nerdjoâs high maintenance gf is his prettiest distraction !
I. DISTRACTION #1: NO KISSING IN THE LECTURE HALLS !
time: 8:46 am location: Curtis Lecture Hall I (CLH-I)
gojo satoru is typing one handed because his other hand is pressed between your thighs.
not that he minds. 8AM thursday means excel sheets & a cup of hot coffee to keep his bleary eyes open. gojo satoru is tryingâtrying to focus, but his pretty girl is talking a mile a minute and heâll be damned if he didnât reply to your every word.
âit was so hard getting out of bed today, toru,â you pout up at him, chin on his shoulder & gloss sticky on his sleeve. âi told kento to stop by and wake me up on his way to class. can you believe he didnât?â
âiâm very proud of you for getting out of bed regardless.â
âthank you. it was very hard.â
you sigh against his shoulder. âheâs probably still mad i cussed him out,â you huff, reaching up to twirl the hairs on his nape. âall because i put him on cherry crush and he tried to act like he discovered it first.â
satoruâs eyes are still on his screen, so you squeeze his palm between your thighs to bring him back to you. âheâs so petty, toru.â
âvery petty, baby.â
you frown. itâs been exactly thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds since satoru looked at you last. heâs been on this stupid spreadsheet since class started, and itâs really starting to piss you off.
so you block his view.
âlook at my fingers, toru,â you breathe, lifting your hand in front of his face. âi was in such a rush i forgot my rings. my hand looks so ugly.â
he lifts his headâjust slightly, just enough that he can focus on the screen & not your hand in front of himâ& replies without a beat. âlooks pretty, baby,â he murmurs, kissing the back of your hand. âso gorgeous.â
oh, thatâs enough.
âtoru.â
âhm, baby?â
âkiss me.â
gojo satoru chokes on his tongue. he freezes, blue eyes leaving the screen only to dart around the crowded lecture hall in alarm. he lets his eyes drop to you, and perhaps he shouldnât have, because youâre looking up at him with glossy lips & too-big eyes & lashes that flutter in that way that means trouble. gojo gulps.
âwe canât do that right now, sweetheart,â his voice catches. youâre pouting up at him but satoru only cups your cheek and tries to reason with you. âweâre in public. can you wait for me, angel?â
your brows furrow, lips wobbling into that pout that only spells out gojoâs demise.
âare you ashamed to kiss me in public?â you croak, fake sniffling. âam i that ugly?â
youâre not ugly. youâre the most beautiful girl in the world, you know it, satoru knows it, & he also knows youâre doing this on purpose. but your eyes are so glossy. your breathingâs all hitched. your shoulders shake like youâre about to sobâ
gojo satoru folds under zero pressure.
he cups your face, thumb brushing faux tears off your lashes as he presses his lips to yours. you taste like strawberry candy & something too sweet to have a name. gojo sighs into your mouth. cocks his head. pulls back just to lean in again when your lashes flutter up at him all pretty. he lets his thumb tug your lip and tongue lick your teeth andâ
âahem.â
you both freeze.
in the row in front of you the nanami kento is there, frown on his face & completely unamused. there are pens littered on his desk & his laptop is wide openâis he reading semantic error?
he eyes you both, lips curled in disgust.
âthis is not a love nest.â
you & satoru are blinking in disbelief when nanami turns back to his laptop. he slams it shut in embarrassment when heâs met with an inappropriate panel onscreen.
II. DISTRACTION #2: NETWORKING â NOT WORKING â
time: 7:14 pm. location: Bergeron Center for Engineering Excellence
â-â
gojo satoru has five minutes until the most important meeting of his life.
an opportunity to pitch one of his latest projects to some high-class engineering recruitersâlucky him! heâs in a private office with his speech in his hands, and his beautiful girlfriend kicking her feet on the office table.
youâre supposed to be his supportive plus-one. and gojo does feel supportedâhow could he not when the love of his life is here for him, dressed up like a midsummer dream? but gojo thinks heâd feel even more supported if you werenât bracketing his thighs & tugging on his tie every time he tries to speak.
âthank you all for coming. iâm honored to have this opportunityââ
âsatoruu,â you coo. âi miss you.â
gojo satoru knows better than to sigh. he does it anyway, collapsing into your neck in resignation as he squeezes your hips. youâre pressing a glossy kiss to his jaw. âiâm right here, sweetheart,â he mumbles, closing his eyes. âwill you let me focus?â
you nod sweetly, patting his cheek dismissively when he presses a kiss to your neck in thanks.
âthank you all for coming. iâm honored to have this opportunity to presentââ
âsatoruu,â
thirteen words this time. fairs.
âyes, sweetheart.â
âmy feet hurt,â you state, kicking your feet up to show him. for once, youâre not being totally dramatic. even with your heels on satoru can see the sides of your feet reddening, flushed & slightly swollen against the material. his brows furrow. âhowâd this happen, angelâŚ?â
he kneels down to slip your heels off. you pout: âi got new heels so iâd look pretty for your presentation. now my feet hurt and iâve ruined everything.â
satoru frowns, but youâre still spiraling. dramatic as always, talking like itâs the end of the world with your eyes glossy & nose wrinkled in lament. but gojoâs heart only goes sticky in his chest. how could you possibly ruin everything when you are everything?
he reaches up to wipe a tear off your cheek. âlook at me, baby,â he murmurs, other hand rubbing circles on your ankles. he looks devastating like thisâhair messy, tie loose from all your tugging & knees on the floor for you even though heâs in his finest dress pants. âyou didnât ruin anything, okay baby? look.â
he slips off your heels, then his own leather shoes, & laces them onto your bare feet. âwear these.â
you blink as he lifts you off the table, kneeling back down to adjust the shoes better. you wiggle your toes. your feet donât even reach the middle, and you almost fall trying to walk two steps, but the gesture alone has you beaming. you turn to him with your lips bent in a clumsy smile.
âtheyâre huge, toru,â you tease, twirling around for him to watch. satoru only smiles. his heart goes sticky in his throat. he pulls you into a soft kiss because trying to speak might make his chest hurt.
knock knock.
one of satoruâs classmatesânerd #1âpeeks his head in, expression slightly terrified. âuh, gojo? theyâre ready for you in the boardroom,â he gulps. âyouâre up.â
satoru nods, gathers his speech papers. youâre practicing walking around in his shoes now, arms stretched out to help you balance as you strut around with a grin on your face. gojo satoru looks down at his feet. theyâre in nothing but a pair of socks.
right.
he sucks in a breath, then turns to kiss your forehead. âstay here where itâs warm, okay?â
youâre still admiring yourself in his shoes, but you chirp out an okay! regardless. satoru bites his lip. itâs showtime.
ââ
the faculty is looking at satoru like heâs grown two heads.
have they never seen a shoeless man before? how rude. heâs standing on the boardroomâs stage now, clipboard in hand, projector lighting up the board behind him. some of the recruiters are nodding. the others are trying not to look at his feet so they canât be accused of classism. gojo satoru is not even poor. a glance at his suit should tell you that.
but gojo doesnât care. he presents without issueâeven though the entire time, his mind is on you.
the boardroom door has a center made of glass. through the pane, satoru can see you back in the officeâyouâve somehow found music controls for the officeâs boombox, and youâre dancingâoh god, youâre dancingâtwirling around with a clumsy smile & laughing when you stumble in his much larger shoes.
satoruâs heart swells. his lip twitches.
gojo turns his focus back to his presentation. heâll work hard to keep you smiling for the rest of your life.
III. DISTRACTION #3 : WHY IS MY GIRLFRIEND IMMUNE TO TUTORINGâŚ
time: 6:14 PM location: The Quad, Satoruâs Apartment.
â-â
âwho discovered the americas ?â
âMartin Luther King.â
You are going to fail this exam.
âthatâs enough general history today,â gojo mutters, voice croaking in alarm when you give your answer. youâre tucked in his lap, fingers curled in his collar, nose in his neck & completely unbothered. your perfume is sticky in his lungs. âletâs try math. you like math, baby?â
âmhm,â you kiss his jaw. âlove it.â
no you donât. gojo flips open a book with one hand, the other rubbing circles on your thigh. âletâs practice some integrationâŚâ he scans the page for questions while you twirl the hairs on his nape. âokay, this one. can you try this for me, princess?â
your lips tug into a bored frown. âokay,â you lean up to glance at the page, âdone.â
he blinks, âdone?â
âyes,â you flop back against him, soft & pretty & tired & his. âi solved it in my head.â
satoru bites his lip, brows knit in concern. âbaby, you canât solve integrals in your head.â
âi have a very strong brain.â
satoru prays for some strength of his own. okayâokay. he purses his lip. âso strong, baby. do you want to walk me through your process?â
you frown in his neck.
âfirst of all,â you tug his collar, lashes fluttering, âi looked at the numbers.â
âgood job.â
âthen,â you tug his earlobe, âi got bored.â
âoh.â
satoru sighsâof course you did. he purses his lip, blue eyes flitting across the page as his spoiled pretty angel hugs his neck; dreary and tired and âboredâ in his lap. finals are coming up and things are not looking good for you. he prays for strength (again).
you seem to have found some strength of your own. gojoâs not sure when you pick up your phone (which he had confiscated from you earlier), but while he stares into the distance and laments your guaranteed failure, you scroll through your phone with a grin on your lips.
âtoru, look at this bag,â you coo, pushing the bright screen to his face. âitâs so pink and pretty, just like me.â
âjust like you,â he repeats, still staring into the distance.
âwow, nine-hundred-and-fifty dollars,â you kick your feet in his lap. âbaby, can i buy it?â you coo, voice sweet.
satoru blinks out of his daze. he glances at the phone screenâthen at you, suddenly sweet & bright & brimming with energy. his thumb brushes your inner thigh. âbaby, youâre supposed to be studying.â
âi am studying,â you frown, and gojo wants to kiss it off again. âiâm studying consumer behavior. can i have your card?â
there are three reasons gojo satoru should not give you his card.
you are going to fail your exams.
you havenât double-checked if the price is in CAD or USD.
you are going to fail your exams.
gojo lets you have his card.
you squeal, hopping off his lap to retrieve his wallet in the other room. satoru leans back against his desk chair. in front of him, his desk is a mess of opened books & littered pencils, a âget good grades!â subliminal playing on your mini speaker because you insisted the whispered affirmations would guarantee your success. gojo sighs.
