Wax Play. The two words had never crossed your mind until Toji mentioned them. He assured you it’d be fun, that you’d feel good. Toji would make sure of it. He also promised to be careful, gentle.
You are hesitant at first, even as he explains everything to you. He tells you it’s okay, that he’s done it before. He’s no amateur. That eases you a little, and you end up agreeing to it. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you. So he gets everything ready—takes the candles out and places them on the nightstand beside the bed, along with a lighter. You scrutinize everything as he sets them down on the glass surface; he has so many different kinds of candles, different colors and sizes. There’s also some rope and a red sleep mask, and even a small bucket with ice cubes in it.
“Lie down, doll,” he instructs in an undertone. You lie down your body on the mattress, gulping as you throw a furtive glance at the candles. You’re nervous, yes—but part of you is also excited. There’s just something exhilarating at the prospect of danger, as little as it might be. Toji seems to perceive your hesitation, because he smoothes his hands over your legs in an attempt to make you relax. He smirks at the goosebumps that his touch arises all over your skin. “Don’t worry. I said I’d be careful, didn’t I?”
You shimmy out of your jeans with his help and discard your shirt and bra, tossing them to the side. Toji grabs the rope and gestures for you to stretch your arms over your head. Once you do so, he wraps it around your wrists and the headboard until you’re tied securely to it. He asks if the restraints are too tight.
“Not really,” you reply, voice quivering lightly.
He peers at you with his head slightly tilted. “Should I help you relax a little?”
You nod with another gulp, and he gives a reassuring squeeze on your thigh, massaging your skin a little. Toji licks his lips slowly as his gaze trails down your body ravenously, his pants growing tighter by the second. He’s hard in record time, his mind running wild with images of you covered in wax. He can’t wait to make a mess on your body.
But first things first.
Toji pries your legs open with calloused fingers and has to hold back a groan at the sight alone. He moves his hand between your legs, the tips of his fingers brushing your clothed cunt lightly. He applies a little more pressure the second time, running his fingers along your slit. Your lips fall open with a soft gasp, and Toji ducks his head to pepper featherlight kisses on your legs. His lips trail upward until his hot breath fans over your crotch, and you squirm with eagerness.
“Toji, please,” you whisper, lifting your hips slightly.
He chuckles, placing a warm, teasing kiss on your panties.
“You want my mouth on you, doll?” he purrs, voice velvety, and he blows against you teasingly. Toji’s lips press softly over your panties, nipping on the fabric and tugging on it with his teeth to snap it against you. A desperate whimper escapes you. “Now, now, thought I taught you to be patient, didn’t I?”
“I need you, please,” you breath out, biting on your lip. “Quit teasing.”
“So eager…” he mutters with amusement.
Suddenly, you hear the distinct sound of fabric ripping, and you look down to see Toji throwing the now useless piece of underwear over his shoulder with a smug smile.
“What the—” You’re unable to finish your sentence when he flicks his tongue against you, and he uses the pad of his thumb to rub your clit.
His tongue swirls around the area with expertise, and he suckles on your bundle of nerves, his actions making you moan and arch your back. His free hand moves up to fondle your breasts while he busies the other by inserting two fingers inside your sopping cunt, pumping them slowly. He relishes in the noises you’re making, which go straights to his cock. It twitches in his pants, and he ruts his hips against the mattress in search for some friction.
“So damn sweet…” he mumbles against you, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He lets out a pleased sigh, tongue never stopping its ministrations. “Such a pretty pussy… so wet for me— fuck.”
He curls his fingers inside you to rub the pads on that sweet little spot that makes your toes curl. At the same time, he suckles on your clit harshly and rolls your pebbled nipple between his fingers. Everything at once is too much, and your back arches as you let out a lewd moan, eyes squeezed shut.
“Daddy!” you cry out. And everything goes quiet. Your eyes widen with horror and Toji freezes on the spot.
You try to clap your hands over your mouth as to not let anything else out, but end up struggling pathetically against your bindings. Toji just stares at you. You had never said anything like that, and neither of you really knows where it came from.
“What?” he exhales softly, a perplex expression on his face.
“T-toji,” you stammer weakly. Your throat tightens with anxiety, and you open and close your mouth, at a loss for words. “I’m sorry— s-sorry, I just— I don’t—”
“Say it again,” he demands, voice laced with heavy lust, eyes impossibly dark.
You blink, baffled at his request. It’s humiliating enough that you let it slip out—screamed it out, more like, and he wants you to say it again?
“What?”
“Say it again,” he repeats, more firmly this time, and looking more closely you notice that his cheeks are tinged a very light pink.
You blink again as realization dawns on you. He liked it. By the looks of it, he loved it. And now he wants you to scream it out again, especially when he impales you with his cock. But if you don’t feel like just saying it, he’ll have to make you. He curls his fingers inside you with emphasis, and your mouth falls open with a silent scream as he attaches his mouth to your clit with renewed energy.
“Say it again,” he demands harshly, lowering his hand from your breast to pinch on your clit roughly. “Or I won’t let you cum.”
And despite yourself, you end up obliging submissively, his ministrations being too good — too much for you to actually focus on anything else.
“Daddy!” you cry out, whimpering loudly.
“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” Toji hisses, and his cock throbs in his pants painfully. He feels like he might pathetically bust just from hearing the sweet noises falling off your lips, but he just can’t help it—not when it comes to you. And you calling him daddy? Fucking hell, he wishes you had done it ages ago. “You taste so good, doll — so fucking heavenly. I could eat this gorgeous cunt for hours.”
He buries his face against you, addicted to your taste and your soft mewls, and he swears nothing could ever beat that. He just wants to spend the rest of his days between your legs.
“Please, more, more— ah!” you babble incoherently.
He scissors his fingers deep inside you, groaning when your walls clench around his fingers, and he murmurs soft praises against your skin, smirking when your legs tremble due to your incoming orgasm. All he has to do is suck a little more and you’re coming undone against his face with a loud moan.
“Now, onto the fun part,” he murmurs, wiping his chin with the back of his hand and standing up to retrieve the lighter and a red candle from the nightstand, you can’t help but notice the dark spot on the front of his sweats, damp with pre-cum. He lights the candle with a low hum, running the tip of his index finger around your breasts while he allows the wick to burn a little. You pant softly, still trying to catch your breath after your orgasm. Toji sets the candle on the table for a moment, grabbing the sleep mask and slipping it on you, making sure your eyes are completely covered. “Ready, baby girl?”
You barely manage to nod, and he caresses your body with tender fingers when he notices how tense you still are. You instantly relax under his touch, chewing on your lip as your expectation builds up. You can’t see a single thing, and Toji’s careful to keep quiet. You’re aware of his heavy breathing, but nothing else.
Suddenly, you feel a sharp sting on the upper part of your abdomen, and you let out a surprised gasp.
“Is it too hot?” Toji asks, stroking your cheek with his knuckles.
You shake your head, gulping lightly. “No, it just… took me a little off guard. It kinda tickles.”
He chuckles softly, letting another drop of hot wax plunge onto your stomach and earning another soft exhalation from you.
“I think you’re gonna like it.”
You feel your stomach churn with what you can only guess is excitement. The thrill of engaging in something a little dangerous and the anticipation of waiting for the next drop of hot wax to hit your skin gives you a certain rush that you like. It’s exhilarating when it hits you, and Toji decides to go a little further when he sees you’re actually enjoying it. Your physical reaction to heat increases your senses, and you feel every single brush of his his lips, every single caress with much more intensity.
Your brow creases in confusion when seconds pass and you don’t feel anything else. And then your jaw drops as you let out a sharp sound when Toji drizzles the hot wax over your stomach, hissing a little at the light burning sensation. It feels good—better than you had expected when he suggested it.
He plays with the wax, tracing different patterns and drawing shapes on your skin. Toji bites his lip at the sight before him—you’ve always looked so good in red… but it’s time to switch it up a little.
Toji takes the pink candle—which he had lit earlier and therefore had a generous amount of melted wax he could spill on you—and drizzles it all over your front, covering the top of your breasts and stomach in a soft pink.
“Oh,” you breathe out, struggling against the restraints as he drips more wax on you, the hot liquid making you squirm. “That feels good.”
“Yeah, doll? You like it?”
“Mhm,” you whimper meekly.
He chortles, happy that he gets to experience this with you.
You hear the clanking of the ice cubes against the metal bucket, and then he spills more wax on you, this time allowing it to pool a little. And you squeal when he drags the melting ice cube along your skin, the mixture of both temperatures making you whimper and arch your back. He licks his lips when he sees your pussy clenching around nothing, repeating the action just so he can witness your reaction to it once again.
“Shit,” you pant, flexing your fingers.
Toji has his fun, painting you in different colors and drawing fun patterns like your skin is an actual canvas. Guess you just bring out the artist in him.
Soon, your breasts, thighs and stomach are covered in various colors, and Toji removes the sleep mask gently, admiring his work with awe.
“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he mutters under his breath, tracing the mess on your skin with his digits. His pants are gone and he’s already shirtless, and you admire the way his muscles flex when he bends forward to untie your wrists. Toji loves it when you tug on his hair.
He ducks his head to to plant a series of kisses along your neck, sucking on the soft flesh to leave a couple marks here and there. “Now, how about I reward you for being such a good girl? Tell me what you want.” He digs his fingers in your cheeks, turning your head roughly so you’re looking at him. “And you better ask for it nicely.”
Gaining a little more confidence after everything that just went down, you hold his wrist and move your face to wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it like you would his cock.
“I want your cock… daddy,” you whisper, nibbling on the tip of his digit. “Please. Want you inside me… want you to fill me up.”
His pupils dilate with desire, his underwear unbearably constricting. He needs to be inside you, and he needs it now.
He doesn’t waste a second before attacking your lips hungrily, grabbing a bunch of your hair into his fist and pulling on it to make you look up. You fumble with the waist of his underwear, and he helps you remove the garment hastily, desperate to have his hands back on you. Toji explores your body with them, feeling the hardened wax under his fingers. His movements are slow and sensual, almost seems like each of them has been carefully calculated. He’s precise with his touches, applying pressure on all the right spots.
“I’ll give you everything you ask for, doll.” He presses open mouthed kisses on your cleavage, sucking on your nipples and swirling his tongue around them, making sure to give both of them the same attention. Toji digs his fingers in the fat of your ass, groaning against your neck when you snake your arm between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his shaft and start pumping slowly. “Fuck, just like that, baby.”
He moans in your ear, bucking his hips to match the movements of your hand. You run your thumb along his slit, smearing his pre-cum all over his cock, and the amount surprises you. You make sure to twist your wrist with each stroke, loving his deep moans and grunts.
Toji lowers one of his hands to run two of his fingers between your soaking folds, and he teases your entrance with the tips of his digits, moving them upward after a moment to rub tight circles over your clit.
He helps you align his cock with your entrance, rubbing the tip against you teasingly. He very much likes the whimper you let out at that, though he doesn’t tease you for long, because he’s just desperate to be inside you.
And without a warning, he thrusts his hips forward, spreading your walls apart with his thick cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head with a loud mewl, and Toji whimpers when he feels your pussy clamp down on him.
“So fucking tight,” he pants, struggling to keep it together.
He pauses for a second, pressing his lips against your chest. You gasp when he finally bottoms out, arching your back and running your fingers through his hair to tug on it lightly. Toji growls in your ear, rocking his hips against yours. He is addicted to the feeling of being deep inside you, of making you scream out in pleasure. He’s so deep you can feel the head of his cock kissing your cervix effortlessly, and you shiver and scratch his back, leaving red, thin lines along it. He’s relentless, picking up the pace with each thrust until he’s ramming into you with full force.
“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he demands.
You struggle to process what he just said, too cock drunk to understand his demand. Part of your brain seems to register it though, because you moan, “You, daddy— fuck! ’s all yours, all yours.”
Toji pushes your legs up against your chest and buries his fingers in the flesh of your thighs. It’s so lewd, the squelching sound of your pussy suctioning his cock, skin slapping against skin, mewls and moans and groans. Toji’s obsessed — he never wants it to end.
“Such a good girl for daddy,” he praises you, lowering his hand to rub it on your clit. You pant heavily, digging your nails into his arms. “Cum for me, doll. Fuck, you’re gripping me so hard.”
And just as instructed, you scream out a loud 'Daddy!' as you reach your climax, and Toji is transfixed by the white ring at the base of his cock. It drives him mad with lust—it’s enough to make him cum. His abdomen spasms and contorts as you feel hot spurts of his seed shooting deep inside you, and your pussy clenches hard around him. You feel so full of him, and somehow you just want more.
Toji seems to think the very same thing, because he doesn’t stop.
His lips are everywhere, and so are his hands. He licks, bites, and sucks on every single inch of your skin, and he makes you cum twice more before he’s ready to go again. Soon enough he’s pounding into you, letting out a series of curses and grunts.
He interlocks his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as he uses the other to place your calves on his shoulders. He’s so deep you swear you can almost feel him in your throat, and you don’t care because it simply feels too good. He always manages to make you see stars when he fucks you.
