imagine being roommates with suguru in college or something and you get really drunk one night while out with some friends, and you stumble on back to the shared apartment and stumble into his room and pass out in his bed by accident. you wake up him spooning you and your face feeling sooo smooth (he did your skin care for you💀)
you try to get out of his hold to go wallow in embarrassment in your room but he’s having none of that and just pulls you in closer, now waking up and rubbing your sore tummy as if he can sense the hangover. you’re obviously mortified and his ass is completely unbothered and beaming asking how you’re feeling as if this is a regular occurrence LMAO.
you tell him you’re fine and go to get up but nopee he shoves your ass right back to bed saying something like “noo your head must be pounding and your poor little tummy…. you should just stay here all day so i can keep an eye on you🥰🥰” you end up deciding to because to be real you don’t have a choice at this point, and that hangover is kicking in.
he tucks you back in like the mama hen he is and leaves for about ten minutes, returning with a platter if fruit you figured he just magically pulled out of his ass since you don’t remember any of that being in the house (he bought everything the night before in preparation for this shhhh). he hand feeds you while cooing at you and stroking your sore head, when you’re done he just pulls you back into his chest putting the show you two were previously watching together on and just lays there with you all day rubbing your head as if you were his sick little pet kitten. you’re just laying there thinking this is some sort of fever dream.
you frown in front of cult leader suguru for the first time and he wants to kill himself. the way your brows crease and the dip in your lips of pure overwhelm. the way your clammy hands uncomfortably try to hold the chopsticks, taking a tissue to wipe the nervous sweat off. unfortunately your body doesn’t know the difference between sitting next to big and intimidating cult leader sugu and being chased by a bear…….
he’s just observing you, humans are so fragile. the pang in his chest hurts more than anything else right now, and he’s pissed off about it. “am i hurting you right now?” he asks, and just earns a small headshake of no. you don’t even talk to him — please talk to him please please please —
he sighs, holding you up from the chair and craddling you against him, holding you tightly. the bear chasing you is now the bear hugging you. your heart hammers against your chest, over and over and over. and he’d think you’re going to pass out from it all. the way he can feel the rapid lub dub lub dub lub dub lub dub.
“sshh~ it’s just food. silly little meal.” he is caught muttering, caressing your hair. rubbing your back like a careful mother bear.
and the inevitable happens, you calm down, nuzzling against him gently and gripping his gojo gesa. a soft hum escapes from your parted lips. followed by an exhale from your nervous system feeling like home.
Synopsis. Welcome to the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT! Where we take the information given on your profile, a few tests run by our team of experienced matchmakers, and our cutting-edge matchmaking system to scientifically pair you up with the perfect JJK man to ahem- make you Juno, you know?
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, bed chem, matchmaking, Dr. Shoko cameo, she’s had enough, NEEDY JJK men, chokíng, spítting, Iíngerie, DlLF!Toji, ex!Geto, arguing while doing it, ROUGH s, p talking, p sIapping, cIit pinching, doggy, fuII neIsons, toys (Sukuna), DP, BIIIIG stretches, pushing down, cervíx smooches, manhandIing, DÚMBlFICATION, Choso with píercings, Choso’s inspired by HoriMiya a little, matíng presses, fírst times (him), pùssydrunk JJK men, bíting, prem. ejac, nerd!Gojo, creampíes, cúmplay, Iove hotels, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. DADDY TONY’S BAAAAAACK!! And I might not have brought chiId support but I DID bring the Iittle announcement that I might…mayhaps…be working on my own Iittle story hehehe. It’s what I’ve been so busy with- and it’s something I’ve been wanting to write for a looooong time now. I’ve currently been worldbuilding smmmm ah, but yeah! Hoping to share this one with you too one day babygirls <33
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 99.96% MATCH!
“So is this thing measuring, like…bed chemistry?”
Oh. Your words ring far too loudly inside your ears - let alone inside this clinic. And you’re not quite sure who to blame—Dr. Ieiri Shoko for keeping her office so barren, or yourself for asking that question.
Like the bleached inside of a tusk, the surface of a porcelain plate just a touch too smooth. Too polished. Intimacy has never been so undefiled as these cold white walls advancing upon either side of you, clung onto by a fugitive nervousness that was white-hot. Not just yours - but the tens of thousands of clients that the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT boasts to have helped on their site.
It’s not quite what one imagines when they say ‘famous matchmaking agency’.
Your smile tightens. “M-my apologies, I hope I didn’t offend-”
“Yes.” Her sudden answer makes you stop. “Yes, it is like bed chem.”
You gulp.
“And it seems you’re a 99.96% match with ah- Mr. Fushiguro Toji.”
99.96%.
‘Oh’ was right.
Just his name sends a thrill down your spine.
Your fists clench in your lap, and before you know it, you’re nodding at the woman. “I would…like to meet him, please.”
.
.
.
Name: Fushiguro Toji
Age: ?*
Occupation: ??
Category: DILF
Primary likings: Rough. Manhandling. Doggy. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 8 onwards…)
*Got offended when asked (assumed mid-thirties).
One date that lasts about an hour.
One date that lasts about an hour - that’s all it takes for the boiling tension between you and ‘Mr. Fushiguro Toji’ to bubble over. Perhaps it was due to the shared knowledge that you two were scientifically identified to be perfect sexual matches, perhaps it was the way those vine-green eyes swept over you leisurely, appreciatively, as you walked into the romantic dinner date arranged by the agency.
It seems Toji had entered himself into the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT on accident after believing it was a normal matchmaking agency.