âthank you, toru!â you sing as you pad back into the room, a skip in your step. you lean down to kiss his cheek & flop onto his bed to open his laptop. you have his wallet in your hands, and gojo satoru already knows you will not double check the currency.
gojo closes your textbook with a sigh. better luck next time.
ac: (see alt text!) @ to00fu
DISTRACTIONS, end.
HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.
especially when heâs got you pinned beneath him, buried so deep inside your tight, dripping cunt that you can barely think straight.
every brutal thrust has him dragging against every sensitive ridge inside you, slamming right into that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back and your toes curl so hard they cramp.
his hips is snapping with that cocky, practiced rhythm, stretching you open around his thick cock like he owns every inch of your body.
the wet, filthy sound of him pounding into your soaked pussy fills the room, your juices coating his length and dripping down your ass with every deep stroke.
and he just canât help himself.
the moment you start clenching and fluttering around him, moaning like a whore, that feral side of him takes over.
he leans down with a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with pure mischief and hunger, and sinks his teeth into your skin very hard.
he bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, teeth digging in so sharply you yelp in pain, your whole body jerking violently beneath him.
âfuck- satoru!â you cry out, but he just moans like itâs the sweetest sound heâs ever heard.
he thinks youâre screaming because it feels that good.
âshit, baby⌠youâre so loud for me..â he groans against your bitten flesh, voice husky and dripping with arrogance.
his tongue laps over the fresh, throbbing mark before he bites down again, harder this time, right above your collarbone.
the sharp sting blooms into burning heat as he sucks hard, leaving a deep purple bruise while his cock keeps bullying that perfect spot inside you without mercy.
you scream again, a raw, broken sound thatâs equal parts pain and overwhelming pleasure and it only makes him worse.
satoru chuckles darkly, the vibration traveling through your skin as he grinds his hips in slow, filthy circles, stirring his cock deep in your guts.
âyeah? right there, huh? keep screaming like that, sweetheart. youâre clenching so fucking tight every time i bite you⌠makes me think you love when i get rough.â
he shifts his angle, folding you nearly in half as he drives even deeper, another harsh bite lands on the swell of your breast, teeth grazing your nipple before clamping down.
the pain shoots straight to your core, making your pussy gush around him.
satoruâs lost in it, he pistons into you faster, harder, the headboard slamming against the wall as he chases his own high.
he bites your neck one more time, right as his fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing tight, mean circles.
the mix of pain and pleasure shoves you violently over the edge.
you shatter around him, screaming loud enough to make your throat raw as your walls spasm and flutter wildly.
satoru groans in satisfaction, hips stuttering as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release while still nibbling and sucking on your abused skin like he canât get enough.
⥴ utterly whipped gojo with a girl whoâs just using him for dick slowly warming up to him ⥴ 0.5k words
âyouâre really gonna make me leave baby?â heâs frowning. frowning like a child while he stands by your apartment door as youâre actively trying to shove him out. âi brought flowers.â he looks over to them on your table, sitting in a vase he brought with a sappy note attached to it. he looks back at you with puppy eyes to try and convince you further.
âyes, i am.â you just keep on pushing him trying to hurry him out your door but making next to no progress. you know youâll win eventually though. you guess in about 5 minutes youâll compromise and say he can actually kiss you next time if he leaves. âiâm not looking for a relationship right now, gojo. i donât need you all fawny over me. now leave.â
his lips quiver like theyâre about to cry. his hands even grip harder on the change of clothes he brought incase youâd let him sleepover this time and the fabric scrunches beneath his touch.
âso youâre just using me for my body?â he knows damn well you are. for gods sakes you met him at a bar and had told him you just wanted rebound dick from your last breakup. his other hand pushes on the door frame, steadying him and rendering him completely still. you stop pushing at this point. heâll leave eventually.
âyouâre a great person ,â you feel like youâve said this before, and by his hurt face it looks like he has too, unfortunately now seeing it from the other side. âbut i canât deal with all this mopey shit. i have work, billsââ
âi can pay them!â he suggests, perking up like thatâs the only word he heard. âor you could move in with me!â heâs back to that prince charming smile you can just tell he abused back in college.
âthatâs not it, gojoââ
âi love you,â he grabs your wrists, dropping his clothes he was holding, that were by your side and brings them up to his face, forcing you to cup his jaw. you stare up at him. âi can wait, sweetheart! i canâi really can!â heâs like a child trying to convince their mother they wonât act too crazy on sugar.
he stays going off on a tangent now, gripping your wrists even tighter unconsciously.
âi-i can buy you anything. my friends would love youâespecially utahime, you hate me like her i guess. i already give you good dick, i mean you were just moaning not to long agoââ you start to drown him out.
ââjust one date. if you really do hate me you can slap me after it, just let me try. please? donât be so cold hearted, baby.â
âgojo,â he looks disappointed already, like heâs anticipating a terrible answer. âcome here.â you gesture with your hands for him to lean closer. you plop a delicate, just barely there, chaste kiss on his cheek. âgo home.â you deadpan.
and best believe heâs showing up at your door the next evening awaiting another one.
⥴ utterly whipped gojo forcing you to praise him during sex [kinda a pt 2 to this ? ] ⥴ didnât even touch word count
heâs balls deep in you, and yet of course heâs still spouting stupid bullshit.
âiâm doing good, right baby?â he moans (moreso whimpers), still thrusting in that half-romantic half-what itâs actually supposed to beâa hookupârhythm. his normally porcelain cheeks are completely flushed, his cool white hair falls in his face, some strands sticking to his forehead glistening in sweat.
âiâwhat?â you manage to say, still out of breath from how heâs fucking into you with his unfairly big cock. every perfect ridge and vein of it is dragging against your walls as he thrusts in and out of your sopping cuntâthough youâll deny how wet you are because of how large gojoâs ego will be if he knows he actually arouses you.
âsay it.â he pouts above you, gripping harder on your shoulders heâs deemed a perfect leverage point in you to help with his strokes. âsay iâm doing good⌠please?â his blue eyes pleading to you like a puppy dog.
âgojo, iâm not fucking doing thââ he shoves all the way back in and stops his thrusts. you moan without even meaning to from the sheer amount of girth being stuffed in you. he juts his lower lip out further, clearly upset by your answer.
âcâmon,â he looks physically pained as he restrains himself from continuing his thrusts. âjust say it and iâll keep fucking you.â he whines out, sounding a lot more weak and less intimidating than he thought he would.
you breathe out. you know heâll hold on to this for the rest of the foreseeable future but youâre close anyway. youâll come then kick him out like always and if next time he keeps mentioning it, youâll just stuff his face with your pussy.
âyouâre doing so good, gojo.â you moan out in a shaky voice.
he moans, loudly, near pornographic, and he gets back to thrusting immediately, except he seems more motivated. his strokes are fasting and more like heâs trying to impress you. his sounds are more desperate and huffy than before.
he reaches around your waist to hug you closer and shove his face deep in your neck, right below your ear.
âhaaah, fuck, babyâsay iâm the best youâve ever had, please.â
âmm, god, gojo youâre the best iâll ever fucking have.â he cries out. cries out and actually cries. tears start streaming down his pale face and cupping along your neck and collar bone where heâs found solace. heâs breathing like heâs just run a marathon.
unwantedly but admittedly, you say this next one yourself. itâs almost like youâre starting to⌠like him. ew.
âsuch a gâboy for me, satoru.â he nuts. immediately thick cum oozes into your pussy, spilling out from how overstuffed it already is with his girthy, oversized, genetic lottery winning cock. his whole body shakes and shivers while he releases, still trying to thrust so you could finish like the good boy he is.
unfortunately he forgets heâs not god and ends up overstimulating the hell out of himself by the time he gets you to cream by his thumb pressing along your clit.
he brings his head up, covered in sweat as heâs still shaking from the feeling of nutting the hardest he ever has.
he looks nearly completely out of it before his lips curl into a smirk. âyou finally called me satoru!â and then heâs attacking your lips and shoving his tongue so far down youâre throat like heâs wasnât just near seizing from cumming.
đŠâ¤ď¸đŞ MDNI. 18+ nerd!gojo doesnât listen to lofi anymore, no, he listens to far better background noise now. // my contribution this month <33
satoru was in deep in his coding session, an app he needs to finish in like a few hours now or else his grade will most likely go down. itâs supposed to be a group project and if thatâs how this goes, this project would have been over since last monday but he ended up being a single father of 4 who works like a dog day and night.Â
he canât even see you. well, he refused because he knows the moment you silently exist in just one room with him, he would have forgotten his backlogs and poured every ounce of stress on you like a maniac.
satoru got multiple tabs opened, a bunch of stackoverflow and w3schools, one of his music playlists that he completely abandoned, and one streaming lofi that is obviously not helping him focus. he runs his hand on his hair, messing it up as his glasses slip down.Â
he stared at his phone for a moment, thinking about messaging you and just agreeing to that message of yours saying you can come over and you promised that you will behave and let him work.Â
satoru shakes his limbs around, pushing the thoughts away as he went back to his laptop. he stared at the block of codes for a whole minute, he knows what to do nextâhe just doesnât have any motivation to do so. his right hand land on his mouse and as he looked for the cursor, it landed on his folder. for a moment, he thought about it.Â
maybe he should pull out the folder..?Â
satoru fixed his posture, navigating through his folders. his mouse clicks are the only noise as he moves around closing the lofi tab. he read through the titles which is just named as dates and place like 050626_HerDorm.mp4, he double clicked on it, opening the file.Â
the audio greets him with a mattress creaking, satoru gently cracked his neck as he minimizes the audioâs windows. his fingers settle on his keyboard, finally typing in something to the blinking i-beam in the empty line of code.Â
âfuckfuckââtoruâ!â you moaned through his earbuds. the sound of wet schlick echoes and his breathing from the audio. âyouâre taking it so wellâfuck, did you just clench?âÂ
satoruâs typing falters as he almost cringes from his voice, he wants to tell himself to shut up and that he needs to hear his girlfriend rather than him.Â
âahh, feels so good, âtoruâyour cock feels so good, so big, hah!â satoru is unfazed while he listens to your moanings and dirty talk rather than it being distractive, it seems to fuel his motivation as he reached the flow state of coding. he probably have started a feature just from the 2 minutes and 10 seconds of your moans and wet cunt being fucked by his cock.Â
itâs a secret of satoru that whenever he really needs to focus, he listens to the audio that he recorded while having your legs spread under him. at first when you found out about his recordings, satoru profusely apologized on his knees while he hugs your calves. you laughed at him in an endearing way saying youâre not mad, youâre just confused on why is it audios rather than videos. satoru lied talking about some privacy and whatever cybersecurity bullshit he can utter.