“Fuck, fuck, daddy—!” you cry out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “’s too much, please…”
“I know you can take it, doll, can’t you?” he murmurs, licking a stripe up your neck. You shudder and nod dumbly, a babbling mess under him. You’re willing to take anything he gives you. He chuckles at your fucked out expression. “Atta girl.”
Soon, you’ve cum for a fifth time, and his breathing is so heavy that you know he’s close to his release. It only takes a couple more thrusts before he reaches his high for the second time. Toji pulls out, the thick, white ropes of cum landing messily on your stomach and tits.
“Oops,” he chuckles, smearing his own relase all over your front with his hand.
He’s practically hypnotized, eyes following the trail his fingers are drawing. It’s just one big, hot mess of dried wax and his own seed. He simply ogles you for a moment, wishing he could imprint the image on the back of his eyelids.
“That was…” you leave the rest of the sentence in the air, rendered speechless.
He smiles at you and his gaze softens, a side of him only you’ve gotten to see. Toji brushes his knuckles on your cheek.
“You took it so well,” he hums, tracing the wax with his fingers for a final time. “Let’s get you cleaned up, doll.”
Content warnings : incest on paper (Suna and reader aren’t related). Light choking. Vaginal penetration. Blowjob.
Note : another repost from my old blog ! God I love Suna sobs. English isn’t my first language. Banner from @uzmacchiato
His presence was unexpected, but you guessed your step mother was behind it. Rintarō was a few years older than you, and even if you were already 24, you still lived with your parents -your father and his new wife-. University was not too far away from your house and it was definitely cheaper to stay where you currently lived. But they left for vacation a few days ago, not coming back for at least a whole week.
You already stayed alone in your house and nothing ever happened. So why was Suna standing on your porch, a huge sport bag hanging lazily on his shoulder?
"What are you doing here?" Your step brother and you weren't particularly close to each other, which added to the overall confusion.
"Mom asked me to monitor you. Nothing more." He entered the house without even making sure you were alright with it, which directly annoyed you, but you kept it all inside. It was his house too after all, even if Suna decided on leaving it a few years ago.
As you followed him through the corridor, Suna took his shoes off, letting his bag on the sofa before sitting on it, turning the TV on.
Your eyes were on him, and you couldn't help but admire him. It was true that your step brother was annoying - he always knew which button to press in order to make you mad younger - but Suna was now an adult, and he was handsome. From his green feline eyes to his sharp jaw, his face was devoid of defaults.
"Got something on my face huh?" His tone was light, and you could sense the small teasing behind it, which automatically made you roll your eyes. Joining him on the couch, sitting by his side, you took the controller from his hand and changed the channel, making him laugh.
You've always been like that. Suna and his mother met you when he was 17 and you 14, and he couldn't help but tease you, you were just too easy to play with. You've always had this complicated relationship with him. Suna was nice with you, but did the strict minimum.
However, you knew what your annoyance was hiding. You never lied to yourself, you knew since the beginning what was going on inside you. You always had a crush on him, and you couldn't help but reject it by arguing with him, finding reassurance in the distance the repetitive arguments settled between the two of you. You knew it wasn't sane, it wasn't normal, but it wasn't wrong. Morally maybe, but Suna and you didn't share any blood bond, and so, your fantasies developed rather quickly during your teenage years with him living with you.
"How long are you staying here?"
"I don't know. A few days probably, I don't have any matches planned anyway for now." His arm was behind your head on the couch, and you just wanted to lean in, but you restrained yourself. You were conscious it wasn't a good idea, hell Suna would think of you as disgusting.
As the afternoon went on, you caught up on each other's lives, and surprisingly enough, you had a normal discussion with him. Suna even cracked a few smiles and jokes at you, never failing to make you blush.
When the evening arrived, you ordered pizzas, and were now sitting on the couch again, in the same position as before.
"This is so good. You should try it!" You had a slice of pizza in your hand, the one you just bit in. Suna was close to you, his knee touching you as he was eating his own pizza. But as soon as you offered him to taste yours, he leaned closer to you, taking a bite from your own slice, his eyes on you while chewing it.
"Yeah. Fucking good." You almost choked, feeling warmth burning your cheeks at his reaction. You felt like a teenager all over again, and you had the impression your silly crush on him probably never left, because the way you reacted gave it away. Biting your lip while nodding mindlessly, your eyes still lost in his green pools, you heard his chuckle ringing loudly, breaking you from the reverie you were in.
"Aren't you a cute little thing?"
Suna wasn't dumb. Quite the contrary. He knew the attraction you had towards him, and he noticed it a long time ago. When he left the house three years ago, he did it partially because he was afraid he would do something he would regret with you.
But now that you were looking at him like that, Suna wanted nothing more than to destroy you. He knew you wanted him as much as he did, but he was also a player, loving this sick game of hunt. And so, he leaned closer and closer to you until your noses touched, trailing his eyes from yours to your mouth, before tracing the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb, wiping the excess of tomato sauce and bringing it to his mouth, his tongue cleaning his finger. Pulling back as if nothing happened, he turned his face away from you, focusing on the TV again, leaving you flustered and extremely aroused.
That night in the shower, you couldn't help but think about the events of the evening. Rintarō left you speechless and disturbed, but mostly confused. It almost felt like he was flirting with you.
You went to sleep early, exhausted. Until waking up in the middle of the night, an urge to eat pulling you out of your sleep.
You went downstairs, careful not to wake Suna up since you knew he was waking up rather easily. Joining the kitchen, you checked the time on the oven; 3 am.
"You're awake?"
"Fuck!" Startled, you brought your hand to your chest, turning around and facing him. Suna grinned, his eyes watching your every move as he approached you. He was only wearing his sweatpants, his chest on display. And it was hard not to stare. Your tank top and small shorts weren't hiding a lot too, although it was dark. You took a step back, hitting the counter as Rintarō came in front of you. One hand settled on your right as the other came to reach behind you, his body inevitably pressing against yours, his warmth spreading through your skin as his scent filled your nostrils.
"What-"
"Just taking something y/n." And as he pulled back a little, he let his hand fall on your hip, his thumb stroking the small space of skin available for him to touch. Towering over you, he looked at you as you nibbled your lip. You didn't know what to do. His touch was burning you, but you wouldn't dare take his hand off.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
His thumb found your bottom lip, playing with it a little and freeing it from the grasp your teeth had on it.
"That shit."
"Why should I stop?" You didn't know what encouraged you to ask, but you did. Looking at Rintarō expectantly, you cocked an eyebrow at him, innocence filling your eyes.
"Because I won't control myself if you keep doing it."
You almost gasped, your mouth opening wide as his thumb was still on your lip. Next thing you know, you started sucking on his digit, your tongue swirling around it.
"Fuck. I said-"
"Then make me stop." And as you freed his thumb and fell on your knees in front of him, Suna clenched his jaw, looking at you from above. He knew he should stop you. He knew it damn well. But he wanted it for so long already. Feeling your tight pussy wrapped around his fat cock, hearing the lewd noises you could make while he would fill you up with his thick cum. Yeah, Suna tried his best to refrain himself from crossing the line. But when your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and your tongue teased his tip, he lost it.
"Hmm. Seems like you're not as strict as I thought you were, Rin."
Clicking his tongue before tangling his fingers in your hair, the other hand finding support on the counter behind you, Suna rolled his eyes at you.
"Shut up if you only open your mouth to say silly things." Not a second later, he shoved his length down your throat, stuffing your mouth full with his girth, your jaw already aching from the stretch. Your nose was rubbing against his pubes as his balls touched your chin, and pulling back, letting you catch your breath, Suna groaned before slamming his dick back inside your mouth.
Your hands found his thighs, his pretty, strong thighs, and you kept them there, caressing his skin while lifting your eyes up, fluttering them as you flattened your tongue, letting him fuck your mouth as he wished. You dreamt of that moment on so many occasions, and your drenched panties were a good proof. You were aroused by the simple fact of sucking him, and you couldn't even imagine how it would feel to have him inside you. You wanted him to destroy you.
Moaning as he tugged at your hair harder, you moved one hand to his balls, massaging them, all the while taking him in the best you could.
"Such a dirty slut for me. Can't believe you let your brother fuck your mouth like that, huh?"
He patted your cheek affectionately as you nodded, your hum vibrating around his cock and making him swear again.
"Gonna cum baby. Gonna fill your throat. Swallow everything, yeah? Don't disappoint me." You could see his abs tensing and his thigh flexing under your hand, and taking him quicker, your hand working magic with his balls, you felt tears running on your cheeks, mixing with the drool covering your chin.
And as promised, Rintarō emptied himself in your mouth, and you swallowed. Small droplets of his hot and thick cum escaped from the corners of your mouth but you were quick to wipe them with your thumb, sucking it clean after.
"Gonna fuck you so well y/n, you won't eben be able to walk anymore." His hands found your armpits and lifted you up, putting you on the counter and spreading your legs while tearing your shorts up.
"You weren't even wearing panties. God. You really planned it all, huh?" Pouting at his action, you grumbled while he only chuckled, taking the base of his hardening cock and teased your entrance with the tip, already leaking pre-cum again. His hand settled on your nap, pulling your face to him.
"Look at me while I'm fucking you. You wanted it, and you're gonna have it. But if I see you looking somewhere else, I won't let you cum." Your lips found his rather quickly before nodding fervently, already too needy to be a brat anymore. Locking your legs behind his waist, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he forced his tongue past your lips, finally sliding his cock inside your warm pussy.
You were a mess at this point. Your tits were pressed against his naked chest as you kept babbling incoherent things in his mouth. But Suna didn't stop. He inserted himself completely before pulling back and thrusting hard. His cock felt heavy inside you, and the way your slick met his balls each time the tip was kissing your cervix filled your vision with black dots. It was so good, but it seemed like you forgot the rules. His hand which was previously on your hip found your throat, giving it a good squeeze before he detached his lips from yours.
"I said look at me." Opening your eyes again, you felt small tears forming on the corner of your eyes as he slammed back in, his balls slapping loudly against your ass.
"So fucking tight. Shit, d'you like it? You like having my cock deep inside you, yeah?"
"Ye- yeah. Please, please!" You didn't know what you were begging for. But you knew you wanted him, all of him. And Rintarō was here to oblige.
Moans filled the dark kitchen as he brought you over the edge of the counter with one hand, the other still preventing you from breathing correctly. His groans were music to your ears and the way his eyes were on you was driving you insane. You swallowed back a loud sob as he hit a special spot inside you.
"Seems like I found it." His smirk wasn't flattering as he kept bullying your sweet spot.
"Make me cum. I'm begging you Rin." You were delirious, too cock drunk to realise how messy you were. Your juices soaked his abs and your thighs as Suna increased his pace. You could feel his cock throb and as you found it more and more difficult to focus and keep your eyes open, you parted your lips, a silent cry escaping as you unravelled.
"Stop clenching that hard around me baby I- ngh!" Suna followed not too long after, filling you up to the brim.
Both of you were panting, his softening dick still inside you as your head was resting on his shoulder. His hands caressed your hips in slow circles.
"If only I'd known you wanted me, I would have given it to you a while ago."
You giggled silently before leaving a few kisses on his skin, hissing when he pulled out, his cum oozing out of your hole.
"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? Can you walk?"
"Weren't you the one telling me that I wouldn't be able to?" Picking you up while barking a laugh, Suna shook his head before kissing you deeply.
Note : okkkk let’s do it! This is actually a recycled post from my old blog. Hope you enjoy babes xx. English isn’t my first language.
Synopsis : You’re the best bunny of the playboy agency, but your boss wants your pussy so bad he’s tricking you into sum.
wc : ~3090
"Put your hand over your right breast… that's it! Good job, y/n." You smiled at the photographer, the pink lacy thong being the only thing on your body right now. Your manicured hands were covering your breasts, and letting your high heels click on the red fluffy carpet, you looked around the room as the artistic team was looking at the pictures.
You tried not to bite your lip when you straddled the chair, in order not to damage the red lipstick your makeup artist put on your pretty lips before.
"Do you guys need more shots ?" Carla simply nodded at you before checking her phone, looking at the following orders left by the scenarists.
You knew they were all extremely attentive to you at the moment because you were the starlet of the magazine. You were still young, had a great body-you actually didn't get anything done, it was all natural-and your natural frivolous attitude was definitely making the public swoon over you.
You never showed anything, as your cleavage was always covered by something, either your hands, a small bra, or even men's hands. You didn't mind, really, as it meant privacy for you.
You were paid a lot for your job, and that was one of the reasons you would never try to find something else. Plus, your boss was extremely attractive and attentive to his girls. Indeed, at the start of each month, Sukuna requested a personal meeting with each of his bunnies, to make sure everything was fine for them and to ensure their happiness.
What you didn't know, however, was how Sukuna never just wanted to talk with you. How could he when you were the sexiest bunny he ever laid his eyes on?
