clit affectionately. Breathy mewls turned into pitched cries, your fingers digging into the mattress below.
“So fuckin' loud,” he murmured against your throat, sinking his fingers deeper before withdrawing. "If you're clenching like this around my fingers, what will my cock do to you. Hmm?"
The thought had your pussy spasming, your breath hitching in your chest. Satoru felt it all.
“I can hear it, y'know. You're thinking about my cock filling you up. Stretching you reaaal wide until you're fucked dumb.” He pressed his palm down onto your clit and dug in, grinding against it whilst scissoring his fingers. The orgasm washed over you all of a sudden, floods of heat rendering your body limp as your pussy spluttered out around him.
“Sweetest fuckin' thing I've ever tasted." You could barely crack open your bleary eyes, but once you did, you saw Satoru pulling his fingers out— only to shove the soaked digits into his mouth and suck them clean with his eyes rolling back in ecstacy.
Satoru didn't let you catch your breath. The voice in your mind screamed at him to continue, anyway. Who was he to deny your demands? In record time, he was shoving his sweats down his legs, tossing them to the side as he freed his cock.
It was thick. It was long. His tip was already flushed, dripping translucent liquid down the prominent, angry veins. Satoru stroked himself once. Twice. And then he lined his cock up against your hole.
“Do I even need to ask if you're ready for me?" He gritted out, pushing in with a grunt. Of course, he didn't have to ask— your mind was already begging him to breed you already.
You gasped, fingers reaching out to clutch his bicep desperately. “Please, Toru. Need— hah, need this so bad."
A low noise left the man, ragged and wrecked, before he pulled back. Satoru knew exactly how you liked it. He knew it before you did. The stretch burned, but the relief that followed made up for it. You could feel the thich inches pushing in, bit by bit, until he bottomed out. God, you swore you could feel his dewy tip kiss deep inside you.
“Tight." The singular word came out choked as Satoru's forehead dropped down to press against yours. "Gonna have to do this— fuck, a hell of a lot more if we want to loosen you up."
"Toru . . ."
The single word came out from you terribly hoarse and broken, spurring Satoru on to start moving. Long, purposeful thrusts rammed into you, making you claw down the broad expanse of his back. With every wet slap of his hips against yours, your cries grew louder. So did his own.
“Take it. Fuck- fucking take it,” he rasped out, hips snapping roughly against your ass. “What's on your mind, huh? Fuck, say it. I can hear it all anyway."
“D-don’t stop . . . ngh, feels sooo good—” you finally sobbed, the tears that had gathered at your lashes finally spilling whilst you locked your legs around his waist.
“Thaaat’s fucking right." Satoru had hiked your legs up onto his shoulders, sweat beginning to drip down his temple as he folded you in half. “Slutty pussy was made for me."
You nodded frantically, chest heaving from overexertion when he suddenly reached between you with deft fingers.
"Cumming—"
Spasm after tense spasm, your body sparked with the shocks of your second orgasm, all whilst Satoru rubbed your clit in rough circles, still fucking you like he had always dreamed of doing.
The second orgasm was more tense than the first, and Satoru could feel it all. He could hear your mind blank out— or at least feel the webs of unconsciousness beginning to take hold of you. Your own release set Satoru off, causing him to curse and bury himself for a final time right up to the hilt. His cum spilled hot, painting your insides white as he made sure that you could feel each and every pulse.
“Yesyesyes,” drawing out your name with a moan. “Take it, baby. Looking s-so good stuffed w'me."
His chest heaved in time with yours, a set of lips brushing your forehead as he brushed away the strands of hair there. He pressed soft kisses against your damp skin, grin having returned, utterly satisfied.
“Told you, didn't I?" he murmured, propping himself up on his elbows whilst remaining buried inside you. "All you had to do was ask."