reality is just this, he likes listening more. he likes doing the mental imagery on his own. audios are less of a distraction for him as he has no visuals to peek on when he gets tempted and despite the audios mostly giving him a really hard boner like right now, cock occasionally twitching when he hears you whine about feeling so fullâhe seems to be unfazed, think about it as an asmr.
satoru is in deep on his work, fingers moving faster, code of line after code of line. he doesnât even need the stackoverflow tab, everything is coming from his brain like itâs common sense and muscle memory.Â
satoru is reaching the end of the audio, he can tell it by your voice and how you just keep on letting out a series of ahh, mmh, ngh only as if you forgot to talk.Â
âgonna come inside you, you want that, right? fuck, youâre squeezingâme so tightâhah!â satoru can hear the rustle of the bedsheets and your cries getting louder, âinside, pleaseâwant it all, ahh, pleasepleasepleaseâah! âtoruuâÂ
the keyboard clacks and clacks and the sound of the moving mouse is the only noise now, satoru didnt even notice that the audio has ended finally. he leaned back a little to decompress his back and navigate back to the foldersâ050126_HerDorm, 042826_Shower, 042726_ComputerScienceBuilding, 042726_HisDorm, 042326_DormâŚ
satoru double clicked on another one and minimizes it again, ignoring his throbbing cock as he knows one text away after he finishes his backlogs and he can definitely pour it inside your eager, tight cunt.
satoru is obsessed with the idea and making you do things you wouldnât do.Â
he likes the fact that youâre sweet and quiet and only save your giggles for him, but he also likes when youâre gagging on his dick with tears filled to the brim dripping out of your eyes with your hand in between your thighs.Â
his eyes glued to yours with mischief, his stomach swirling with butterflies because of how easy it is to get you to do things with him and him alone.
you and satoru are one and the same, both perverted freaks; the only difference is that you never explored it.Â
way too sweet and fragile before, not even realizing when satoru asked you to come study at his place it meant him being balls deep inside of your mouth giving you instructions.Â
you didn't even touch yourself alone; thatâs when satoru knew he had a gem, his own personal doll to corrupt and bark orders to, knowing you would do them.Â
the first thing he did was have you sit in his lap while he showed you porn of women that looked exactly like you, talking you through the video while his hand slowly slid in between your thighs, rubbing you through the thin fabric you had on for panties.Â
âalready that wet just from videos? "fuck, youâre cute.âÂ
this was his own wet dream come to life, having you unexperienced, wet, and horny in his lap waiting for what came next.
the first thing he ever made you do was try to touch yourself while he watched, knowing you had no prior knowledge on how to do it, his eyes glued to your hand and how it trembled while your index and middle fingers made contact with your slick that coated your slit.Â
âthere you go, youâre a pro already.âÂ
a sly smirk on his face while he watched, saliva coating in his mouth and his palms getting sweaty watching.Â
as much as he wanted to swoop in and put his hand over yours guiding, watching felt better, naughtier, like a guilty pleasure. he wanted to see you ache and get frustrated with yourself because you couldnât properly get yourself off.Â
the more this went on, the more stuff he started bringing to you.
âitâll feel good, i promise. if it doesn't, you can slap me.âÂ
before sliding in between your thighs and licking down your slit, gathering all your sweetness that coated his tongue and fingers that slipped into you.
gasping as time went on, his tongue flicking repeatedly on your clit and his fingers curved inside.Â
every time he put his hands on you, a wave of shame hit you, but still, you stayed, doing every naughty thing he wanted.
note. dk how to feel abt this lolâŚ. art by naomiiocha
after having your baby, your body changed drastically. especially in your breasts. they were all swell and full of milk now. causing stained clothes and discomfort.
satoru became more attentive then heâs ever been. always making sure that you and the baby are okay. but one day, when you and satoru were together, milk started to leak through the front of your dressâŚ
and that awakened something deep inside of him.
he didnât know what came over him. whenever heâd catch you breastfeeding your son, this weird feeling of jealousy would twist in his stomach. it didnât help how the little guy looked just like him either!
one day, when you were out and asked him to feed the baby, he opened the fridge and stared at it like he struck gold. all of the baby bottles filled with the milk that you pumped out, practically winking at him to have a taste⌠just one little sip.
so he did. after feeding and burping him, he reached for another bottle absentmindedly. the moment he took a sip of the liquid, his eyes widened.
the flavor was immaculate, he never tasted anything like this before. it was so creamy and sweetâbut not sickly sweet. it was pretty mild. honestly, it mightâve been one of the best things heâd ever had.
it might even be better than the kikufuku mochi he was always obsessed with.
before he knew it, the bottle was empty. he dragged his tongue over his lips, catching the last bit with no shame whatsoever. not only did it taste good, but it came from from your body? his wifeâs bodily fluids?! it aroused him so muchâŚ
after that, bottles started disappearing. you noticed it pretty quickly. each time you checked the fridge, there was less and less. the baby was pissed too! making everything more weird. eventually, you asked satoru if he had any idea whatâs been happening to them, and all he did was shrug. âi donât know, baby. maybe weâre overfeeding him?â
one night, after the baby had finally fallen asleep, you stayed up. complaining about how your breasts were too full and achy. they needed to be drained.
to satoru, this was the perfect opportunity. he offered to help you drain some of it out. and of course, as his wife, you were more than welcome to have your husband take care of you.
but what you didnât know was that you were making his peculiar fantasies finally come to lifeâŚ
âmmâtoru..! donât suck too hard. that hurts..â you muttered. currently, your beloved husband was too busy. his soft lips cupped around one of your nipples while his hands fondled both your breasts.
âsorry, baby. canât help it,â he said, voice muffled. âtastes sooo good. like honey nut cheerios⌠and almond,â he was in absolute bliss and his dick wasnât even inside you. tasting it from the bottle was one thing, but sucking it straight out of your fat tits? now that was a whole new experience.
his white lashes fluttered, tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. the stimulation made more milk to spew out into his mouth. he moaned lowly when the liquid hit his tongue.
you mewled softly as he continued to massage your sore breasts, milk seeping between his fingers. your hand rested on your his head, scratching his scalp gently. he kept squeezing you, forcing more and more milk to spray out. he lapped it all up like a little kitten, some of it even dripping down his chin.
âfuck, toru. youâre so disgustingggâŚâ you moaned, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.Â
he laughed breathlessly. âonly for you,â he cooed. he began to tease your nipples by pinching them and giving them light flicks with his tongue. he rubbed the leaked milk around your areola with his fingers before licking it off with a long stripe. the relief was euphoric. you bit your lip, and your pussy that was already soaked gushed more slick.
he put both nipples in his drooling mouth and squeezed your breasts roughly together, encouraging more of the rich sweetness out of you for him to greedily drink down. âmmph.. so fucking sweet⌠my sweet girl,â he groaned.
âo-ohhh..! s-satoruuu,â you whined underneath him. shuddering as you felt his dick rub up and down your clothed folds. basically dry humping you.Â
âshhh⌠mâ right here. just let daddy take care of you, kay? mâ almost done,â he murmured against your skin. a whimper fell out of your trembling lips. he continued his ministrations until he worked all the firmness from your tits, leaving them soft and doughy as they should be.Â
when he was done, he let go of your nipples with a small pop! âfeels better, hm?â he asked, bringing his wet fingers to his mouth, sucking the sticky liquid off.
âmhmm, yes⌠t-thank you,â you said shyly, still trembling. slick puddling in your panties from how good he treated you. he let out a low chuckle and leaned in, giving you a soft kiss. you could taste the nectarous liquid on his tongue when he slipped it past your lips.
âwe should start doing this more often⌠oh, honey,â he started, looking at the ginormous damp spot between your thighs. thereâs no way that heâs going to sleep without fucking you now. âguess i have something else to help you with.â
@chosayi 2026 ( ummm⌠would you say that you are⌠kinky?? )
imagine a mass of pale, muscular nebula. a drift of ivory that follows in your wake like a lost seraph. vengeful spirit!satoru is draped over you as a heavy mantle of cursed energyâpale, elongated arms looping around your shoulders to rest his chin atop your head. to be in his presence is to feel the very atoms of the air begin to thrum with low, pressurised frequency. grotesque yet ethereal, adorned with six massive, crystalline eyes that orbit his form like dying stars; they blink in a staggered sequence, casting a cyan halo that illuminates your path. he remains forever a playful (and deadly) creature, ruffling your hair just to bait a complaint, only to follow it with a phantom kiss to your nape as an apologyâjust as he once did.
though he craves closeness, satoru avoids the most intimate features of your body, tactfully refusing to cross the line into the carnal on his own. his palms, roughly the size of your head, often splay in a hovering, protective stance around you, or use a single finger to ghost a stroke across your cheek. his form has warped into a beautiful monstrosity, yet his love remains pure (if not a bit obsessive); a rational, human fragment of him knows he should let you go, but the anchor of your love & grief keeps him tied to you. on those lonely nights when the ache becomes unbearable, you are the one to guide him, pulling his hands to finally, truly touch you. he humours you then, cupping you through the fabric of your clothes and offering gently kneading, maddeningly teasing strokes that leave you panting in the dark. and when the desperation peaks and you find yourself begging for him to be insideâhe simply condenses into his humanoid form, happily slipping under the sheets next to you.
after all, in his own words: love is the most twisted curse of all.
satoru gojo eats you out until he falls asleep / 0.3k
cw: 18+ mdni gojo is pussy-drunk, oral (f!reader receiving), no use of y/n, fluff
m.list
heâs nestled between your legs, his head slightly resting on your thigh, tongue swirling over your swollen clit. heâs been at this for god knows how long alreadyâlicking and suckling on your clit like it was his lifeline.
you were exhausted from the many orgasms he managed to pull from you.