The man was a serious worker, never keen to mingle privacy and work, but all of his restraints were thrown out of the window the day of your interview. Maybe it was because of the baby blue dress you were wearing, maybe it was due to your intoxicating scent, Sukuna would never know.
Despite your age gap - he was thirty two while you were only twenty - five - Sukuna wanted you. And he would be damned if he let another man get you while he was here.
Quickly enough, you became his favourite, and he made sure you always got what you needed, always spoiling you with the prettiest and most expensive lingerie, jewellery. If he could, Sukuna would actually keep those photoshoots just for himself, but he knew better than to let his possessiveness control him.
Therefore, he kept it quiet, discreet. Moreover and despite his sex appeal, he was your boss, and you never saw him that way, or at least, that was what you repeated to yourself. Because when Playboy parties were thrown in Sukuna 's incredible villa and the other bunnies threw themselves into his arms, their boobs pressing on his huge tattooed biceps, you hated it, really.
Or when you were all in his swimming pool and some girls were on his lap, taking pictures with him to show their audience how good looking their boss was. You didn't even think about the way they talked about him in your shared lodges. To be honest, you wouldn't mind being his little cocksleeve, really.
Which led you to your current position. After the steamy photoshoot you had earlier, you had to get ready for another meeting with him. You put some perfume on, you looked at yourself in the mirror, liking what you saw.
You were looking forward to it because this time you had something serious to discuss with the man. In fact, you got less money than usual, while you worked more. You usually didn't complain, because you lived extremely comfortably, but you couldn't accept that a thousand was missing from your bank account. It was a mistake from their side, right ?
As you made your way to his office, you fixed your skirt, wanting to be as presentable as possible for the man, because despite your dissatisfaction, you still wanted to impress him, to have him wrapped around your fingers.
You arrived in front of the black door, and looking at the neon bunny light, you rolled your eyes, giggling silently. Sukuna was really good at it, always making sure his business and the magazine satisfied the audience the most.
You didn't waste more time and knocked on the door, waiting for him to confirm you could enter to actually open it.
"Yeah ! Come inside." His deep voice made you shiver, and complying, you opened the door, going inside the room, looking at Sukuna manspread on his couch. He was wearing his usual suit - which looked extremely hot on him, his muscles showed off thanks to the material; and his pink hair was, as always, all over the place, making you smile sweetly.
"Look at you, looking so good. I've seen your latest shots, y/n. I must say, doll…, you're amazing. Keep up the good work, yeah?"
You hummed at his praise, closing the door behind you, taking your sweet time to come to him. "Thank you, Sukuna."
He frowned at your cold tone, and patting his strong thigh for you to sit on his lap, he watched you come closer, slowly but surely straddling him, both of your hands finding balance on his broad shoulders, as he held you close by your hips, his thumbs stroking your covered skin.
"What's going on, babydoll ? Why so tense ?"
You scoffed, your long nails tracing his collar, before pouting. "I was supposed to get 5, 000 last month, but I ended up getting 4, 000. I don't understand."
Sukuna let both of his hands creep underneath the material of your silk skirt, caressing your thighs lovingly as you let out a ragged breath.
"My baby isn't satisfied with her income… yeah ? You want more money ?"
"You know it's not - ah," his fingers skillfully found your ass, and kneading the flesh, he pressed your core closer to his growing erection, a clear grin on his face.
"Yeah it is… actually, what about giving you my cock to make up for it, hm ? What d'you say, bunny ?" You could feel the outline of his length with how thin your panties were, but you groaned, head dropping, your forehead resting on his shoulder.
"Sukuna, I want my money," your whine made him smile, and he stroked your spine affectionately with one hand.
"And I want your pussy. A good fuck replacing a thousand, it's a fair shot, isn't it ?" Chewing your bottom lip, you sighed in frustration. Your hands were holding Sukuna's suit so tightly, it was probably going to be all wrinkled by the end of your meeting.
The hand that was still on your hip urged you to move onto his lap, to start grinding, guiding you through it, while you were still thinking about the money you deserved to get.
"I-"
"Shh. Be quiet, lemme pay you back with my cum, alright doll ?" And how could you say no to this man ? He was basically owning the whole business, technically even owning you.
Therefore, you stopped fighting - if that was even what you were doing before - and let him lift the hem of your skirt up, in a way where he could see the wet patch on your panties. Leaning back, his hands still on your ass, Sukuna stuck out his tongue, letting you take the lead.
Your fingers danced on his chest before pulling each of his shirt buttons off, your nails grazing his warm skin as more was shown. His golden chain around his neck was a pleasurable contrast to the warmth of your fingers on his body, and Sukuna closed his eyes, sighing in content.
The man never really cared about ethics and what was wrong and what was right to do. Whenever he wanted something, he simply got it. And you were no exception, because Sukuna had his eyes on you for so long now, and he couldn't contain himself anymore. He needed to have you, or else he would go crazy.
It was his plan all along, actually. He asked the financial team to reduce your pay over the last month in order to get you all worked up and to have you here with him complaining about how inaccurate your pay has been. And Sukuna trapped you, because now that you were sitting pretty in his lap, he was ready to devour you, to make you feel so good you would even forget about this custody.
"C'mon take that off, wanna see your pretty pussy. Show me what I've been missing, babydoll."
Rubbing yourself harder on him, you threw your head back, a small moan leaving your lips. One of your hands was on his strong abdomen, his shirt now fully open and his chest on display. You knew you were leaking, and you knew Sukuna 's slacks were probably getting wet by the second as you intensified the grinding.
The room was silent except for your mewls and his low groans, and even if the contact was great, you knew you would need more to cum.
"I need you, Sukuna, please," it was only a whisper, but the way your silk voice begged for his attention was enough for him to sneak one hand to your core, pushing your panties aside and fucking two of his thick fingers inside your tight pussy, all at once.
"Ah fuck !" You couldn't conceal the cry of pleasure that escaped your mouth. The stretch of his big digits was delicious, even more with his cold rings teasing your clit each time you sank back on his hand, your juices coating his palm.
"Yes. Just like that doll, fuck yourself on my hand, c'mon," biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Sukuna kept his greedy red eyes on your body, on the way your tits bounced with each lift of your hips, on the way your mouth parted to let out the most attractive whimpers he ever heard.
Curling his fingers up inside you, he let the tip caress your gummy walls, searching for your g-spot. His thumb was rubbing circles on your clit, and he wanted to spoil you, to make you come undone first on his hand only.
"Fuck you're so warm, I bet you're gonna milk my cock dry, yeah ?"
"Ye-yes please !" His laugh echoed in the room as you could feel your walls tighten around his fingers. You were so, so close. The rubbing of his expert digits against your sweet spot was making you see stars, and you couldn't form proper words anymore, too engrossed in the pleasure he was willing to give you to talk.
Biting your lower lip as you impaled yourself on his hand once more, you let your nails dig into his abs as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap.
"'Am going to cum, fuck lemme cum I -" your mouth formed an O shape as you closed your eyes, euphoria washing over your whole body, leaving your sore legs shaking around Sukuna muscular thighs.
He pulled back, smiling proudly, before bringing them into his mouth, licking your juices off his knuckles and fingers, keeping his attention on you, as you fluttered your eyes, them landing on his tongue swirling around his digits.
God he was hot.
Not waiting anymore, you smashed your lips on his, tasting yourself in the process. It was more of a battle of tongue and teeth than a kiss though, and Sukuna tangled his fingers with your locks, pressing you harder against his strong body, your tits now fully pressed against his pecs. Lifting his hips up a bit, he indulged in the pleasure your warmth brought him, and feeling his cock twitch in his pants, he shoved you on the couch, finding a place in-between your legs.
You were so welcoming.
"Still want your fucking money, bunny ?" You simply parted your legs wider for him to have easier access, making him Sukuna snort.
"Yeah, could even give you my cock on a daily basis to pay ya, wouldn't complain. Fucking slut," his insult didn't hurt you, it only fuelled your arousal, something he noticed judging by the way you were clenching around nothing.
"Suku’ just - just fuck me, please,"
Throwing one of your legs on his shoulder, the man kissed your ankle before biting the flesh, making you arch your back. Patting his bulge, he unbuckled his belt, letting his black pants fall on his thighs, before swiftly taking off his boxers, freeing his cock.
And you swear you saw heaven at that moment. He was thick and long, the angry red tip already oozing pre-cum. If you weren't so horny, you would have gladly let him fuck your mouth. You could spot two veins adorning his girth, and you knew his balls were heavy with cum, ready to be shot right into your pussy.
Licking your lip in excitement, you gasped when Sukuna leaned down, supporting his weight with one elbow, his face now extremely close to yours. But it wasn't what made you gasp no, it was the way the man kept sliding his length up and down your puffy folds, gathering your juices. Teasing your clit with his tip, Sukuna threw a glance between your bodies, loving how obedient you were for him, and how greedy you were to feel him stretch your insides.
"You want my cock so bad, huh?"
You nodded fervently, wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing him again. You loved kissing, especially a man like him. "Fuck me, Sukuna." Those three words were said between two sloppy kisses, and who was Sukuna to not give you what you wanted?
"Whatever you want, doll." With one swift motion, he forced himself inside of you, feeling your walls trying to accommodate him the best you could. You arched your back at the intrusion, a loud cry leaving your mouth as fat tears started to form in your eyes. The stretch was painfully good, and the way his cock was filling you up was a feeling you had never experienced before, but could definitely get addicted to. Adding to that the position - one of your legs on his shoulder - it gave Sukuna the opportunity to reach deeper inside you.
Groaning in your neck, the man started biting your skin to muffle the sounds, because you were just swallowing him so fucking well, he could come on the spot.
Sukuna hadn't even started to move, but you were already on the verge of cumming. You could feel just how big he was inside of you, and his teeth sinking into your neck weren't helping you to focus, or think logically.
But just as you thought it would be fine, he started moving. Pulling back slowly, he thrusted hard inside, his fat balls slapping against your ass, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix so fast it made your whole body jiggle with his hips.
"S-Sukuna !" You tried to find something to hold on to, anything, to no avail. He started to move his hips at an impossible pace, fucking you so hard, fucking you so good, your eyes could only roll to the back of your head. You were a babbling mess, feeling how his veins teased your insides with each thrust of his hips.
"Fuck y/n. So fucking tight. 'Am gonna break you," only whimpering, nodding furiously to his words, you let your nails rest on his biceps, scratching his skin each time the slapping of his hips against yours occurred.
He was fucking you dumb, the drag of his fat length inside you making you go crazy.
"Such a sexy bunny I have here… goddamn. Could fuck you all day. I -" his groan was almost animalistic, but it wasn't his fault, the way you clenched around him was just too addictive- " I want you to cockwarm me next time, in your bunny uniform. You'll do that for daddy, yeah ?" His hand wrapped around your throat after that, making you choke on your breath.
"Ye-yeah, anything for daddy !"
"Good fucking girl," gritting his teeth when you moaned particularly loudly after Sukuna hit a peculiar spot inside you, he smirked, slowly losing all of his restraints.
Your juices were coating his balls and your inner thighs, and they were also probably staining the luxurious couch, but none of you really cared. Sukuna was just so good at that, and you could sense your second orgasm coming up rather quickly, threatening to make a mess. Biting your lip hard, you slammed your mouth on Sukuna 's again, tugging on his pink hair while he let his body's weight fall on you a bit, caging you on the couch.
His cheeks were flushed, his chest was sweaty, and Sukuna knew his hair was damp too, a result of the pussy he was getting. But he didn't care, not when his tongue was shoved deep inside your mouth, not when your tight little pussy was getting abused and stretched by his thick cock.
He knew you were close judging by the way you clamped around him, but so was he. Growling in your mouth, he applied more pressure to your throat, his other hand tugging at your hair tightly, his arm still on the couch. He found it hard to breathe, but Sukuna was so close to filling you up to the brim, he didn't stop, still snapping his hips roughly against yours, your juices leaving a white ring around his girth.
"Gonna fucking cum. Don't you dare waste a drop or I'll fuck it back into you, d'you hear me ?"
You simply breathed out a low 'yes' before arching your back once again, your stomach tensing. Finally thrown over the edge, you let your body tremble with spasms, a silent scream leaving your lips as black dots filled your vision.
Sukuna wasn't too far behind, and soon after, his thrusts became sloppy, his whole body ready to combust. With one last thrust, he emptied himself inside you, effectively filling you up to the brim.
Coming down from your high, you mindlessly drew patterns on his back as Sukuna 's mouth found your collarbone.
"Now hop off my back for your money, bunny. Paying you with my cock is enough, don't you think?"
And maybe it wasn't that bad, in the end. Because becoming his favourite bunny would mean a lot of things for you, a good fuck being one of them.
Content Warnings : NSFW (MDNI). Age gap. Corruption kink. Vaginal penetration. Big dick Toji (ofc). Rough sex. Fingering. Reader is a virgin. Incest on paper (Toji is her step uncle, not related by blood).