âjust one more, baby,â he pleaded, voice low and a little wrecked, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs. âcan you do that for me?"
you nodded, and his lips closed around your clit. you moaned breathlessly, back arching slightly off his bed. you dared a glance down at him and your cunt clenched around nothing.
the sight of him alone almost sent you barreling over the edge. his cheeks were glistening with your slick, white hair completely tousled and messy from how hard youâd been pulling on it, those brilliant blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded, lashes fluttering like he was fighting sleep just to keep tasting you.
âsatoru,â you whine, reaching down to grab his hand. he takes hold of it immediately, giving you a gentle squeeze, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
his eyes slip shut as he loses himself in the taste of you. lips still working against your clit, slow and indulgent.
slower. slower. slower.
heâs barely tracing the tip of his tongue through your folds now, movements lazy and dreamy, those long white lashes resting against his flushed cheeks. his breathing has gone deep and even, warm puffs of air against your over-sensitive skin.
you were having an even harder time keeping your own eyes open, but you couldnât fight it off any longer. you fell asleep with satoru sound asleep against the plush of your thighs, his tongue still pressed soft and warm to your clit, his hand still entwined with yours.
⥴ utterly whipped gojo with a girl whoâs just using him for dick slowly warming up to him ⥴ 0.5k words
âyouâre really gonna make me leave baby?â heâs frowning. frowning like a child while he stands by your apartment door as youâre actively trying to shove him out. âi brought flowers.â he looks over to them on your table, sitting in a vase he brought with a sappy note attached to it. he looks back at you with puppy eyes to try and convince you further.
âyes, i am.â you just keep on pushing him trying to hurry him out your door but making next to no progress. you know youâll win eventually though. you guess in about 5 minutes youâll compromise and say he can actually kiss you next time if he leaves. âiâm not looking for a relationship right now, gojo. i donât need you all fawny over me. now leave.â
his lips quiver like theyâre about to cry. his hands even grip harder on the change of clothes he brought incase youâd let him sleepover this time and the fabric scrunches beneath his touch.
âso youâre just using me for my body?â he knows damn well you are. for gods sakes you met him at a bar and had told him you just wanted rebound dick from your last breakup. his other hand pushes on the door frame, steadying him and rendering him completely still. you stop pushing at this point. heâll leave eventually.
âyouâre a great person ,â you feel like youâve said this before, and by his hurt face it looks like he has too, unfortunately now seeing it from the other side. âbut i canât deal with all this mopey shit. i have work, billsââ
âi can pay them!â he suggests, perking up like thatâs the only word he heard. âor you could move in with me!â heâs back to that prince charming smile you can just tell he abused back in college.
âthatâs not it, gojoââ
âi love you,â he grabs your wrists, dropping his clothes he was holding, that were by your side and brings them up to his face, forcing you to cup his jaw. you stare up at him. âi can wait, sweetheart! i canâi really can!â heâs like a child trying to convince their mother they wonât act too crazy on sugar.
he stays going off on a tangent now, gripping your wrists even tighter unconsciously.
âi-i can buy you anything. my friends would love youâespecially utahime, you hate me like her i guess. i already give you good dick, i mean you were just moaning not to long agoââ you start to drown him out.
ââjust one date. if you really do hate me you can slap me after it, just let me try. please? donât be so cold hearted, baby.â
âgojo,â he looks disappointed already, like heâs anticipating a terrible answer. âcome here.â you gesture with your hands for him to lean closer. you plop a delicate, just barely there, chaste kiss on his cheek. âgo home.â you deadpan.
and best believe heâs showing up at your door the next evening awaiting another one.
âuh⌠why is sensei doing push-ups?â yuji asks, when he, nobara, and megumi enter the classroom.
satoruâs pushing himself up and down with one hand because, according to you, normal push-ups werenât enough. but even then, heâs barely breaking a sweat. and heâs grinning, while you stand over him, watching with your arms crossed.
his uniform jacket is folded over the back of a chair, leaving him in his compression shirt, arm bulging and back tensing with each lift and fall of his body.
âi upset my-- hah beautiful, smart-- hah strong, gorgeous, perfect wife,â he pants, âpunishment fits the crime.â
he really is right where he wants to be.
megumi doesnât even bat an eye - this was the least unusual thing that you and satoru do. he slides into a chair with a sigh.
âhow many does he have to do?â
âa hundred,â you say. satoru lifts his head to look up at you, mouth parted, little pink hearts in his eyes peering at you over the rim of his glasses. âheâs on seventy-two.â
his grin widens. âyou know, this isnât a challenge for me. why donât you sit on my back, sweetheart?â
you crouch down in front of him and his eyes light up. âi know what you want, and you donât deserve my touch.â you push his head down so heâs facing the floor again, and he grunts when you press extra weight, forcing his body down. âonly twenty-three left. you can do it, my love.â
if his heart wasnât beating fast enough before, it definitely was now. especially with the saccharine tone you used at the end of your sentence.
god, was he down bad.
â⌠call us when youâre done,â megumi says, already out of the classroom.
silly thought inspired by this video HAHA can you tell he makes me a little a lot insane
it started innocently enoughâor as innocent as anything ever is with him. one lazy sunday morning when you were still half-asleep and riding him slow, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand with that mischievous grin and whispered, âjust one video, baby. for my eyes only. i wanna watch how pretty you look when you come on my cock.â
you said yes.
now itâs become a ritual.
every time he fucks you, the phone comes out. sometimes he sets it up on the tripod in the corner of the bedroom so it captures everything in wide angle. sometimes he holds it himself, filming close-ups of his thick cock stretching your pussy open, the way your tits bounce with every thrust, the messy slick coating his shaft when he pulls out just to push back in deeper.
he loves the sounds most of all.
âlisten to that,â heâll groan, angling the camera down between your bodies so the microphone catches the wet, filthy squelch every time he bottoms out. âhear how sloppy your pussy gets for me? fuck, baby, youâre dripping down my balls.â
he always makes sure to get your face tooâthe way your eyes roll back, the way your mouth falls open when he hits that spot inside you, the broken moans and whimpers of his name that spill out when youâre close.
âsay it louder,â heâll demand, voice rough as he fucks you harder, free hand gripping your thigh to spread you wider for the camera. âtell the camera whoâs making you feel this good. who owns this tight little cunt.â
you always give in. âyou do, satoruâfuckâonly youââ
he saves every single video.
theyâre stored in a heavily encrypted folder on his phone titled âprivate collectionđ¤â with a little heart emoji he thinks is subtle. there are dozens now. some are short clips of you sucking him off in the back of the car after a mission. some are long, hour-long tapes where he edges you for ages before finally letting you come. thereâs even one from the time he fucked you against the floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse while the city lights glittered behind you.
he watches them when youâre away.
when youâre on a solo mission, or visiting family, or just busy with work that keeps you late. heâll lock himself in his bedroom, pull up the folder, and pick one at random. sometimes itâs the one where youâre riding him reverse cowgirl, ass bouncing as you take every inch. sometimes itâs the one where he has you folded in half, legs over his shoulders, pounding you so deep the camera catches the bulge in your lower belly.
he strokes himself slow at first, matching the rhythm on the screen, groaning your name under his breath. âfuck, look at you⌠taking me so well even when iâm not there.â
his hand speeds up as the video gets filthier. he loves the parts where you begâwhen youâre crying and whimpering âplease, satoru, fill me up, i need your cum.â he always comes hard to those, thick ropes spilling over his fist while he watches himself breed you on the screen.
after he finishes, he doesnât delete anything. he just saves the new load of cum on his fingers and sends you a quick text:
âmiss you. watched our video from last thursday. you looked so pretty crying on my cock. canât wait to make a new one when you get home.â
you always reply with something flustered and needy, and he grins like an idiot, already planning the next tape.
sometimes he gets bold.
heâll send you short clips while youâre at workâa ten-second snippet of him thrusting into you from behind, his hand fisting your hair, the sound of skin slapping skin loud and clear. the message always comes with the same caption:
âthinking about you. hurry home so we can film the sequel.â
he never pressures you to let him post them or share them. these videos are strictly for himâhis private collection, his dirty little secret. he watches them when heâs stressed after a long day, when heâs horny and youâre not around, when he just wants to relive how perfect you feel wrapped around him.
and every time he films a new one, he makes sure to whisper against your lips right before he starts recording:
âsmile for the camera, baby. gonna watch this one later when iâm all alone and missing this tight pussy.â
then he fucks you like heâs trying to make sure the next video is even better than the last.
because gojo satoru doesnât just love fucking you.
he loves keeping every single moment of it forever.
so he can watch you fall apart for him again and again.
it started innocently enoughâor as innocent as anything ever is with him. one lazy sunday morning when you were still half-asleep and riding him slow, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand with that mischievous grin and whispered, âjust one video, baby. for my eyes only. i wanna watch how pretty you look when you come on my cock.â
you said yes.
now itâs become a ritual.
every time he fucks you, the phone comes out. sometimes he sets it up on the tripod in the corner of the bedroom so it captures everything in wide angle. sometimes he holds it himself, filming close-ups of his thick cock stretching your pussy open, the way your tits bounce with every thrust, the messy slick coating his shaft when he pulls out just to push back in deeper.
he loves the sounds most of all.
âlisten to that,â heâll groan, angling the camera down between your bodies so the microphone catches the wet, filthy squelch every time he bottoms out. âhear how sloppy your pussy gets for me? fuck, baby, youâre dripping down my balls.â
he always makes sure to get your face tooâthe way your eyes roll back, the way your mouth falls open when he hits that spot inside you, the broken moans and whimpers of his name that spill out when youâre close.
âsay it louder,â heâll demand, voice rough as he fucks you harder, free hand gripping your thigh to spread you wider for the camera. âtell the camera whoâs making you feel this good. who owns this tight little cunt.â
you always give in. âyou do, satoruâfuckâonly youââ
he saves every single video.
theyâre stored in a heavily encrypted folder on his phone titled âprivate collectionđ¤â with a little heart emoji he thinks is subtle. there are dozens now. some are short clips of you sucking him off in the back of the car after a mission. some are long, hour-long tapes where he edges you for ages before finally letting you come. thereâs even one from the time he fucked you against the floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse while the city lights glittered behind you.
he watches them when youâre away.
when youâre on a solo mission, or visiting family, or just busy with work that keeps you late. heâll lock himself in his bedroom, pull up the folder, and pick one at random. sometimes itâs the one where youâre riding him reverse cowgirl, ass bouncing as you take every inch. sometimes itâs the one where he has you folded in half, legs over his shoulders, pounding you so deep the camera catches the bulge in your lower belly.
he strokes himself slow at first, matching the rhythm on the screen, groaning your name under his breath. âfuck, look at you⌠taking me so well even when iâm not there.â
his hand speeds up as the video gets filthier. he loves the parts where you begâwhen youâre crying and whimpering âplease, satoru, fill me up, i need your cum.â he always comes hard to those, thick ropes spilling over his fist while he watches himself breed you on the screen.
after he finishes, he doesnât delete anything. he just saves the new load of cum on his fingers and sends you a quick text:
âmiss you. watched our video from last thursday. you looked so pretty crying on my cock. canât wait to make a new one when you get home.â
you always reply with something flustered and needy, and he grins like an idiot, already planning the next tape.
sometimes he gets bold.
heâll send you short clips while youâre at workâa ten-second snippet of him thrusting into you from behind, his hand fisting your hair, the sound of skin slapping skin loud and clear. the message always comes with the same caption:
âthinking about you. hurry home so we can film the sequel.â
he never pressures you to let him post them or share them. these videos are strictly for himâhis private collection, his dirty little secret. he watches them when heâs stressed after a long day, when heâs horny and youâre not around, when he just wants to relive how perfect you feel wrapped around him.
and every time he films a new one, he makes sure to whisper against your lips right before he starts recording:
âsmile for the camera, baby. gonna watch this one later when iâm all alone and missing this tight pussy.â
then he fucks you like heâs trying to make sure the next video is even better than the last.
because gojo satoru doesnât just love fucking you.
he loves keeping every single moment of it forever.
so he can watch you fall apart for him again and again.
â§ ââ satoru just needs one final push (nsfw)
he physically canât cum until he hears your voice
satoru's been at this for at least half an hour by now.
hand gliding up and down his cock, thumb pressing hard against the bulging vein. he imagines itâs your soft, pliant hands instead of his own that are coaxing him towards an orgasm. his mind is hazy, the vision of you blurry as his hips buck lazily into his grasp. the movement of his wrists speed up when he feels himself teetering on the edge, only for him to be pulled back onto solid ground immediately.
he's been at this for at least half an hour and yet, he still can't reach the sweet, sweet relief he was aching for. you're to blame, he thinks. the tight squeeze of your pussy around his cock, enveloping him in a special kind of warmth, has ruined everything else for him. especially the now-slick palms of his own.
even the polaroid he keeps in his wallet isn't enough. not even his favourite â the one where you're on your knees in front of him, mouth stretched around his cock. your eyes are locked onto the camera in his hands, and the faux eye contact makes him stifle a groan. but he still needs more.
he dials your number.
you pick up at the second ring.
"hey, babe, what's up?" your voice is amplified by satoru's phone, pressed up against his ear. he feels his balls tighten.
âpleaseâŚ,â he whimpers through gritted teeth. itâs followed by shallow breaths. then the wet shlicks of his precum being smeared all over his length. it glistens with obscenity, and the shame of getting off to the mere sound of his name uttered in your voice.
âsatoru? are you okay? you soundâŚout of breath.â
though your words were innocent, to him, your voice was no different from porn.
âhaah, yes, i-iâm, fffuck, iâm fineâplease, say my name again,â his voice cracks, and so does his poorly-maintained facade of composure.
âwhatâsatoru, whatâs going on?â your lack of awareness of his dirty actions made him grow heavier in his palms. the strands of his hair were slick with sweat, sticking onto his forehead, head tilted back against the headrest.
âshit, again,â he gasps out, deft fingers tugging at his cock. how you haven't caught on, he's not sure. or maybe you have, and you're just playing dumb. whatever it is, every word makes his breath quicken, his face feel hotter, and his legs tremble more.
âis this a prank?â
âno! please, just keep going. talk to me, anything you want. tell me about your day? pretend as if itâs aâhnghâa life or death situation.â it might as well have been the way he was desperately clawing at any shreds of you.
âumm, okayâŚ? well, i was at the grocery store just now, and there was this lady who was a complete bitch. she cut the queue, and yâknow what she said to me? she said she didnât see me! i mean, hellooo?? she couldâve justââ
âfuck!â a loud groan interrupts your little rant.
spurts of cum spill onto satoruâs hand and lap, all of which, of course, you do not see. his chest heaves with relief, head tipped against the headboard. he lays still for a moment, nothing but shaky breaths leaving his lips. the other end of the line is silent too.
for a moment, he thinks you hung up. left him to ride out the aftershocks of his long-awaited orgasm, fingers still twitching against his cock from the muscle memory.
warning ladies !! do not spit in gojoâs mouth unless youâre ready for him to nut instantly!
âcâmon baby,â he whines, voice all breathy and cocky, his blue eyes sparkling looking greedy. âiâve been good. spit in my mouth, please?â
you laugh, because this six-foot-whatever menace who can literally warp reality is pouting like a brat because he wants your spit.
âyouâre so fucking weird, toru.â
âyou are weird,â he corrects instantly, tongue already poking out a little. ânow câmon.... iâm dying here. my dickâs so hard itâs bout to file a complaint.â
you roll your eyes but lean in anyway, gripping his jaw with one hand, thumb pressing into the soft skin just under his bottom lip. he opens wider, eyes half-lidded, that signature gojo smirk twitching at the corners because he knows exactly how nasty this is.
you gather it slow on purpose, letting him watch, then spit directly onto his waiting tongue. thick, warm, right in the center.
the sound he makes is downright criminal. a broken little moan-groan that vibrates straight through his chest and into yours.
âfuckâ again,â he gasps, âdo it again. spit like you mean it.â
you do it again, messier this time, letting some of it miss and drip down his chin. he doesnât even wipe it. just lets it slide while his eyes roll back.
âyouâre actually getting off on this, huh?â you tease, grinding down slow on the massive bulge straining against the fabric. âbig bad strongest and all it takes is a little spit to make you stupid?â
âshut up and degrade me properly,â he whines, but heâs grinning like an idiot, tongue still out. âcall me a nasty little slut or sum. iâm literally leaking for you right now.â
you laugh again, i mean you canât help it. before you do the request, you reach down and shove his sweats just low enough to free him. heâs flushed dark at the tip, already dripping down the shaft.
âopen wider, pretty boy.â
he obeys instantly, loving every second of being absolutely humiliated by you.
you spit again, then lean down and lick into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue while you sink down onto his cock.
satoruâs whole body shudders. he moans into your mouth, hands scrambling on your hips, already babbling.
âmore!! fuckâ spit on me while you ride me. please baby iâll do anything. iâll buy you a country. iâll cancel infinity for the rest of the night. just keep spitting in my fucking mouthââ
áĄŕ§ OFF LIMITS: Brotherâs Best friend!Satoru Gojo
áĄŕ§ synopsis: in which your brotherâs best friend, satoru gojo has spent years keeping his distance, treating you like the little sister heâs supposed to protect. but when your brother leaves town and asks him to âkeep an eye on you,â the careful line heâs been walking finally starts to crack. what was meant to be an innocent visit to check on you quickly turns into something forbidden and filthy, something neither of you can walk away from anymore.
áĄŕ§ pairings: brotherâs best friend!satoru x fem!reader
áĄŕ§ c. warnings: heavy yearning, heavy sexu-al tension (like super heavy!), emotional restraints, dry hum-ping, protected se-x, ti-ts play, sp-it play (?), mutual pining, did i say heavy se-xual tension? slight size kink, overstim, thigh rid-ing, we have an aftercare this time yayyyy! â word count: 7.2k+
youâve known satoru gojo since you were six years old and he was twelve, the loud, white-haired boy your older brother dragged home after school like a stray cat he refused to leave behind.
back then satoru was all gangly limbs and bright blue eyes, always stealing your snacks and letting you ride on his shoulders when your brother got tired of carrying you. the three of you became a little unit almost instantly. movie nights on the living room floor, summer afternoons at the park, late-night video games where satoru would let you win just to watch you cheer.
your brother was officially his best friend, but somewhere along the line the lines blurred.
you were never sure if satoru was your brotherâs best friend or yours. he was just⌠satoru. the constant reminder in your life who knew how you liked your ice cream and remembered your favorite color even when you changed it every month.
years passed and the dynamic shifted without anyone noticing at first. you grew up, and growing up consisted of puberty.
satoru grew taller, broader, more dangerously handsome with that lazy grin that made girls at school blush. but you stayed the little sister in everyoneâs eyes, the one who tagged along behind her brother and his best friend, the one who fell asleep on the couch between them during horror movies, the one satoru would tuck a blanket over with gentle hands while your brother snored on the other side.
everyone else thought like that but satoru. satoru noticed the changes. he noticed the way your legs got longer, the way your laugh got softer and feminine, the way your body filled out in ways that made his throat tight and his thoughts guilty. he told himself it was nothing. you were his best friendâs little sister, which meant youâre off-limits. and by off-limits, youâre a forbidden fruit he wasnât allowed to even look at for too long or he would rot you with his dirty thoughts.
nobody sensed how he started pulling away in small ways when you turned eighteen. longer gaps between visits, fewer sleepovers, more excuses about being busy with college and then with work. but he never stayed away completely. satoru couldnât.
every time he saw you he felt that familiar pull, the way his chest tightened when you smiled at him like he hung the moon for you. the way his cock would twitch traitorously when you wore those tiny shorts around the house in the summer every time he came over and god, he hated himself for it because right after heâs done, he would go home after and jerk off in the shower with his jaw clenched, whispering your name like a curse while hot water beat down on his back, telling himself it was the last time.
it was never the last time.
now youâre twenty-two and heâs twenty-eight. your brother still treats you like the kid who used to beg for piggyback rides. satoru still calls you âboogersâ sometimes, but the word tastes bitter on his tongue now.
the three of you still hang out, still have movie nights from time to time since satoru could never say no to your asking, he joins your family and still act like nothing has changed. but everything has. satoru can barely look at you without feeling the weight of all those years of wanting. he watches the way you move around the kitchen in your sleep shorts when youâre getting snacks ready for the movies, the way your t-shirt rides up when you reach for something on the top shelf, the way you laugh at his stupid jokes and rest your head on his shoulder like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
every innocent touch feels like torture. every time your thigh brushes his on the couch he has to fight the urge to pull you into his lap and show you exactly what you do to him.
this time your brother is out of town this weekend for a work trip he couldnât get out of.
he left satoru with the spare key and the casual instruction to âkeep an eye on her.â satoru laughed it off on the phone, responding with a choked âyeah, âcourse, i got you man.â but the second he hung up his mind was already spinning. he told himself heâd just check in once, maybe bring some takeout, make sure you werenât lonely and nothing more.
but fuck was he wrong, cause satoru only lasted exactly four hours before your text came through:
âmovie night? the new horror one just dropped. brotherâs gone so no one to complain about the jump scares :)â
he stared at the message for ten full minutes. then thatâs when he grabbed his keys, all thoughts starting to get pumped to his dick.
when he knocks on your door itâs a little after ten. you open it wearing your usual oversized, small ribbons printed t-shirt and those damn cotton shorts that have haunted his dreams for years. your skin is soft under the radiating light from the porch, face bare, and you smile at him like heâs the best part of your night.
shit. satoru feels his stomach drop.