Synopsis : in which Toji is alone for Christmas so his brother offers to spend it with him and his family aka Toji gets to fuck his step niece on Christmas night.
Note : here my second post - another old one I wrote five years ago lol. The lace banner is from @uzmacchiato ! English is not my first language.
wc : 2800.
He was a sinner. That was what came to his mind when he saw you that night for Christmas. But he didn't push it away, no. Toji embraced it.
You were the daughter of his brother 's wife, and since his brother was your step-father, Toji had -legally- all the rights to think of you this way, despite him being 36 years old and you only 23.
But you were so oblivious, it was really driving him crazy. The way your eyes always found his and your mouth stretched in a cute smile, did you know what lewd fantasies you were feeding him? Probably not.
But tonight, you drank a bit with your family, and you were tipsy. Toji wasn't better, and as you all went to sleep in your separate rooms -him staying in the guest bedroom- Toji couldn't help but think of you. He wanted to break you so bad, he wanted to taint you. He was sure your moans sounded heavenly, and he had enough of restraining myself.
Sadly for him though, he couldn't fall asleep. Maybe it was due to the excess of alcohol he consumed, maybe it was because his cock was already painfully hard with you on his mind. But Toji decided on going downstairs, having no other choice than drinking cold water, it would surely help him.
The fridge left a small greenish light in the dark kitchen, and as Toji picked the bottle up, he heard some noises coming from the stairs.
"Toji…? I thought everyone was asleep?"
Here you were, in all your glory, your pyjamas on. Toji learned to stop cursing himself from his nasty thoughts, and so, he let his eyes wander on your form, not feeling an ounce of shame by doing so.
"What are you doing here, dove?"
"I couldn't sleep, my head was all fuzzy. My body hurts too. What about you?"
"Same thing pretty." Oh to be the one stealing your virginity. He wanted you so bad, it was sickening.
"Do you want any help with your cramps? I could give you a massage."
Your pureness was plastered on your face as you didn't even notice the innuendo behind Toji's offer. Anyone else would have guessed what he was up to, but you were still virgin and untouched, and Toji knew he would love breaking you.
You accepted his invitation and sat with him on the couch, showing him your back as his big hands settled on your shoulders.
"Hm. You're so fucking tensed. Anything on your mind?"
"I don't- I don't know, maybe." Approaching his mouth to your ear, Toji breathed a few times close to you, loving the way you shivered as his warm breath tickled your nape.
"Tell me." Toji let himself fall into a sort of slumber as you told him about your course and the boring details. Truth was, he just wanted to make you moan his name.
"If you're that stressed, I have the perfect way to make you relax."
You stopped what you were saying as his hands became more daring and fell on your waist.
"Wh-what? But-"
"Do you… trust me?" It was a whisper, and it made you almost gasp. You didn't know what Toji meant by that. You had no idea why he was being so sweet all of a sudden, and you couldn't see his hidden intentions. Because you were too good to realise people were actually perverts. You genuinely thought Toji cared about you, and as you nodded slowly, answering silently his question, you felt his hands joining your front, cupping your breasts over the material of your sweatshirt.
"What are you doing??" As you tried to take his hands off your chest, Toji pressed himself against your back, chuckling in your ear.
"Shh doll. Didn't I tell you I would distract you from your current problems hm?" His mouth found your neck and as his teeth attacked the skin, you widened your eyes, not really comprehending what was happening. It was wrong, you knew it was. But on the other hand, you trusted Toji. He wouldn't take things too far, right?
"Such a good girl for me. Makes me wanna destroy you."
"T-toji… it's wrong and-"
"Relax. Lemme take care of you, yeah? You told me you trusted me. I'm sure no one will be able to help you better than I will."
You started to think he was right. Maybe Toji was right, and maybe he was the most capable of helping you right now. Your head hung low as his hands slipped underneath your shirt and pinched your nipples, making you arch your back, your movements restricted due to his huge body behind you and his arms caging you against him.
Toji was a lot of things, but he wasn't soft. Didn't matter if he was interested in the pussy he was chasing, it didn't matter if the girl was a virgin, he liked it rough.
As he pushed you face first in the pillows of the couch, he lifted your hips up with his big hands, moving them to your ass before slapping it a few times, making you yelp in the pillow, surprised by the aggression.
"Don't want to wake your parents up, right? They would be stunned to see your pretty innocent face getting fucked by someone like me, yeah?"
A whimper escaped your mouth as he laughed darkly, taking your shorts off in a swift motion. He let out a groan seeing your glistening cunt, and it felt too tight in his joggers. Palming himself through the material of his pants as his other hand found your pussy, Toji smirked knowingly. Here you were, under him, pussy visible and ready to get fucked. How many times did he dream of it? How many times did he fuck his fist thinking it was you instead?
Too many times to count.
Now that you were at his mercy, Toji didn't think of letting you go. The process of breaking you wouldn't be an affair of tonight only no, it would last in time.
And as he freed his cock, the big veiny length slapped against his stomach. You turned your head at the same time, and you suddenly felt like leaving. Toji was big. It would be impossible to take him in, and you were scared.
"I don't think we should do that. You're too big and I'm-"
"It will fit. No worries doll." As soon as he finished his words, Toji inserted two thick fingers simultaneously in your tight cunt, making you choke on your breath, your nails digging in the material of the couch.
It was already almost too much for you, but it didn't hurt as much as you think it would. No, it actually felt good. The way he was curling his fingers, his other hand stroking his hard cock, made you see stars. Tears were almost escaping your eyes as you buried your face in the pillow once again, but your hips started moving by themselves, trying to meet his hand halfway. Soon enough however his digits hit your sweet spot and Toji abused it over and over again, only satisfied when you became a squirming mess under him. Eyes glassy, mouth parted and chest moving rapidly due to your erratic breath, you felt exhausted.
Until feeling something way bigger poking at your entrance. Swallowing thickly, you lifted your head up, noticing Toji's eyes already on you.
"My turn now, right?" And as he pushed himself inside you, you found yourself incapable of speaking anymore. A silent scream left your throat as your hands flew to his shoulders now that you were under him, facing him. Tears that didn't want to fall previously finally escaped your eyes but Toji was quick to wipe them away as he thrusted himself deeper inside you.
"God. So fucking tight. So fucking warm and good for daddy huh?"
Oh you looked good like that. Broken and lost. Your eyes lost their focus a while ago but Toji found a steady rhythm, loving the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass.
"Not so talkative anymore eh? Am I that big?"
You cried and cried, too drowned in pleasure. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders bringing him close to you, before whimpering his name in his ear.
"So-good. You're so big." You could already feel your second orgasm approaching as his tip brushed your cervix, and Toji knew it. But he wanted to see you unravel, he wanted to see how pretty you would look all corrupted. Because he finally stole what was the most innocent thing you owned.
Quickening his pace while groaning shamelessly, he brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing it fast. "C'mon on. Cum for me, cum for daddy."
You were losing yourself in the feeling of his fat cock stretching your insides, but the worst was knowing that your step-uncle stole your virginity. It was humiliating yet so thrilling. However, your thoughts got cut short when a particular thrust of his hips hit once again your g-spot, making your legs shake uncontrollably around his huge figure.
"Cummin-" His fingers were shoved deep inside your mouth to muffle your loud screams as Toji fucked you through your orgasm, joining you not too long after and filling you up with his thick cum.
And as you felt ashamed, body naked under him and trying to hide, in a state of strange unconsciousness, you heard him laugh before speaking.
"Merry Christmas, babygirl. Thank you for the gift."
It’s stupid how a single swipe of his tongue makes you crumble and has you arching your back and begging for more. This is the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to be doing: telling him you two are done. But you can't really think about that.
The reason? Gojo’s head right between your thighs.
You hate yourself for giving in to temptation, you really do, and you'd readily berate yourself for doing so if Gojo gave you enough time to dwell on the thought. He’s been at it for hours, swallowing and savoring orgasm after orgasm with delight. He’s about to give you your fourth one, working you like an expert—like he's memorized every single little thing that makes you moan and gasp and break under his touch. Being honest, you can’t bring yourself to care, not when Gojo swirls his tongue around your clit and suckles on it, digging his deft fingers in the plush of your thighs.
“Fuck, Satoru,” you gasp as give a rough tug to a fistful of his hair. He moans against you, moving his mouth with more enthusiasm, making sure you feel every lick, every nip, every suck. He wants his tongue to be the only thing you’re able to think about. “We should stop— shit… This isn’t right.”
He replaces his tongue with his fingers, pushing them past your entrance and rubbing them against that sweet, blissful spot, making you squirm on the bed. Gojo runs the tip of his nose along your inner thigh, practically purring as he places soft, open-mouthed kisses on your skin. He chuckles, because you’ve been saying the exact same thing for hours. And yet...
“I think you’ve said that about three times already,” he murmurs with a cheeky laugh. He doesn’t mean just tonight; you’ve tried to end things for good before, only to come back to him every single time. He knows you don’t mean it—you never do. Never will. “You really should stop saying such silly things, darling… unless you can back them up.” As the words leave his lips, he curls his fingers inside you. It amazes you how he’s able to reach impossibly deep, how good he can make you feel with a single touch. You cry out his name, biting on the back of your hand. Gojo smiles. “But I don’t think you can.”
He gets back to it, latching his mouth onto you and making you feel like you’ve just reached the gates to heaven… or perhaps hell. The room is filled with the squelching sound of his fingers pleasuring you, his small hums of appreciation and quiet praises against your skin. It sounds lewd, sinful. You know neither of you should be doing this, you’re supposed to be broken up, for God’s sake.
“I’m going to drain every last ounce of cum out of you,” he says, and it seems like he means literally, because he doesn’t stop until you’re crying out his name, head digging into the pillow. “That’s it, that’s a good girl,” he groans, lapping at your soaking folds to get everything on his tongue.
“'Toru, please,” you breathe out. It honestly starts as a pleading for him to stop (partly because this is wrong; mostly because it's too much), but another curl of his fingers, another suck on your clit, and instead you end up saying, “I want you.”
Gojo pulls back with a smug smile spread across his lips, taking his fingers into his mouth and sucking on them to lick them clean, savoring the remnants of your orgasm on his digits. He’s addicted to your taste; if you hadn’t said anything, nothing could’ve ever taken him away from between your legs.
“You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he hums, rubbing your thighs with unruly fingers. Despite your pleas, despite knowing he’s sinning with you, he can never seem to feel perturbed. He’s usually too busy fucking you stupid to dwell on the thought—because if Gojo is a sinner, he’s willing to venture into the depths of hell just to spend another second with you.
“Satoru,” you gasp.
The alarms in your head go off blaringly, telling you it’s wrong, wrong, wrong—but fuck, when his hands trail up your body, cupping your breasts and massaging them gently as he rolls your hardened nipples between his fingers? It feels so right.
“My name will be the only word in your vocabulary by the time I'm done fucking you tonight,” he promises against your lips. By the gleam in his eyes, you know he means every single word he just uttered.
His hands are agile as they roam your body, lips warm and reverent as he leaves a trail of velvety kisses along your neck, pausing only to give you a hickey or two. He wants everyone to know who you actually belong to, who has you screaming his name almost every night. Gojo Satoru.
He goes slow, he wants you to remember every second of this moment; every touch, every kiss, every caress. Because maybe, just maybe if he makes you forget about your break up, you’ll finally realize you're better off together than apart. He’s sure he’ll convince you eventually; he's charming like that.
Gojo’s lips are soft against your skin, his tongue leaves wet patches on whichever part of you it visits. He ruts his hips against yours, moaning against the crook of your neck as he makes sure to coat his cock with your slick. You’ve come so much, everything is so wet that it’s no difficult task to accomplish. He’s so hard it’s almost painful, but he can’t help it—you just drive him insane.
Gojo takes himself in his hand, guiding his cock to align the tip with your entrance. He braces himself, clenching his jaw tightly when he pushes himself in, spreading your plush walls, making you scratch his back with a loud gasp. He groans in a feral way and pauses for a second to regain his composure once he bottoms out, the only thought in his head being that fuck, your pussy always feels so good around him, like a glove fit a hand. Like it was made to be his.
“Please move,” you whimper. You feel so full, yet his stillness does nothing to evaporate the heat in the pit of your stomach. Quite the opposite, really. “Satoru.”
The way you whimper his name makes his cock twitch inside you, and he pulls out almost completely, only the tip of his cock remaining in. Your jaw drops open with a strangled moan when he rolls his hips against yours, pushing his cock back in inch by inch.
He starts slow, you feel the drag of his cock inside you like it’s heaven sent. Your eyes screw shut, and you arch your back as you claw at his skin. Gojo doesn’t seem to give a damn, focusing on leaving open mouthed kisses on your cleavage. His balls smack against your ass with each hard thrust, and his eyes darken with lust when he looks down at you. You look ethereal, skin glistening with sweat, swollen lips, and god, that fucked out look on your face. He wishes he could take a picture to keep it in his wallet just so he could appreciate the moment every day.