âhey, you came,â you say, stepping aside to let him in. your voice is casual, warm, the kind of voice that used to make him feel safe and now makes his cock stir in his sweatpants.
âcouldnât let you watch horror alone,â he replies, forcing that tired, loose grin. he holds up the bag of snacks like a peace offering. âbrought the good stuff.â
you laugh and it hits him straight in the chest. he follows you to the living room, trying not to stare at the way the hem of your shorts teases him in front of him. the fabric riding up with every step. the tv is already on, lights dimmed, blankets piled on the couch. you settle in your usual spot, patting the cushion beside you. satoru sits, puts the snacks down onto the coffee table, leaving what he hopes is a respectful distance, but you immediately scoot closer, tucking your legs under you and leaning your head against his shoulder like always.
maybe your nickname was not supposed to be boogers but dumbass cause you donât seem to take sign on how youâre making it hard for him to stay normal and sane. or so he thought.
the movie starts. the opening credits roll. satoru tries to focus on the screen. he really does. but all he can feel is the warmth of your body against his side, the soft press of your bare thigh against his, the faint vanilla scent of your shampoo. his hand rests on the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder when he shifts.
every innocent touch feels loaded tonight. the house is too quiet without your brotherâs loud commentary. itâs just you and him and years of unspoken tension hanging heavy in the dark.
halfway through the first act you stretch, arms lifting above your head, shirt riding up to show a strip of soft stomach. satoruâs eyes flick down before he can stop them, fingers twitching not to touch you and when you settle again your leg presses fully against his. he doesnât move away. instead his fingers brush your shoulder again, slower this time, thumb stroking once along your skin.
âcold?â he asks, voice quieter than he means.
you shake your head, tilting your face up to look at him. your eyes are soft in the glow of the tv. âno. just getting comfortable.â
he swallows hard. his hand drops from the couch to rest lightly on your upper arm, thumb still stroking slow circles. the touch is supposed to be casual but it isnât. at least thatâs what satoru knows.
the movie keeps playing but the man sitting next to you is not really watching anymore. the air between you feels thicker, warmer, charged with everything youâve both been pretending doesnât exist for years.
satoruâs jaw clenches. he can feel his cock starting to thicken in his sweatpants, the traitorous heat building low in his gut. he tells himself to stop. he tells himself youâre his best friendâs little sister. he tells himself a lot of things.
you shift again, turning slightly so your knee brushes his thigh. and lord knows how heâs struggling not to make a sound, especially when your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak.
âsatoru?â
he looks down at you, blue eyes dark in the low light. âyeah?â
you bite your lip, just for a second, and the small movement sends another rush of blood straight to his cock.
âyouâve been really quiet tonight.â
fuck.
he forces a laugh, but it comes out strained. âam i?â he asks. âjust focused on the movie.â his reply doesnât satisfy you and you donât look convinced so your hand rests lightly on his chest, right over his heart. âliar.â you call him out.
liarâŚ
the sting of the word is heavy because satoru is not the only one suffering alone here, youâre a liar as well. and youâre pretending none of this is eating you alive when thatâs exactly how itâs been for you since satoru came to your house.
youâve been stiff as a board since the moment you sat down, even though youâre trying so hard to act normal. you can feel it in the way his shoulder has gone tight under your cheek, the way his breathing isnât quite as steady as usual, the way his long fingers keep flexing against the couch like he doesnât know what to do with them.
the tv flickers soft blue light across both of you, painting shadows over his sharp jaw and the faint flush creeping up his neck, but youâre not watching the movie anymore. youâre watching him, noticing every detail.
your hand stays light on his chest, right over his heart, and you can feel how fast itâs beating under your palm. thump-thump-thump, way too quick for someone whoâs supposedly just chilling on the couch. you shift a little closer, letting your bare thigh press more firmly against his â testing water â and thatâs when you notice it full.
the soft, heavy bulge under the dark blue-black sweatpants heâs wearing. itâs not fully hard yet, but itâs definitely there, thickening slowly against the loose fabric, the outline just visible every time the tv screen flashes brighter. your stomach flips, heat pooling low between your legs because you did that. youâre doing that to him right now, just by sitting here in your tiny shorts with your head on his shoulder like you always have.
the tension sits thick and heavy between you, wrapping around every small movement. every time you breathe, your chest brushes his arm.
every time he shifts, his thigh presses harder against yours. the air feels warmer than it should, like the room itself is holding its breath along with both of you. you can smell his cologne mixed with the faint mint from his gum, and underneath it all something warmer, something that makes your mouth water.
satoruâs hand on your upper arm hasnât stopped moving. his thumb keeps stroking those slow, careful circles, but now each pass feels heavier, more deliberate, like heâs fighting the urge to slide his whole palm down your skin.
you tilt your head up a little more, letting your breath fan across the side of his neck. his jaw clenches. you watch the muscle jump, watch the way his adamâs apple bobs when he swallows. the bulge in his sweatpants twitches again, growing thicker, the fabric starting to tent just enough that you can see the clear shape of him.
your own body reacts instantly, a warm rush between your thighs, your nipples tightening under the thin t-shirt. youâre suddenly aware of how little youâre wearing, how your shorts exposed so much skin the bottom curve of your ass is almost showing, how your shirt keeps slipping off one shoulder no matter how many times you fix it.
satoruâs fingers tighten on your arm for half a second before he forces them to relax. his breathing has gone shallow. you can feel the heat pouring off him, the way his thigh muscles are locked tight under your leg. the movie keeps playing, some girl screaming on screen, but none of you flinch and the only sound that matters is the quiet hitch in his breath when your knee accidentally nudges higher up his leg, brushing right against the side of that growing bulge.
he doesnât pull away. he stays perfectly still, like moving even an inch might break whatever fragile control he has left.
you bite your lip, heart hammering so loud youâre sure he can hear it. the flush on your neck is spreading, warm and prickly, and a tiny bead of sweat is already forming at the small of your back. you feel sticky and hot and aching, and all youâve done is sit here with your head on his shoulder.
the years of quiet âwantingâ press in harder tonight, sharper because your brother isnât here to act as a buffer. itâs just you and satoru and the heavy, suffocating knowledge that youâre both thinking about the same thing.
satoru clears his throat suddenly, the sound rough and forced. he shifts, moving his arm from around you, and stands up in one quick motion. his sweatpants do nothing to hide how hard he is now, the thick outline pressing obviously against the front, the fabric stretched tight. he keeps his back half-turned to you like that will somehow fix it.
âuh⌠i need some water,â he mutters, voice low and strained. âor a coke. something cold.â
you sit up slowly, fixing your shirt so it covers your shoulder again, but it doesnât help much. your skin feels too warm, a light sheen of sweat already making the back of your neck sticky. your cheeks are flushed, you can feel the heat in them, and between your legs youâre starting to get embarrassingly wet, the thin cotton of your panties clinging to you. you swallow, trying to sound normal even though your voice comes out a little breathy.
âoh yeah, okay. itâs in the fridge. you know your way around.â
satoru nods once, still not fully facing you, and heads toward the kitchen. his shoulders are stiff, steps a little too deliberate, like heâs forcing himself to put distance between you. you stay on the couch, legs pressed together, heart still racing and satoru disappears into the kitchen.
you stay on the couch, legs pressed tight together, trying to calm the flutter between your thighs. the movie is still playing but the sound feels distant, like itâs happening in another room. you can hear him open the fridge, the soft clink of a can, the quiet hiss when he cracks it open. a few seconds later he walks back in, coke in one hand, the other rubbing the back of his neck like heâs trying to shake something off.
heâs too distracted to consider bringing you one.
he looks at you for a long moment before he sits down again, this time leaving a little more space between your bodies but it doesnât help.
the air still feels charged, heavy with everything neither of you has said out loud. you notice the way his sweatpants still sit a little awkwardly, the thick line of his cock not fully softened, pressing against the fabric every time he shifts, manspread awkwardly.
your own skin is warm and sticky, a faint sheen of sweat on your neck and between your breasts, your nipples tight and sensitive under the thin t-shirt.
satoru takes a long sip of the coke, throat working, then sets the can on the coffee table. when he leans back against the couch his arm brushes yours again, and this time he doesnât pull away. his fingers find your shoulder once more, but instead of the casual thumb strokes from before, his whole palm settles there, warm and heavy.
it seems heâs calmed a bit.. which means youâre the one whoâs suffering hundred percent.
âyou okay?â he asks, voice low, a little rough around the edges.
you nod, but it feels like a lie. âyeah⌠just warm in here.â
his eyes flick down to the flushed skin of your neck, then lower to where your shirt has slipped off your shoulder again. he doesnât say anything, but his thumb starts brushing the bare skin near your collarbone. the touch is slow, almost absent, but it sends heat straight down your spine. you shift like youâre under a spell without thinking, your bare thigh sliding against his again, and this time your knee nudges right against the side of his cock through the sweatpants.
satoru inhales sharply. his hand slides from your shoulder down your arm, stopping at your wrist. his thumb presses lightly against your pulse point, feeling how fast your heart is racing.
âyouâre shaking,â he murmurs.
âso are you,â you whisper back.
the only light flickering on both of you is the glow from the tv, casting soft blue and white across both of you. satoru turns his head to look at you fully, blue eyes dark and conflicted, pupils blown wide as if heâs high. his free hand comes up, hesitating for half a second before he cups the side of your face, thumb brushing your lower lip.
âthis is a bad idea,â he says, eyes dancing over your lips but he doesnât sound convinced. his voice is thick, breath warm against your mouth.
âthen why does it feel so good?â you have no idea how words are forming in your mouth when your brain disconnected from your tongue a long time ago, and the only option you have is leaning into his touch.
he lets out a quiet, broken sound, half groan, half sigh. his thumb presses a little harder against your lip, parting it slightly. you part your lips more, letting the tip of his thumb slip just inside, brushing against your tongue. satoruâs eyes flutter for a second, jaw tight.
âfuck⌠youâre killing me.â
you suck gently on his thumb, just enough to make his breath hitch. his other hand slides down to your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt like heâs anchoring himself. the tension snaps slowly, like a rubber band stretching thinner and thinner until it finally gives.
satoru pulls his thumb from your mouth with a wet sound and replaces it with his lips. the kiss starts soft, almost careful, lips sliding together warm and slow. but the second you make a small needy sound in the back of your throat he deepens it, tongue licking into your mouth, hot and hungry. years of holding back pour into that kiss, all the stolen glances, all the guilty nights in the shower, all the times he told himself no.
his hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he pulls you sideways until youâre straddling one of his thick thighs. the moment your core settles over the hard muscle you both moan quietly into the kiss. your soaked panties press right against his leg, the thin cotton already clinging to your folds from how wet you are. satoruâs fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass, guiding you into a slow, rolling grind.
you start moving. slow, deliberate rocks of your hips that drag your swollen clit along the firm muscle of his thigh. every pass makes the fabric of your shorts and panties rub against you, the friction hot and slick and perfect. each roll pushes more wetness out of you, soaking the cotton until it clings transparently to your pussy. satoru groans low in his chest when he feels the damp heat spreading across his thigh, his cock twitching hard in his sweatpants, the thick head nudging against your inner thigh with every grind.
he breaks the kiss with a wet sound, lips shiny, breathing ragged. his mouth trails down your neck, sucking softly at the sensitive skin, then lower, until his lips brush over your collarbone. when he reaches your chest he doesnât push your shirt up. instead he closes his mouth around one of your pebbled nipples right through the thin fabric.
the sensation is immediate and filthy. his tongue swirls slow and heavy over the stiff peak, soaking the cotton instantly. warm spit seeps through the material, making it cling to your breast, turning the white fabric translucent.
he sucks gently at first, then harder, pulling your nipple deeper into his mouth while his tongue flicks fast and wet. the wet patch grows, dark and shiny, the outline of your hard nipple completely visible through the soaked shirt. every pull of his mouth sends sharp sparks straight to your clit, making your hips roll faster against his thigh.
âmmh⌠fuck,â he groans against your chest, the vibration traveling through the damp fabric. âlook at you. letting me cover you with my spit. your bodyâs so fucking readyfor me already, yeah?â
he switches to the other nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth with a wet, obscene sound. more drool collects from the corners of his lips, smearing down the front of your shirt in shiny trails, soaking the fabric until both your tits are glistening and see-through. the cool air hits the wet patches and makes your nipples ache even more, stiff and sensitive under his relentless mouth. he keeps sucking noisily, alternating between slow, deep pulls and quick flicks of his tongue, you could swear his spit is probably dripping down your stomach now, making the front of your shirt stick to your skin.
youâre grinding harder, hips rolling in needy little circles, clit dragging over his thigh with every movement. the friction is slick and constant, your soaked panties sliding against the hard muscle, the wet sounds of fabric rubbing together mixing with the filthy noises his mouth makes on your chest. your hands are in his white hair, tugging gently, soft whimpers and gasps spilling from your lips every time he sucks particularly hard.
satoruâs cock is throbbing visibly in his sweatpants, the thick ridge pressing insistently against your inner thigh, leaking enough that a small dark spot has formed at the front. every time you grind forward the head of his cock nudges closer to your core, teasing you both with how close he is to where you both desperately want him to be.
he pulls back just enough to look at the mess heâs made. your shirt is completely ruined, plastered transparently to your tits, nipples dark and shiny with his spit, little droplets still sliding down your stomach. his eyes are heavy-lidded, breathing ragged, lips swollen and wet.
âso fucking pretty,â he murmurs, voice rough and low. âyâknow how iâve been dreaming about marking you up like this for years? look how filthy i got you⌠your brother will fuck me up.â
he leans in again, mouth latching back onto your nipple through the drenched fabric, sucking harder while his hands grip your ass tighter, helping you grind faster against him. the wet, messy sounds fill the room â his mouth sucking noisily, your slick panties sliding over his thigh, both of you breathing hard and shaky.
the tension is thick and suffocating, every slow grind and every wet kiss pushing you both closer to the edge without either of you saying it out loud yet.
after what feels like euphorically forever, satoru pulls back from your chest with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen, eyes heavy as he looks at the absolute mess heâs made of your shirt.
his breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling fast under his hoodie, and for a second he just stares at you like he canât believe this is real. then his hand slips down, fingers dipping into the pocket of his sweatpants, and he pulls out a small foil packet. the condom glints under the dim light, and you raise a brow, lips parting in quiet surprise.
he catches the look and just shrugs, a lazy, almost sheepish tilt of his shoulders, causing your cheeks flushing darker. âhad to,â he mutters, voice low and rough, like the words are being dragged out of him. âcouldnât risk it. not with you.â
you let out a soft, cheeky laugh, the sound breathy and teasing even though your heart is hammering. âyouâve always wanted to fuck me, huh?â
satoruâs brows knit together instantly, that familiar stern little frown pulling at his face, but his eyes stay dark and hungry. âthatâs a vulgar word, boogers,â he says, the nickname slipping out like habit, but thereâs no real bite to it. he leans in and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to the tip of your nose, lips brushing there gently before he pulls back just enough to look at you again. âi want to make you feel good. thatâs all.â
you groan, half playful, half frustrated, and swat your hand lightly against his chest. âstop calling me boogers, toru. seriously!â
he just hums, low and warm, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hands slide to your hips. he helps lift you a little higher on your knees, giving himself room, and shoves his sweatpants and briefs down in one smooth motion. they pool around his calves, leaving his thick cock springing free, heavy and flushed, the head already glistening.
he tears the foil packet open with his teeth, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet room, and the sweet strawberry scent of the condom fills the small space between your bodies, fruity and almost too innocent for how filthy this feels.
satoru rolls it down his girthy tip first, jaw tightening as the latex stretches over him. a soft, broken whimper slips out of him when the cool material slides along his sensitive head, his hips twitching once before he rolls it all the way to the base with steady fingers. the condom sits snug, shiny and strawberry-sweet, the faint pink tint of it catching the tv light. he looks up at you then, eyes dark and solemn, waiting.
his hands move to your shorts and panties next, hooking into the waistband and sliding them down your thighs together in one slow tug.
you lift your hips to help, and the soaked fabric peels away from your pussy with a wet sound, leaving you completely bare from the waist down. he doesnât stop there. his fingers catch the hem of your spit-drenched shirt and peel it up and off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. now youâre completely naked in his lap, skin flushed and glowing under the flickering light, tits still shiny with his dirty work, pussy glistening and swollen from all the grinding.
satoru is still mostly dressed, only his hoodie on, sweatpants and briefs shoved down to his calves, the contrast making everything feel even unholy. he licks a bold stripe across his palm, tongue dragging slow and wet, then reaches between you and swipes the slick hand over your folds. the touch is warm and deliberate, fingers spreading your wetness, thumb brushing your clit once before he grips the base of his cock and guides the thick, condom-covered head to your entrance.
he presses in slow, so slow, the blunt tip stretching you open inch by careful inch. his brows knit tight with concentration, eyes locked on your face, watching for any flicker of pain or discomfort. you feel every thick ridge as he sinks deeper, the stretch burning sweet and full, your walls fluttering around him.
your eyes start to haze, lashes fluttering, jaw going slack as the overwhelming sensation of being filled by him hits you. your breathing stutters, lips parted on a silent gasp, completely detached for a moment while your body adjusts to the heavy, girthy length pushing inside.
satoru knew you were small compared to him but never did he think youâd be struggling to fit his fat cock in your tight cunt this much.
satoru stays perfectly still once he bottoms out, hips flush against yours, breathing hard through his nose. his hands grip your waist tight, thumbs stroking soothing circles on your skin as he waits, watching the way your eyes glaze over and your jaw hangs open. the strawberry scent mixes with the sharp smell of your arousal, the room quiet except for the low hum of the credit scene of the horror movie and the sound of both of you trying to breathe through the intensity.
âcan i move?â he asks, voice low and calculated, almost a whisper, like heâs afraid to break the moment. his brows are still knitted, waiting for any sign from you.
you canât find words right away. instead you just tap his shoulder once, twice, a small, mute signal that youâre okay, that you want this. satoru exhales shakily, relief and hunger mixing in the sound, and he starts to move.
at first itâs slow, careful rolls of his hips that drag his thick cock along your walls, the stretch burning so good it makes your breath hitch. you start grinding down to meet him, hips rolling in small, needy circles, your slick coating the base of his cock and smearing messily over the soft, dark trail of hair that runs from his navel down to where he disappears inside you. every grind leaves a shiny trail of your wetness glistening on his skin, the wet sounds squelching in the quiet room.
youâre vocal in little bursts, whispers of his name slipping out between shaky breaths. âsatoru⌠toruâŚâ the words are breathy, almost reverent, filling the living room like a secret. your hands slide up his hoodie, fingers digging into his chest as you grind harder, chasing the friction, the fullness, the way he fills you so completely.