Gojo pushes your legs up until your knees are against your chest, pounding into you relentlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, meeting his lips in a sloppy kiss. You can still taste yourself on his lips, especially when he forces his tongue in. He only slows his thrusts down to more of a love-making kind of pace so he can kiss you more deeply, and tears prickle in the corners of your eyes.
He breaks the kiss after a moment, digging his fingers into your lower back to push your hips up.
“Look at you, taking my cock so well,” he says, struggling to keep his voice steady. The snap of his hips against yours is so loud you’re sure the neighbors next door can hear it, but does it really matter when he’s already made you scream so much your voice is so hoarse you probably won’t be able to talk tomorrow? Gojo’s hips stutter when you clench around him, almost coming right then and there. “Fuck, you like it when I tell you what a good girl you’re being, don’t you? You like hearing how good your pussy’s making me feel?”
He lowers one of his hand to rub on your clit, drawing tight circles over the bundle of nerves.
“Satoru I can’t— s’too— I can’t—” the feeling of his cock and his fingers is overwhelming, you can’t form a single coherent sentence, can’t think straight as tears of overstimulation dampen your cheeks.
“Aw, don’t cry, darling,” he coos, kissing your tears away. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when his digits speed up.
“I can’t,” you sob, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.
“Sure you can. I know you have one more in you,” he whispers against your cheeks, hissing when you give a chocked out cry of his name and come undone one more time, your walls spasming and clamping down on him as you reach your climax. “See? Told you you could give me one more,” he purrs, brushing his nose along your neck. “You always look so pretty when you come for me.”
Your body shakes with the aftershocks of your orgasm, growing weak as you sag back into bed; letting him use you as he pleases as he chases his own climax. It doesn’t take too long, what with the way your walls flutter around him and squeeze him so good, hot spurts of his thick cum shoot deep into you as he tenses up above you with a low groan of your name.
Gojo drops his entire weight on top of you, breathing heavily against your shoulder. He catches his breath for a moment, pulling out when he’s able to take a full breath and sighing when his softening cock slides out of you. His eyes are fixed on your pussy, hypnotized by the way his cum drips out of you, and he pushes it back inside you without a second thought. You whimper softly, shying away from him, sure that a single touch would break you.
“You always take me so well,” he whispers, running his thumb along your jawline in a tender caress. “So beautiful.”
You don’t say a word, already dozing off in his arms. It’s always too much with him, yet never enough. If it was, you wouldn’t be in his bed right now, sleeping soundly as he watches you for a couple minutes. He refuses to fall asleep, swearing you’ll disappear if he does.
And he’s right. You’re gone when he wakes up the next morning, your side of the bed already cold, like it’s been a while since you left. But it’s okay.
He’ll just wait patiently until the next time you come knocking on his door.
𝜗𝜚 you and gojo were taking things slow— kisses, teasing, nothing serious. until he “accidentally” ends up inside you . . .
you’d made him wait.
not because you didn’t want him. god no. it was honestly the opposite. the idea of getting railed into the mattress by gojo satoru had lived rent free in your brain from the moment you met him— when he smiled a little too wide at you and made the kind of eye contact that felt illegal. when he started texting you with a ridiculous number of emojis and slept on facetime with you like a teenage girl. when he came to pick you up in the middle of the night after you had a breakdown and didn’t say anything, just held your hand and let you cry. that’s when you knew you’d be down bad. and you were. horribly, stupidly, painfully down bad for this man.
but also…he was gojo satoru. six-foot-whatever, model-face, trust fund baby, basically allergic to shutting up. he flirted with everyone, kissed your forehead like it was casual, and wore those stupid gray sweats with no underwear. he had “i’ve definitely had sex with someone and forgotten their name afterward” energy. you didn’t trust that shit for a second. and when you finally started dating him, you were firm about it, you wanted to take things slow.
“slow, got it,” he’d said, grinning. “like, hand-holding slow? eye contact slow? staring into each other’s souls while we breathe heavily in bed slow?”
you rolled your eyes, obviously.
but he respected it. genuinely. didn’t even try to push. you kissed, you touched a little, he even let you hump his thigh that one time after a movie when you were feeling needy— but never anything more. even when he was rock hard. or when his voice went hoarse whispering how good you felt. he always stopped before it went too far.
which is why you were surprised to find yourself on your back, legs spread, gojo kneeling between them and soaking his fingers in your slick with this dumb, puppy-eyed grin on his face, completely at odds with the way he was about to ruin you.
“mm, y’sure about this?” he asks, because he always asks. his fingers glide along your folds, featherlight. “you don’t gotta, baby. we can just cuddle after this. i like your boobs more than your pussy anyway.”
you snort. “shut up. i want to.”
he grins like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard.
“okay, okay,” he says, dramatic. “we’ll still take it slow, though. like, real slow. so slow i’m basically celibate. monk behavior. just some grinding. maybe a lil bit of tip action—”
you glare. “satoru.”
“—strictly medical. not horny. tip only. very wholesome.”
“satoru.”
he leans down and kisses you, lips warm and sweet, his stupid grin pressed against your mouth.
“i’m serious,” he mumbles, rubbing his bare cock against your soaked folds like he’s not being serious at all. “just the tip, i promise.”
and it sounds like a joke. he sounds like a joke. hovering over you, all flushed and breathless, dick glistening from where it’s been sliding against you for the past five minutes, the head catching on your clit and making you jolt. he knows what he’s doing. keeps brushing against your entrance like a tease. wanting to see how far he can push before you stop him.
and maybe that’s why you don’t stop him.
maybe that’s why you wrap your arms around his neck, thighs pulling him closer, the thick head of his cock slipping just barely inside, until it’s too late.
your breaths catch in unison, the room suddenly too quiet, the heat of him inside you making it very, very clear you’ve crossed a line you can’t uncross.
“…did you just—”
“i didn’t mean to!!”
“‘toru.”
“i swear to god, baby, it slipped in on its own. she’s greedy.”
you whine and slap his shoulder. “you’re greedy!”
he bites his lip, hips twitching like he wants to move. “okay but like…we’ve already started. it’d be rude to stop now.”
“you said ‘just the tip’!”
“this is the tip. it’s just a very fat, ambitious tip.”
you narrow your eyes.
he gives you the softest look. too soft. unfairly soft. as if he’s not currently halfway inside you and lying through his teeth.
“baby,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, then your nose, then the corner of your mouth, “you feel so warm. so wet. it’d be a crime to pull out right now. jail time. prison. orange jumpsuit.”
“i hate you.”
“no you don’t,” he whispers, and then he pushes in the rest of the way.
you gasp. your nails dig into his back, legs tightening around him as the rest of his cock stretches you open, thick and hot and so deep you swear you see stars.
he moans all breathy and wrecked in your ear, “oh fuck, oh my god, you’re- fuck, you’re squeezing me so good, i think i’m gonna cry—”
and suddenly all that “taking it slow” shit is out the window.
his hips are already moving, slow at first, grinding into you like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your insides. he kisses your jaw, your neck, buries his face in your shoulder and groans everytime your walls flutter around him.
“you’re so fucking tight,” he mumbles, voice rough. “feels like you missed me- like you wanted me to slip in.”
“satoru—”
“shh, shh, i got you. i’ll take care of you. just wanna feel you, baby, please—”
and he does. he feels everything. watches your face twist with every stroke, your body arching, mouth falling open into a breathless cry when he hits something deep. your pussy’s drooling around him, mess dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets, and he’s losing it. thrusting harder. faster.
“i knew you’d feel like this,” he pants, snapping his hips, the sound of skin-on-skin slapping, echoing in thr room. “knew you’d take me so good. fuck, you’re perfect, so perfect, so fucking perfect—”
your legs are trembling, moans high and needy, nails dragging down his back as you gasp his name over and over again.
and he just keeps going.
“you close, baby?” he breathes, hips stuttering as he grinds into your sweet spot. “gonna cum for me? fuck, please, i wanna feel it- wanna feel you cum on my cock—”
you nod, desperate, eyes rolling back as the knot in your belly snaps and you clench around him with a broken cry.
he follows a second later.
“fuck- fuckfuckfuck—” he gasps, hips jerking as he unloads deep inside you, thick and scalding, body convulsing before he collapses on top of you.
there’s a long pause.
your chest is heaving, his is too, both of you still breathless, trembling from the high that hasn’t quite faded. the room is quiet except for the sound of your panting and the faint hum of whatever playlist had long since been forgotten. your limbs are tangled under the sheets, sweat cooling against your skin, and his cum is already leaking out of you— warm and messy, dripping down your thighs in slow, lazy rivulets that make you twitch from overstimulation.
gojo’s still inside you, just barely, like he’s reluctant to pull out. and maybe he is. maybe he likes how it feels. how warm you still are, how soft your skin is when his hand absentmindedly traces circles against your thigh, how your fingers are still curled weakly around his wrist like you don’t want to let go yet.
then— he breaks the silence.
“…sooo,” he says, casual as ever, as if he didn’t just bust the prettiest nut of his life, “wanna go again?”
you don’t even answer at first. just elbow him, hard, right in the ribs.
he wheezes, half-laughing, half-winded, crumpling beside you like you actually did some real damage. “rude,” he mumbles, coughing dramatically.
you roll your eyes, lean in, and kiss him anyway. soft and slow, like you weren’t just calling him an idiot thirty seconds ago. his lips are still swollen from how much he’d kissed you earlier, a little damp from sweat, but they fit against yours like muscle memory. like home.
and despite everything— your sore legs, your ruined sheets, his smug little smirk— your heart still flutters.
because he’s yours. and you already know he’s not pulling out for the rest of the night.
idek if i like this tbh, i js wanted to post smth .-. but hopefully this isn’t too bad shhdhshs
when satoru tells you you’re his first, he’s already balls deep inside you.
he hasn’t even moved yet, cock still settling into the foreign warmth of your walls. but he’s in deep. the swollen, blunt head kissing your cervix like he’s determined to mold your pussy to the shape of his cock. and the admission is so sudden, so unexpected that you almost don’t believe it—because he still has the cocky grin of a man who’s never been told ‘no’ before.
“hahh,” you gasp when he moves, as if just to test, “you’re serious?”
and he has his eyes sealed shut, almost as if in pain as you clench around his hardened length, “dead serious,” he breathes, a little blush creeping on his ears, “don’t get used to it.”
then he moves, slow and teasing, testing. hips pistoning forward with a gradual rhythm, and he goes all the way in each time, every push of his cock into your cervix feels like a maddening attempt at trying to rearrange your guts, “f-fuck—so tight, baby, feels so good. ”
you’re halfway into forming a coherent thought when he dips into your breasts, mouthing sloppily at the nipples like he’s not even trying to indulge in the motion of his cock fucking you dumb right now, like it’s all so effortless for him.
your responses only come in the form of sharp inhales and messy attempts at moaning his name, each time voice breaking into something unintelligible. he totally just lied to you. there’s no way this dick is inexperienced.
he’s much of a mess himself, not loud with talking but with groaning and whimpering, “nngh—baby, you’re squeezin’ the life out of me—hah,” a searing heat follows every time and goes straight to your core, molten ache of pleasure closer and closer to erupting as satoru picks up the speed.
but then he comes before you, a painful sharp inhale, followed by several deep breaths, his whole body shuddering with explosive pleasure. when he finally pulls out, you see the swell of hot tears collecting on his eyelashes.
“uhm, toru?” you hum, “are you—”
satoru plops his head on your stomach, snow strands hiding his face perfectly. he’s still breathing hard, catching his breath, and you swear the whimpers that escape him are not entirely from pleasure.
“you cryin?” you ask, tugging at his hair lightly. he doesn’t really do much to respond. just buries his face deeper.
a few seconds is enough time for him to relax, and he’s only lifting his head up to look at you now, chin still resting on your bellybutton, “fuck, didn’t think you’d feel so good.”
“you really are a virgin,” you tease, and he takes it personally.
in seconds he’s back up, throwing your legs over his shoulder with little effort, “wan’ more baby, wanna taste you now, wanna make you cum.”
and satoru gojo loves to prove how good he is at everything.
𝜗𝜚 you invited over the soft-spoken, nerdy guy from your comp sci class. you didn’t expect him to be so into you. or so good in bed . . .
he’s weird.
you don’t mean it in a cruel way— at least not at first. it’s more like an observation, one you’ve been quietly collecting over the semester, watching him from across the lecture hall as he shows up five minutes late every tuesday with his crooked glasses, wrinkled hoodie, and tangled white hair that always looks like he just rolled out of bed.
he’s always alone. not because he’s invisible or anything, he’s just somehow always on the outside looking in. he’s there, physically, but barely interacts with anyone. professors call on him and he stutters. girls say hi and he practically combusts. he once dropped his entire water bottle when shoko asked him for the time.
he mumbles. fiddles with his fingers. can’t make eye contact for longer than three seconds. and god, the way he walks, it’s like he’s trying not to take up space.
you should feel nothing for him. he’s just another quiet dude in a sea full of college weirdos.
and yet.
you do feel something. not attraction, per se. it’s more so out of pure curiosity. maybe pity. he’s just so painfully awkward, so soft-spoken and squirmy and red in the face everytime you so much as glance in his direction, that it tugs something warm and weird in your chest.
and then you sit next to him one day.