âtoo big.. youâreâ toru, fuuuck,â you cry out.
satoru leans back against the couch, arms dropping to his sides for a moment, face going almost numb with pleasure. his blue eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, white hair messy and falling into his face as he watches you ride him. he looks completely under your spell, like the sight of you naked and grinding on his cock has short-circuited his brain. the curve of his cock jerks inside you when you desperately grab his hand and bring it to your tits, pressing his palm against the soft, post spit-slick flesh.
that seems to snap him back. his face shifts from dazed to focused in an instant, intention clear in the way his jaw tightens. he wants to make you feel good. thatâs all he cares about right now.
âi got you, yeah? âm here.â
he braces himself, planting his heels firmly on the floor, one arm wrapping tight around your hips while the other hand stays on your breast, fingers tweaking and rolling your nipple between them. then he starts fucking up into you. the first thrust is deep and powerful, hips snapping up so his cock drives into you harder, the angle perfect, the thick head rubbing right against that spongy spot inside you that makes your vision spark.
âthatâs it, baby,â he murmurs, voice wrecked but steady, focused entirely on you. âfeel good? tell me if itâs too much.â
he sets a rhythm, slow at first but building, each upward thrust meeting your downward grind, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. his arm around your hips keeps you steady, guiding you, while his fingers keep playing with your nipple, pinching and tugging just enough to send sparks straight to your clit. every time he bottoms out you whimper his name again, softer, breathier, your slick continuing to smear over his happy trail and the base of his cock, making everything messy and shiny.
satoruâs eyes never leave your face. he watches every twitch of your expression, every time your lips part on a moan, every time your eyes flutter. his whole focus is on you, on making sure every thrust feels perfect, on drawing out those little whispers of his name until they turn into broken cries. he fucks up into you with controlled power, the condom sliding slickly inside your soaked pussy, sweat mixing with the sharp smell of sex.
he leans forward slightly, mouth finding your other nipple again, sucking it into his mouth through the remnants of dried spit still on your skin, tongue swirling while he keeps thrusting. the dual sensation â his cock dragging inside you and his mouth on your breast â makes your back arch, a louder moan spilling out this time.
âgood girl,â he breathes against your wet skin, voice low and praising. âtaking me so well. just let me make you feel good, yeah? thatâs all i want.â
his hips keep snapping up, steady and deep, the arm around your waist holding you down so you take every inch while his fingers keep working your nipple and his mouth keeps sucking the other. the living room fills with the wet sounds of him fucking into you, your soft whispers of his name, and the heavy breathing of two people who have waited years for this exact moment.
satoru keeps that steady, deep rhythm, hips rolling up into you with controlled power while his mouth stays busy on your tits.
every upward thrust drags his thick, condom-covered cock along your walls, the head catching perfectly against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. his arm around your waist holds you down on his cock, the wet slap of skin meeting skin growing louder, messier, your slick continuing to smear over his happy trail and the base of his cock until the dark hair glistens with it.
he switches between sucking one nipple and tweaking the other with his fingers, tongue swirling slow and wet, spit dripping down your chest in shiny trails that catch the flickering tv light.
youâre riding him but barely, your hips grinding in small, desperate circles while he does most of the work, fucking up into you with deep, purposeful strokes that make your breath hitch every single time he bottoms out. your hands clutch at his hoodie, nails digging into the fabric as soft, broken whispers of his name keep slipping out â âtoru⌠satoruâŚâ â the fruity scent of the condom mixes with the sharp smell of sex, filling the dark living room until itâs all you can breathe.
your legs start to twitch first. the muscles in your thighs quiver against his sides, small, uncontrollable tremors that travel down to your calves.
satoru notices immediately. his eyes flick down, watching the way your knees shake beside his hips, the subtle way your body is starting to tighten and flutter around him. a low, knowing hum vibrates in his chest and he shifts beneath you, sliding one arm under the knee closest to him. with a smooth, effortless motion he hooks it up and presses it toward your chest, folding you open even wider while youâre still on top of him.
the new angle spreads you so much more, your pussy stretching tighter around his cock, the head dragging harder against that perfect spot with every thrust.
you gasp sharply, the sound cracking in the back of your throat as the deeper penetration hits you all at once. satoruâs other arm stays banded around your waist, holding you steady, and now heâs fully in control even though youâre on top. he fucks up into you with stronger, deeper strokes, hips snapping with purpose, the wet squelch of your soaked pussy taking him echoing louder in the quiet room.
âcâmon, youâre gonna bless me, baby?â he murmurs against your neck, voice rough and focused. âcome on my cock, there you go. you just gotta feel it.â
your riding turns sloppy, hips stuttering as the pressure builds fast and overwhelming. your legs tremble harder, the one heâs holding to your chest shaking visibly. your walls start to flutter and clench around him in tight, rhythmic pulses, your slick gushing out around the base of his cock with every thrust. satoru groans low when he feels it, but he doesnât slow down. he keeps driving up into you, steady and relentless, the arm under your knee keeping you spread wide and open for him.
you come hard.
your whole body folds forward suddenly, chest pressing against his as a broken, whining cry tears from your throat, your mouth is open and breathing straight into his mouth. your pussy clamps down around his cock in strong, pulsing waves, gushing wet and hot around him even through the condom. tears slip down your flushed cheeks, eyes squeezing shut while you sob his name in soft, overwhelmed whimpers â âtoru⌠fuck, toruâŚâ â your hips jerking and twitching uncontrollably as the orgasm crashes through you.
satoru keeps fucking you through it, slower now but still deep, drawing out every pulse and every shaky sob. his hand on your waist rubs soothing circles while the other keeps your leg folded to your chest, holding you open so he can feel every flutter and gush. he presses soft kisses to your temple, your wet cheek, murmuring quiet praise against your skin as you tremble and cry in his lap, completely spent and folded against him.
tsatoru holds you close through the last trembling waves of your orgasm, his cock still buried deep inside your fluttering pussy. he presses gentle kisses to your damp temple then your flushed cheek, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back while you come down.
âiâm.. fuck, youâre so good to me.â the way he grunts those words out shows you heâs not done yet.
his grip tightens on your waist and under your knee, and he starts fucking up into you again â deeper than you thought was possible. each thrust is slow, powerful, and deliberate, driving his thick cock so far inside you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
the new angle has the head of his cock pressing right against that spot with every upward snap of his hips, stretching you open wider, filling you fuller than youâve ever been filled. the wet, filthy sounds of him plunging deep into your soaked pussy echo in the quiet living room, your slick leaking out around the base of his cock and dripping down his balls with every thrust.
âshit⌠so deep,â he groans against your ear, voice wrecked and low. âcan you feel me, baby? feel how deep iâm getting? thatâs it⌠take every inch.â
he fucks you with long, grinding strokes, hips rolling up hard and steady, the arm under your knee keeping you folded and spread so he can bury himself to the hilt every single time. your body jolts with each thrust, tits bouncing against his chest, soft cries and whimpers spilling from your mouth as the overstimulation turns into another building wave of pleasure.
satoruâs breathing grows ragged, his thrusts turning sharper, more desperate, the slap of skin on skin getting louder as he chases his own release.
âgonna come,â he pants, forehead pressed to yours, blue eyes dark and hazy. âgonna fill you up⌠fuck, you feel too good.â
he drives in deep one last time, hips stuttering as he buries himself as far as he can go.
âfuuuck,â a low, broken groan tears from his throat as he comes hard, cock pulsing thick and hot inside the condom while he grinds against you, drawing out every last spurt. his whole body trembles under you, arms locked tight around your frame as he empties himself, the strawberry-scented latex stretching with every heavy pulse.
for a long moment the only sounds are your shaky breathing and his quiet groans. he stays buried deep inside you, holding you close, the leg he had hooked to your chest gently lowered back down so you can relax against him. slowly, carefully, he pulls out, tying off the condom and setting it aside before he gathers you fully into his arms.
satoru shifts so youâre both lying on the couch, your smaller body draped over his chest, his hoodie soft against your bare skin. he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch (you didnât notice that was there from the beginning.) over both of you, tucking it gently around your shoulders. one hand strokes slow, soothing lines up and down your back, the other cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.
âyou okay?â he murmurs, voice soft and rough at the same time. he presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips â gentle, lingering kisses that feel like apologies and promises all at once. âdid i hurt you? was it too much?â
you shake your head against his chest, still catching your breath, and he hums in quiet relief. he keeps touching you. slow strokes along your spine, gentle kisses to your shoulder, his palm rubbing warm circles over your lower back where youâre still a little sore. every touch is careful, tender, like heâs trying to memorize the way you feel in his arms now that the line has finally been crossed.
and now that his time with you is very limited. by limited:
âyour brother told me to keep an eye on you,â the topic feels heavy already when he says it after a while, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips as he looks down at you. his fingers keep tracing lazy patterns on your skin. âif this is what it takes⌠so be it.â
so be the risk of making the person, his person whom he lovâ
realization hits and splashes on satoru like a bucket filled with water and ice. satoru loves. satoru loves you. he is in love, satoru loves someone who is a very much forbidden person.
he pulls you closer, wrapping both arms around you fully, the thought of your brother finding what he did to you can be stressed over for later, what matters now is your naked body tucked safely against his mostly-clothed one. the tv is still playing a new trailer for next movie faintly in the background, completely ignored.
satoru holds you like that for a long time â warm, steady, protective â pressing soft kisses to wherever his lips can reach, murmuring quiet praises and gentle nonsense until your breathing evens out and your eyes start to drift shut.
âtoru, do you think this is okay?â your voice is muffled with how youâre both tangled together. he doesnât reply at first so you take it as a sign to continue. âwhat are we gonna do after this? what if my brotââ
âiâve got you,â he cuts you off with a whisper against your hair, one last kiss pressed to the top of your head. âalways have and nothing will happen, just take some rest and weâll deal with it tomorrow.â
he can feel your body relaxing the moment he says that and satoru smiles a little, his heart swelling of fonding.
the living room feels smaller and warmer now, the weight of years of tension finally settling into something softer, something real, as satoru keeps holding you close under the blanket, his hand never stopping its gentle strokes along your back before he himself is dozing off from reality.
feeling too tired from his post nut session his brain is blank.
guys am i made for long fics or should i just stick to my regular short drabbles/blurbs? I WANT TO KNOW!