“hey,” you say casually, claiming your spot in the empty seat. “you always sit alone?”
he flinches like you’ve slapped him.
“oh. uh. um. y-yeah. kinda. i mean. it’s not like- i don’t mind! i just, uh, don’t talk a lot. i mean, i can talk- if you want- i’m not like- fuck, sorry..”
you blink. “i just asked a question.”
he physically shrinks. “…right. sorry.”
god, he’s kind of cute..
+
you talk to him again. and again. and again.
he’s always so nervous. so twitchy. he blushes when you compliment his shirt. nearly dies when you ask if he’s dating anyone. says something about “not really being good with girls” and immediately changes the subject from embarrassment. even drops his pencil once when you casually lean forward and your chest brushes his arm.
it’s honestly kind of… adorable. pathetic, but nonetheless adorable.
you start bringing him coffee. give him your number. tease him about never replying fast. he sends you the most painfully awkward texts known to man. barely uses punctuation and always starts messages with “um.”
he’s impossible. endearing, though.
and when you invite him over under the guise of “studying,” he genuinely looks like he’s about to faint, that’s when you decide to really test the waters.
you sit a little closer, letting your knee touch his. your hand lingers when you pass him a pen and he looks like he might cry. at one point, you jokingly stretch and your shirt lifts just enough to flash the waistband of your panties, and gojo makes a strangled sound and covers his face.
“you good?” you ask, smirking.
“n-no. i mean- yeah. i just. um. i’ve never really.. y’know…”
you tilt your head, feigning innocence. “never really what?”
he turns bright red. like full-blown, skin-on-fire, tomato-face red. then whispers, barely audible—
“i’ve never done…anything like this before.”
your eyebrows lift. “anything?”
he nods once. stiffly. “i’m, uh, a virgin.”
you swear you feel your brain short-circuit.
gojo satoru. tall. annoyingly pretty under the right lighting. absolute mess of a human being. a virgin.
and he’s the one sitting on your bed.
huh.
you don’t know what compels you, but you lean in and whisper, “want me to help with that?”
he stares at you. wide-eyed. mouth parted. so stunned he doesn’t even respond for a full ten seconds. and then he finally nods. slowly. like he can’t believe this is actually happening.
+
you start off gentle. kind of sweet, honestly. he’s stiff at first. tentative. your fingers trail under his shirt and he flinches, clearly not used to being touched like this. when you close the distance to kiss him, he moans into it, needy, mouth a little clumsy, almost surprised by the feeling.
you push him onto his back, straddling his lap. whisper, “you can touch me, y’know.”
he nods again. shaky hands brushing your waist as if he’s afraid to break you.
it’s cute. he’s cute.
so you take the lead.
your lips drag over the rim of his jaw, teeth grazing his throat until he’s gasping softly, hands still hesitating where to put them. you have to grab them yourself and guide them to your hips. a little whimper escapes him when you press your chest against him, rolling your hips slowly. there’s already a thick bulge in his sweats. you smile against his skin.
you grind on him through his sweats. lazy at first, just letting the friction build as he clutches at your sides and breathes all choked and ragged. your lips trace the edge of his ear, and he shudders.
“s-sensitive,” he mumbles, voice cracking.
you let your fingers slip under the hem of his hoodie, dragging your freshly manicured nails lightly up his stomach. he twitches. bucks a little under you.
your mouth trails lower, tugging his sweats down with firm but patient hands. he lifts his hips clumsily to help you. the second you wrap your hand around him, he lets out a pitiful moan.
and when you finally pull his sweats down, his cock slaps up against his stomach and you blink because— holy shit, okay— he’s biiiiggg.
“you sure you’re a virgin?” you murmur, smirking.
he covers his face. “is…is that bad?”
“no, baby. it’s cute.”
you lean down and spit on your hand, watching his hips twitch. his eyes are wide, lips parted, panting like just this is enough stimulation to ruin him. you stroke him slow, firm, and he moans again— loud and unfiltered.
you ride him. not hard at first, just easing him in, letting him feel every inch. he’s loud. too damn loud. he can’t stop saying your name. moans like he wants the whole dorm complex to hear. says shit like, “oh my god, i-i didn’t know it felt this good,” and “you’re so warm, fuck,” and “am i doing okay?”
and you? you eat it up.
you talk him through it. tell him how good he feels. how big he is. how you’re gonna ruin him. it turns you on more than you expected. he sounds way too needy and overwhelmed. it makes you feel powerful.
you pick up the pace. start bouncing harder, letting his cock drag over every sweet spot inside you. his hands grip your thighs now, tighter than before. he’s trying to hold on but he’s clearly losing it—his head tips back, neck flushed red, chest heaving. everytime you clench around him, he cries out, louder than the last.
“you’re so deep, baby,” you coo, breathless. “feel that? right there?”
he nods vehemently, trying to form words but failing. instead, he lets out a desperate moan, hips twitching up to meet you.
he grips your hips as anchorage, buries his face in your neck. begs you to let him cum. you tell him to wait and ride him faster. and when he finally finishes, spilling deep inside you, he looks like he’s about to pass out.
you press a kiss to his cheek. “you did so good, baby.”
he smiles weakly. looking soft as ever in his flushed, breathless state.
you cuddle after. he wraps his arms around you like a teddy bear. mumbles something about “never forgetting this” and “you’re the nicest person i’ve ever met” and falls asleep with his face buried in your chest.
you fall asleep thinking maybe you did a good thing. maybe you gave the poor guy his first good memory. his first time. maybe it’s special.
you don’t see him again after that.
not until a week later.
you’re sitting outside the café near campus, half-reading an article and sipping your overpriced drink, when you hear it.
a loud, obnoxious voice.
“brooo, i’m telling you, that shit was crazy. had me moaning like a pornstar. she even said i was big, can you believe that?!”
you blink.
you know that voice.
you recognize that voice.
you turn.
and there he is.
gojo satoru. laughing with two other guys. standing with his hoodie off, hair styled, shirt fitted, a complete 180 from the twitchy, anxious wreck you thought you knew.
his phone buzzes. he glances down and smirks.
“yo, geto,” he says, showing his screen. “just got ‘devirginized’ again. god bless gullible pussy.”
the guy next to him cackles. “ain’t no way she bought that act.”
“they always buy it,” gojo says. cocky, amused, absolutely shameless. “she even kissed my forehead after. said i was her ‘sweet boy.’ i can’t keep getting away with this.”
you stare.
mouth dry. stomach sinking. rage bubbling like acid in your chest.
and as he turns his back, laughing, disappearing into the crowd with that same fake smile, you finally realize—
you weren’t his first.
just the next one who believed him.
wow a fic that isn’t ab toji ??? crazy. insane. absurd. but i wanted to hop on the nerdjo train so badly swfsfs hope y’all fw this one !
𝜗𝜚 maybe giving your hot best friend boner meds wasn’t very smart . . .
you thought you were doing him a favor.
“i’m just saying,” he’d slurred a few nights ago, drunk off three beers and half a shot, head in your lap as he whined about his “tragic dick situation.”
you were scrolling on your phone, half-listening, idly scratching your nails through his hair like you always did when he gets drunk and clingy. “what tragic dick situation?” you asked, barely looking up.
“i think i’m broken, dude.”
your thumb paused over the screen. “…what?”
“no for real,” he groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face like he couldn’t bear to speak the words out loud. “couldn’t even get it up the other night. she was hot, too.”
you blinked. “maybe you were nervous?”
he groaned louder. “no. it was limp. like a noodle. a sad, floppy—”
“please shut up.”
“it’s dead, y/n,” he mumbled, with the conviction of a man who just lost everything in the divorce. “i have a ghost dick.”
you had to shove him off your lap for that one, laughing too hard to even be gentle about it. he rolled onto the floor and just lay there, dramatically sprawled, staring at the ceiling with the emptiest expression known to man. you thought it was a joke. something stupid he’d say while drunk and overly theatrical. but later that night, when you’re in bed staring off into space, his words kept replaying in your head.
a ghost dick. a broken dick. gojo satoru… flaccid?
you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
not that you cared about his random hookup or worried for his ego. but because, objectively, there was absolutely no reason for a man like him to ever be soft unless he wanted to be. 6’3, gorgeous, cocky as hell. dumb pretty eyes and long fingers and abs for days. he once moaned in your ear during a horror movie when you jumped and accidentally sat on his lap— said it was your fault. another time he leaned over you to grab the remote and whispered “do i make you nervous?” because your breath hitched. and don’t even get started on the way he’d sometimes walk around your apartment like it was his, half-naked in those cursed grey sweatpants, scratching his toned stomach and yawning like he wasn’t already the center of your personal hell.
so yeah. it wasn’t fair. the universe couldn’t just throw a man like that into your life and then also curse him with a broken dick. it didn’t make sense. it bothered you.
and because your brain was absolutely not wired correctly, you decided to take matters into your own hands.
three— maybe four— little blue pills. the bottle said one, sure, but you wanted to be certain it would take effect. crushed, mixed, stirred into his gatorade before he got there for your usual saturday night hang. he drank it without a second thought, sitting on your couch with one leg folded under him, sipping like he always did while complaining about how hard it is being this hot and pretending not to watch you stretch across the floor in your tiny shorts.
you weren’t even planning on doing anything. not really. you just wanted to see if it worked. wanted proof that his dick still functioned, for scientific purposes or whatever. just a little experiment. harmless!
you did not expect to spend the next hour getting absolutely annihilated.
+
“what the fuck did you give me,” he pants, white strands sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down his temples, dick still hard, still buried balls deep inside your swollen, aching pussy.
your whole body’s trembling. thighs twitching, arms weak, lungs barely catching breath between sobs. you’ve already cum— twice? no, three times. maybe four. you’re not even keeping track anymore. everything’s sticky, slick, drenched in sweat and spit and the mess between your legs, and your voice comes out wrecked when you finally manage to breathe:
“just… a lil viagra…”
he blinks, once. then laughs— sharp and breathless and slightly unhinged as he grips your hips again, fingertips digging so hard you know you’re gonna bruise. “a little?” he echoes, cock pulsing inside you. “baby, this isn’t a little. this is the fuckin’ olympics.”
you barely get chance to protest before he starts moving again, hips snapping up, driving into you with utmost force like he’s trying to touch your fucking lungs. you squeal, legs kicking uselessly, eyes rolling back as the stretch hits again— painful, dizzying, toe-curling. it doesn’t even feel like you’ve had a break. every inch of your cunt’s raw and sore and he’s still fucking you like he just started. you swear he’s gotten harder. thicker. the first time he pushed in you genuinely thought he was going to break you, and now, it’s just worse. it’s been hell. delicious, addicting, horrifying hell.
“you wanted to help?” he grits out, slamming up again, his voice low and mean, sharp enough to slice through the moan that slips out of you. the squelch from between your legs is embarrassing in volume and way too revealing. “wanted to fix me?”
“yes- i’m sorry, fuck, ‘toru, you’re so big- i didn’t know—!”
“nah,” he spits, pulling out just to ram himself back in all at once, making your entire body spasm. your mouth falls open in a silent cry, tears leaking down your cheeks as your pussy clenches around him, begging for mercy. “don’t apologize now. you did this. you wanted to see if my dick still worked?” he thrusts again, even deeper. “here you fuckin’ go.”
his pace is brutal. relentless. his stamina? inhuman. everytime you try to crawl away, squirm, or twist your hips and breathe, he clasps your thighs and drags you right back down onto him, using your body as his own personal toy. your cunt’s soaked, slippery, stretched out beyond imagination from the constant pressure and the punishing way he keeps fucking into you like he can’t stop— like the drug is pumping through his veins and turning him into a machine. his cock glides in and out with wet, messy sounds, the fat tip dragging across your abused walls, kissing your cervix with every stroke.
“gonna write a report on it?” he huffs against your neck, biting your shoulder hard enough to make you jolt. “‘viagra results: gojo satoru fucks like a demon.’ put that shit in a thesis.”
“shut up—!” you cry, slapping weakly at his arm, but it’s no use. your moans betray you anyway— breathy, high-pitched, stupid. your body’s giving up, your pussy’s giving in, clenching so tight around him it’s like your brain’s trying to melt out of your ears.
“make me,” he snarls, thrusting harder, faster, he’s so deep your vision goes white for a second.
you try. you really do. but he’s fucking you so hard now you can barely think, let alone speak. every word dies on your tongue, strangled by the way your breath stutters, whimpers tumbling out of your mouth like sobs. your moans get slurred, choked, punched out of you with every thrust. your eyes roll back and still, he doesn’t stop.
“fuck, listen to you,” he pants, staring down at the way your tits bounce wildly with every roll of his hips. “actin’ like a lil sex doll. my dumb, pretty fucktoy.” he leans closer, tongue dragging across the rim of your jaw. “you wanted me hard? wanted me desperate? look at what you did to me.”
you nod dumbly, overwhelmed to the point you could hardly remember your own name. the moment those words leave his mouth, your pussy squeezes like it’s trying to trap him in. he groans, deep and ragged, cock twitching violently inside you.
“toru, i can’t, i can’t anymore—” you sob, voice cracking completely.
“yes you can,” he growls, “you will. i’m not done testing.”
and then he flips you over, quick and brutal, your face shoved into the sheets before you even have time to react. you shriek when he yanks your hips up and slams back inside, no warning, no mercy, the angle curves his cock right into your g-spot with maddening precision. you scream into the pillow. scream again when he grabs your hair and pulls, arching your back for him, his hips pistoning into your ass with a sound so loud it’s practically pornographic.
you don’t even try to crawl anymore. it’s pointless. your body’s done. broken in. you just lay there and take it, crying into the sheets while he wrecks you from behind, drilling into you over and over and over. as one of his hands fists your hair, the other’s slapping your ass so hard it burns, the sting blooming across your skin in waves.
“so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, jaw clenched. “so wet. so mine. god, look at you. takin’ this monster cock like you were made for it.”
you can’t stop clenching. can’t stop cumming. he fucks you through another orgasm, and another, until your thighs seize up and your brain’s nothing but static. your drool seeps into the pillow. your moans have dissolved into nothing but mindless gasps and cracked cries. you’re babbling nonsense, stuttering, barely conscious.
and the most terrifying part?
he still isn’t done.
+
you wake up the next morning with your legs completely numb and gojo snuggled up beside you, soft snores puffing against your neck, his heavy arm draped across your waist like dead weight. your entire body aches. your thighs are sticky. your hips feel as if they’ve been dislocated. you try to move— just a little— and immediately regret it. your knees wobble at the mere thought of standing. your pussy’s still twitching, your sheets are ruined, and he’s still somehow half-hard against your ass.
you groan softly. try to sit up. fail instantly.
gojo stirs beside you, yawns into your skin, then peels himself away with a pitiful grunt. he blinks around the room like he has no idea where he is, squints down at his still-throbbing erection and mutters something about “fuckin’ viagra from hell” under his breath. then he limps off to the bathroom, still naked, cupping his dick like he’s protecting it from a sniper.
you’re barely awake when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. the screen lights up with a notification.
gojo (dumbass 🫶):
bro
this thing still won’t go down
can’t even piss
help 😭
idky i made this gng… i guess the thought of gojo having erectile dysfunction makes me giggle so
Oikawa groans uncomfortably, squirming in his sleep. When he wakes up, he isn’t surprised to see the tent in his boxers. He lets out a sigh as he rests his arm over his eyes for a moment before looking over to his right, biting his lip when his eyes find you sleeping peacefully beside him.
You’re only wearing a crop top and panties, and he can’t help himself. He’s glad you two had spoken about it a while ago—waking each other up with sex. It really wasn’t uncommon for Oikawa to wake up with erections, and he’s just come back from a long trip. It’s been a while since he last was inside you; he needs it. His fist wouldn’t be enough this time.
He tells himself he’ll just use your thighs a little; he’ll be gentle. Maybe if he’s careful enough you won’t wake up. Or perhaps he should wake you up, show you what dreaming about you had provoked and maybe beg a little for your help. He knows you like it when he begs.
He gets rid of his boxers, hand gliding up and down his cock to smear his pre-cum along the shaft, pumping slowly, eyes glued to your sleeping form. He almost feels guilty for what he’s about to do. Almost.
His grip tightens around his cock, pumping a little faster, a little tighter, and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning. But he wants more. He lets go of his cock, turning to his side and positioning himself behind you, pulling you closer until your back is resting against his chest. He freezes when you let out a soft sigh and breathes out in relief when you don’t wake up.
Tōru takes himself in his hand, pressing his tip between your thighs and pushing his hips forward with a light thrust, moaning softly when his cock easily slides between your legs. He goes slow, he’s gentle, but there’s only so much a person can sleep through.
He has barely given a couple thrusts when you mumble something in your sleep, although he doesn’t hear you what with how focused he is on pleasuring himself. His pace falters, struggling to go slow, to hold back his moans and grunts.
“Tōru…” you moan softly, squirming in your dazed state. The head of his cock brushes your clit with each thrust, and it makes your lips part open.
“Fuck,” he murmurs when you squeeze your thighs together, the pressure almost making him burst right then and there—he almost does when he has a mental image of your thighs covered in his seed.
Tōru halts his movements, his hand snaking around your front to brush a single finger over your underwear. Just as he had suspected, there’s a wet patch right there. You wouldn’t mind if he helped you with it, would you?
So he hugs you closer and uses his hand to rub you over your panties as his hips keep thrusting forward between your legs. He then pushes two fingers past the elastic of your underwear, cursing under his breath when he feels how wet you are against his digits, then teases your entrance with the tips of his fingers before pushing them inside you, feeling them being swallowed immediately.
And then your eyes flutter open.
“T-Tōru…? What are you—?” you ask, interrupting yourself with your own loud moan.
“Shit… sorry, baby. You just looked so fucking pretty, I couldn’t hold back.”
You squirm against him, sighing his name softly. Your voice is groggy with sleep, and it turns him on even more. Tōru uses his free hand to fondle your breasts, tweaking your nipples with his fingers. You moan, squeezing your thighs wet with his pre-cum.
Your hand moves behind you, taking Oikawa’s cock firmly and pumping his length, applying the right amount of pressure. He moans your name, whining against your shoulder as you stroke him, and you gasp when he scissors his fingers inside you, curling them afterwards. It’s safe to say you’re wide awake now.
“Baby... I need you,” he pleads with a whine.
Once you nod, there’s no going back.
Oikawa instantly tugs your panties down, unable to wait a moment longer. He spreads your legs open, holding one of them up to align himself with your entrance and push in, groaning loudly when his cock spreads your walls open. You cry out his name, clenching the sheets into your fist tightly. He curses softly, hips rutting against you at the perfect pace.
“God, you’re always so tight… feels so fucking good.”
“More,” you whine, your pussy clenching tightly enough to render him insane.
He hisses at the feeling, picking up the pace. The wet noises of your bodies colliding against each other fill the dimly lit room—the sun’s just coming out, and it makes everything seem so much more intimate. Oikawa feels like he’s in heaven, and how could he not, with his cock buried deep inside you?
So if you wanted more, he’d give it to you.
Oikawa holds onto your waist with firm hands, turning over so he’s lying on his back and pulling you along with him so you’re resting on his chest. You let out a surprised squeal, which turns into a dragged out moan when he thrusts his hips upwards, fucking up into you.
Your hand shoots down to clutch his arm, head resting against his shoulder. You’re a babbling mess, moaning his name; among other things. He fucking loves it.
Oikawa moans in your ear. One of his hands goes up to wrap around your throat while the other moves down to rub your neglected clit. You cry out, clenching your fingers around his arm, his hips never relenting. He growls loudly, cursing repeatedly as he feels your sweet cunt clenching tighter and tighter.
“Fuck. I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he breathes out, spreading your legs open with his knees. He applies more pressure with both hands, making your vision blurry and your clit throb with pleasure. Your mouth hangs open, unable to even make a noise with how good he’s making you feel. “I want to fill you up,” he grunts, the lewd noises becoming louder as he fastens the pace. “Wanna fuck a baby into you.“
“Cum inside me,” you practically implore him, moaning loudly on top of him. “I want you to fill me up with your cum— fuck, you’re so big— Tōru!”
His moans become louder, his fingers rub faster, and his cock is so hard and swollen inside you. You scream his name, squirting against his hand and making everything sound much more lewd, wetter. There really isn’t any other option when Tōru Oikawa is balls deep inside you.
He cums almost at the same time, whining against your damp skin as he shoots his load inside you, not wanting to pull out just yet. He keeps thrusting slowly until your pussy has milked his cock completely, panting heavily beneath you. You raise your hand behind you to brush his hair with your fingers, making him hum happily.
“Morning, Tōru,” you breathe out, making him chuckle against your skin.
He presses a soft skin on your shoulder, kissing your cheek afterwards as his arms wrap tighter around your waist.
“Mornin', sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Sorry, I just woke up with the biggest hard-on… and I missed you.”
“Don’t be sorry.” You smile, turning your head to nuzzle your nose against his cheek. You stay that way for a moment, a comfortable silence filling the room. When you speak again, your voice is soft. “Are you okay with just one round?” you ask.
Oikawa cocks an eyebrow, craning his neck to look at you.
“Are you?” he asks back, amused. His smile widens when you shake your head. You hate it when he leaves, and you always miss him just as much, if not more.
“Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me?” you murmur against his lips.
You turn to the side and your eyes meet with Bokuto's still sleeping form. With a content sigh; one of those one can only give when everything in the world seems and feels right, you stand up slowly, trying your best not to disturb him. He stirs in his slumber as you walk away, which manages to make you pause for a second, not moving util he stills again. You keep walking until you’re outside the room and decide to make yourself a cup of warm tea and sit on the sofa in front of the living room’s window.
Everything’s quiet for a moment, and you find yourself leaning back into the comfortable armchair and letting out yet another pleased sigh.
As you’re watching the street down below, it isn't too long before you hear the soft sound of muffled padding behind you.
Bokuto flops down right beside you, even though you two don’t quite fit together in the small seat. He nestles his head against the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around you, careful not to hit the mug by accident. And then he sighs contentedly—exactly the way you did, humming softly against your skin.
“What are you doing? I thought you were tired?” you whisper with a chuckle, struggling to wrap an arm around his bulky figure.
He lifts his head a little to look at you with droopy eyes and smiles tiredly.
“I woke up and you were gone,” he murmurs and snuggles even closer.
His answer makes you laugh, a bit louder this time. He pouts, blowing a raspberry as he looks away.
“Bo, you know I’m not going anywhere. I just felt like having a cup of tea. It’s chilly today.”
“Yeah, but you left… and I’m pretty sure I’m plenty warm.” As to prove his point, Bokuto squeezes you in his arms, making you squeal with humor. You spill a little bit of your tea.
“Okay, okay, fine,” you say, placing your cup aside and turning to hug him back. Bokuto smiles as you stroke his hair softly, both of you speaking in hushed voices for the rest of the morning, simply enjoying each other’s company.
The first thing you hear when you walk into your shared apartment is the muffled voice of your boyfriend, and your first assumption is that he’s on the phone with someone. You take your time to take your shoes off and place them neatly by the door, shrugging off your jacket and hanging it before taking a couple steps forward to walk further in. You hope your slowness will give him enough time to wrap things up with whoever’s on the other side of the line, but if anything, he starts talking even more. Your brows pull together in a small, confused frown as you tilt your head slightly.
“Hello,” you hear him say. After giving a frustrated sigh, he clears his throat and tries again. “Hello. Love of my life, light of my eyes. I look at you and it feels like my heart is about to burst out of my chest, but, like, not in a bad way. I like it.”
Taking a couple steps, you pad silently toward the bedroom and stand just far enough so that you won’t interrupt anything, and almost smack yourself on the forehead when you realize what’s going on. He’s talking to himself in the mirror. Again.
You suppress a smile with pursed lips and swallow your laughter, extremely amused. Oikawa does give pretty entertaining speeches when he thinks no one’s around, and you feel like having a good laugh. After taking a single step closer, you come to the conclusion that he’s not actually in the bathroom, but in the bedroom.
“God, he’s such an idiot,” you whisper to yourself, pressing your forehead against the wall beside you. If you gave exactly three steps forward, you’d be standing right at the door. Right in front of him.
“You are literally the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on. And you absolutely own my heart,” he continues, and your eyebrows shoot up. You love how confident he usually is, but he’s never taken it this far. Is he... professing his love to himself? “Ah, no. Maybe that’s too much. Jesus, why is this so hard?”
You hear a loud smack and guess he’s just hit himself on the face. And your frown deepens, because he sounds pretty embarrassed and a little bit nervous, and that’s not usually him, even when he thinks he’s alone. However, curiosity gets the best of you, and you don’t dare move an inch, holding your breath as you hear him curse quietly, and then some rustling. He’s on the bed.
“I…” he pauses, groans, and there’s a soft thud on the mattress as though he’s just punched it. “I have no words. And I really can’t ruin this because it’s going to change the rest of my life, and you’re not making it any easier by giving me that stupidly cute look and I hate you, and I hate this, and—” There’s another much softer thud, this time against the wall, and after a couple seconds, you can hear him jumping to his feet and running to fetch whatever it was he threw, muttering a low ‘sorry.’ He heaves an even more frustrated sigh, and you can almost picture him tugging on his hair as you shift your weight onto your other leg. And there’s yet another thud, and you hear a loud albeit muffled scream as though his face is buried in a pillow, and your concern starts growing bigger than your curiosity. “Why is this so damn hard?!” After taking a hesitant step forward, his voice makes you freeze on the spot once again. You didn’t think he’d have more to say, since apparently he’s finding it ‘too hard.’ You wonder what’s making him so frustrated, so you keep listening instead of revealing yourself. “The stupid blog said to just ‘speak from the heart’, and how am I supposed to do that when I can’t even think straight when we’re in the same room? This is so stupid.”
There’s a longer pause, and you’re so confused that it’s frustrating. What on earth is he going on about? Whatever it is, it’s irritating him to the point of baldness. Which is a shame, because your boyfriend has the most perfect hair you’ve ever seen.
“Okay, fine. Look. You sit there and listen. Although I guess it’s not like you have much of a choice, but whatever.” A short pause, another sigh, and he’s talking again. “The day we met was the most special day of my entire life,” he begins. Oikawa hesitates before saying the next words, although his tone is much softer, like he’s reminiscing of something really fondly. “You make me feel like I’m the luckiest guy in the world, because I’m the only one that gets to experience all of your mornings, and all of your nights, and… just… being with you, I guess. And I want to keep experiencing you for the rest of my life. I can’t promise you to love you forever, because I’m a regular human being who will eventually die… and that sucks, because life’s good when I’m with you. It’s perfect, actually. So… what I can, promise is to love you for the rest of my life, however long that may be. Because I honestly can’t picture it without you in it.” After a beat of silence, he adds, although a little more quietly, “do you think it’d be too much if I say something about my cause of death probably being a heart attack because it beats so fast when we're together it might just overwork itself?”
Your heart does a summersault in your chest, and you cover your mouth with your hand to stop a scream from escaping. Is he doing what you think he’s doing?
“Nah, I think that might be too cheesy, don’t you? How about I just…?” There’s more rustling of fabric which allows you know he’s moving again, and you figure it’s probably just best to let him know you’re there. So you take the last two missing steps to reach the door, and stand right in front of him just as he says, “Y/N, will you marry me?” His eyes bug out comically when he sees you, and he drops the ring in his hand on the bed. It’s an odd sight, Tōru, looking as pale as a sheet of paper on one knee on the bed right in front of a plushie. “Shit!” he yells, hand darting to retrieve the ring and stammering wildly. “You weren’t supposed to find out,” he blurts out, tossing the plushie to the side. Oikawa blinks once, twice, then adds, “I mean, you were supposed to find out… eventually. I thought— you said you wouldn’t be back until ten.”
“It’s half past ten,” you whisper.
His gaze shoots to the clock on the bedside table, and he can see that it is, in fact, ten thirty. So you’re actually late. And there he was, ruining the most important moment of his life.
“I just… I was just—”
“Proposing to my plushie?” you offer with a feeble smile.
Oikawa gulps, glancing at the plushie and grabbing it to place it face down against the mattress. He doesn’t want such an innocent thing watching the train wreck happening in the room. After a moment, he places the ring right underneath it to keep it safe.
“Yeah.”
“And was the plushie supposed to be me?”
“Yeah,” he repeats, then shakes his head and says, “maybe…” he stammers for a second, halting suddenly when he notices the tears pooling in your eyes, and worry suddenly twists his features. “Are those sad tears or happy tears?”
“Did you really mean everything you said to the plushie?”
His mouth feels dry and his chest feels a little bit tight, so he only manages to nod. However, when he takes another look at you, he finds a little strength in himself, the kind only you seem to give him. There you are, with your messy hair, and the bags under your eyes, and wrinkly clothes, and his heart swells with so much love that he does feel like you might actually kill him one of these days because surely it can’t be healthy for his heart to beat so fast.
“Every single word. Actually, words honestly can’t explain what I feel and I just—” he gestures wildly, rubbing his face when he, once again, can’t express himself exactly. He swings his feet over the edge of the bed and walks toward you, holding your face with gentle hands. His thumb swipes across your cheek softly to collect the solitary tear that’s managed to escape your eye, and there’s so much tenderness and love in that single action that you find yourself a little breathless. “How many ways are there to say that I want to spend the rest of my life with you?”
You let out a watery chuckle, placing your hands on top of his and leaning into his touch. He smells fresh, and his skin is warm against yours—familiar and comforting. He smells, and feels like home. He is home.
“For the record, I didn’t think it was cheesy at all. I loved it,” you murmur, closing your eyes for a second to relish in the feeling of sharing this moment with him. He leans down to press his forehead against yours and takes a deep breath, wanting to fill himself of you. “And I also want to spend the rest of my life w—”
Your interrupted by his hand suddenly covering your mouth, and your eyes snap open to shoot him a bewildered look.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he says, holding one finger up to make sure you understand. When you don’t move a hair, he nods and withdraws his hand, holding both of them up to keep you in place. “Let me do it right.” He spins around and throws himself onto the bed, carefully placing the plushie aside to retrieve the ring. He has to be careful; it’s your favorite plushie, after all. Tōru takes a good look at the jewelry in his hand, which glints softly under the fluorescent lights. Giving a firm nod, he turns around and walks over to you once again, dropping on one knee right before you. You laugh, earning a cheeky smile from him as he takes your hand in his, holding the beautiful ring in the other. “Y/N. Love of my life, light of my eyes. Do you accept to spend the rest of your life listening to my awful karaoke and watching trashy t.v. with me so we can grow old and wrinkly together and have a small army of children with a couple dogs and maybe even a cat?”
You throw your head back with a hearty laugh and nod your head repeatedly, not even caring about the tears flowing down your face. They’re happy tears, after all.
“I do,” you say, never having felt surer of anything in your entire life.
“Perfect,” he whispers, sliding the ring onto your finger and pressing a soft kiss on top of your hand. It looks right at home, like it was always meant to be there. “I was actually planning to make dinner to go with this,” he says, tapping the ring lightly, “but I… lost track of time. Your plushie is an excellent listener, you know?” He smiles as he stands up.
“Oh, I know,” you say with a chuckle, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your forehead against his chest. Oikawa smiles brightly, enthusiastically returning the embrace and placing a sweet kiss on the crown of your head. “How about we just order something?”
“M’kay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face against you. “But I am making dinner tomorrow.”
“All right, fiancé,” you hum, and you think you actually feel him shudder against you.
“Oh my God, say it again,” he breathes out, pulling back to look at you as you repeat it.
“Fi-an-cé,” you say, enunciating every syllable clearly.
“You know what,” he says, and you let out a shriek when he picks you up and walks further into the bedroom with you over his shoulder. “I think dinner can wait a little longer.”
You’re surprised to find Suna awake when you enter the apartment. He doesn’t look up when you close the door behind you, doesn’t greet you or acknowledge you in any way. He doesn’t even ask where you’ve been, because it’s almost eleven, and you’re only just coming back. He already knows the answer—something went down at work and you had to stay to help fix whatever happened. It's always the same.
You take off your shoes and leave them by the door, walking toward the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. It’s always managed to relax you, and you certainly need it right now; work was extremely stressful, and all you wanted to do was go to bed with your boyfriend and sleep for a whole week. Want things to go back to what they used to be.
The ambiance in your apartment is a little odd. You wouldn’t call it uncomfortable nor upsetting, it’s just… quiet. Extremely so, regardless of the soft noise in the background of the t.v. playing some movie Suna was watching. He’s sitting on the couch, fiddling with the controller in his hands as he faces forward, although he isn’t really watching the screen before him. It’s almost as if he’s somewhere else entirely, at least in his mind. Which is why his voice, despite being quiet, startles you when he speaks suddenly.
“This isn’t working,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear.
You let out a soft hum, looking over your shoulder. His eyes are on the controller in his hands as he drums his fingers on it.
“Oh, I think I have some spare batteries around here somewhere,” you say, leaving your mug on the countertop to rummage through the drawers. You remember buying a package recently and tossing it in the first drawer you opened as soon as you walked in. You let out a soft, triumphant cheer when you find them, and turn around to face him as you hold them up to show him. “Here.”
Suna bites on the inside of his cheek, stretching his arm forward to point the controller at the t.v. and pressing the power button, which makes the screen go black in a second. You blink, watching him as he sets the device down next to him and lets out a sigh.
“I meant us.”
There’s a silence broken only by the clattering of the package of batteries plummeting to the floor, and you hear someone gasp. Suna’s mouth doesn’t open after what he said, so it’s only safe to assume that you were the one who did it.
“What?” you whisper, so softly that you fear he might’ve not heard you, but Suna glances at you, shifts in his seat, and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“Just think about it,” he begins in a soft tone, rubbing the side of his face with his hand. It feels as though if he spoke any louder, he’d be screaming. “You’re always working. I’m always away. We almost never coincide,” he explains, lifting a finger after each statement to count. “And we’ve been fighting so much lately.”
You walk forward, coming to a halt at a short distance from him. Close enough to hear his soft breathing, but not too close—you’re afraid he might be able to hear your heart shattering into a million pieces if you take one more step.
“Rin,” you breathe out. “Why are you—?”
“Don’t call me that,” he murmurs, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he turns his face slightly away from you.
“Rintarō,” you say instead, and the three syllables make your heart sting and your throat burn. You don’t call him Rintarō, he’s always been Rin to you. From the moment you met, to the moment he told you he liked you, and when he asked you out, and every time you kissed him goodnight. Every time you told him you loved him. Calling him by his given name makes your heart clench in your chest, because it feels as though he’s already made up his mind, and you’re making it official, accepting it, by calling him that. “No,” you say, and after hearing how weak it sounds, you clear your throat and repeat, “no. Don’t do this. Please, don’t— We can… we can make it work.” The lump in your throat refuses to be swallowed, but you somehow manage to make the words sound much firmer than you had expected. “We can make it work,” you repeat, unsure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.
Suna finally looks at you, and when your eyes meet, you have to refrain yourself from taking a step back. The look in his eyes… it’s something you’ve never seen before. So cold, devoid of all the love they ever held—there’s so much determination in them: he's made up his mind. And you can’t help but wonder… when was it over for him? When was the moment he knew he’d walk out eventually? You refuse to believe there’s nothing left of what you two shared, because it’s still not over for you.
“I don’t think I want to make it work,” he says, lips forming a thin line afterwards. His words are as sharp as knives, and they slice your heart right open. You take a cautious hand to your chest, almost expecting to feel blood against your skin. Despite it being logical, you find yourself surprised to find your chest whole, because it certainly doesn’t feel like it is. You swear there’s a hole right where your heart used to be, and it hurts. It hurts so damn much. “It’s not worth it,” he continues twisting the knife, standing up and turning his back to you. “We’re just fighting a losing battle, and I’m done. I need more.”
You can’t see clearly through the tears spilling from your eyes, but you can make out the shape of his body as he begins walking away from you. You still hold onto him, even though you know he’s already gone. There’s no space for you in his heart.
“I’ve given you everything I have,” you say through gritted teeth, balling your hands into fists as you furiously wipe your tears. Your sight gets clear enough to see his face when he turns around once more.
“It’s not enough,” he says, shaking his head softly. The sight of you is heart-wrenching, but it’s something he has to do. “I’m sorry,” he adds, and heaves an even deeper sigh. “Look… you deserve better than this. I’m sure you’ll find someone else, and maybe—”
“I don’t want anyone else!” you yell, trying to control yourself a little. You’re finding it hard to breathe, and if the heartbreak doesn’t kill you, the lack of oxygen certainly will. “I want you! I want this— I want us!”
“But I don’t.”
The way he says it feels like a slap to the face, and you clasp a hand tightly over your mouth to stop the scream that’s fighting to escape your throat. You can’t stand the sight of him, but you also can’t stand the idea of it being over. You dedicated all of you to loving him, where the hell did it go so wrong? How is it possible to love someone and then, all of a sudden, decide that they’re simply not worth it anymore? How does one go from wanting to wake up to the same person every day to wanting to walk away?
“Please don’t do this,” you whisper, falling to your knees. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying desperately to hold yourself together, because the one person that could do it just gave up on you.
“I have to.”
A suffocating silence falls over you two, and you swear that, for a second, the world has stopped spinning. At least your world has. It only gets worse when you see him pick up a bag from the floor, slinging the strap over his shoulder. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that it’s everything of his that was in your apartment. You only now realize that, over the last couple of weeks, he had taken most of his belongings away. He was preparing for this moment.
“Please… please stay,” you beg, your entire body trembling with held back sobs.
And you wonder, and wonder, and wonder… maybe it is your fault, after all. Maybe, because despite noticing he was one mistake from running away, you ever really gave him a reason to stay. But you can’t help but question what was the detonator. Was it when he didn’t ask if you were okay after that one fight with your mom? Was it the first time that you pulled away from his embrace? Was it tonight, when he didn’t ask where you’d been? You always thought you’d be the person he’d run to, not from.
“I can’t.” He can’t. He won’t, because he doesn’t want to. Because he doesn’t love you anymore. Because it’s over. “What we had felt right. But it wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
You can’t believe how easily he walks out the door without a single look back. And just like that, you find yourself alone.