“—so imagine my surprise when I get there n’ all the questions are about what positions I like to stick my dick in?” He’d gruffed over the candlelit dinner - French cuisine, was it? A few of the other patrons glared at him, but Toji paid no attention. “I mean- I went along with it, of course. Already paid about twenty yen, hmpf…but I hadn’t actually planned to go through with this bullshit until-”
Those intense eyes of his flickered to you once more.
“-I saw that application of yours- of course.” And you felt the inchoate desire in your stomach give a strange twist—“A 99.6-”
“99.96%. Actually.” You interrupted, gnawing on your bottom lip.
“Interesting.” Toji smiled and leaned back into his chair. “Really interesting.”
And perhaps it was—
“Don’t tell me I’ve fucked ya speechless already when I haven’t even put it in?”
You’re snapping back to your senses- enough reminiscing about those first few minutes of meeting the man that was currently hugging you close to him - crushing you against his sultry sweat-sticky abs - not in a gentle display of affection, but such a lecherous embrace. Tacking his toned pelvis against your ass. Letting his engorged tip push-push-push between your pussylips and sliiiiiiiide down all those tender innards.
Toji keeps you from moving even a single inch as he shuffles you into doggy position. The bed whines just as you do. “S’this your favorite?” He watches from the corner of his eye as you nod. “Yeahhhh, mine fuckin’ too, girlie.”
And, in emphasis, he’s circling one roughened palm over your right ass cheek—giving just a brazen little smack.
“Mine fuckin’ too, girlie.”
“I mean, there’s a reason they matched us.” You huff at him.
“Yeah- and I’m about to find out.” Toji mutters. And you’re hearing him before anything else - the soft creaking! of that shitty love hotel bed, dipping, as he shuffles even closer—the sultry lil’ smooch of his wet tip kissing your hole. Thump-thump-thump—you can count every pulse. His or yours? “Bite the pillow.”
“Why would I need to- ohhhh, mpf-”
The answer to your question comes swift and merciless - because in one fluid motion Toji has his cocktip burgeoning inside, and his hips plastering to yours.
He keeps both hands - warm and slightly gnarled with callouses from whatever shady line of business he was in - firmly upon either side of your waist. Using his massive strength to jerk you back—just a little…But it feels like Toji was pumping thoroughly into your deepest core.
He was usin’ the little flare underneath his tip to stretch that snug channel- stretching and stretching that first ring of muscle. And then bashing his cockhead in so roughly that you start to wonder whether he was having issues controlling himself—you’re feeling Toji let out a little cracked groan as he feels your walls quiver around him. And then he’s pushing his hot cock in aaaaaaall the way as deep as it could go- “Aaaaaaatta girl. That’s a good girl. Now for the fun part…”
You furrow your brows half-heartedly. “This isn’t already the fun part?” Earning yourself the oh-so-lascivious punishment of yet another spank on your right cheek; and then a few more probin’ pushes of his cock. “I was just—oh-” Your toes curl as he hits a particularly good spot without even trying.
“It is.” Toji responds. “But it’s just about to get a whole lot more fun.”
You’re shivering as one of his fingertips paint the line down your spine, immediately followed by a string of kisses as far as he could go. But, of course, you never did expect Fushiguro Toji to be so gentle—did you? You never wanted him to be, did you?
Because his lips hover ‘round the soft skin of your right shoulder—and without warning, he’s biting. Your mouth opens in a soundless scream.
With a grunt that sounds as though it’s been dragged from the primal depths of his throat, Toji jerks your hips back into his with a plap! of skin-on-skin. And almost before that, he’s suddenly starting to pummel and pummel those rugged hips of his into yours, utterly molding his thick cock into your goopy insides- coating every inch with a layer of his slick—
“Because.” Toji gruffs out in an animalistic way - he angles his head and licks a long stripe up your neck. “Because- it took me a loooooooong time to get matched on that damn program. A long fuckin’ time.”
“Oh-” You’re yelping as he tugs your arms from underneath you- and you’re collapsing face-first into the soft strawberry-scented pillows. Collapsed doggy.
And before you know it, Toji straightens up and lets the heel of one of his feet rest on the corner of your shoulder. “Tch- way too fucking long.” This angle lets his cock penetrate even deeper, and his bouldering tip pushes into every single slick-filled orifice inside. “How long should it take to find a pretty babe f’me who likes it rough—” And he fucks you rough. “-who likes it hard—” And he fucks you hard. “-who likes me disrespectin’ this pussy like she deserves. Now how hard should that be, hm?”
And you’re unsure whether he was genuinely expecting a response or not - but you’re letting out a blabber of something you hope is comprehensible either way. “I—mmm, notthathard-”
“Exactly.” Toji huffs out a short breath of laughter. Then his hands are on you—pushing on the base of your spine and arching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible.
“O-ohhhhhh, harder-”
“Thought you said it wasn’t that hard? And throw in a little manhandling-” Arching. “Just a little dumbification.” Making you drool. He reaches his foot - just a little, just softly - up to put pressure on near your neck n’ restrict your air flow—he leaves you gasping and choking with every thrust. “A little choking- heh.” He looks you over. “Maybe a few daddy issues-”
“Hey!”
“And then you’ve got it. Perfectly matching. Now that shouldn’t be so hard, hm?”
But you can’t quite answer.
Because Toji’s fucking you so good- he’s thrusting his cock into yours like he wants his pelvis melded to yours ass. He’s crushing and draaaagging your limp body down the bed and into his strong arms.
It’s almost as if your bodies are communicating with a secret language, because whenever you’re bouncing back he’s angling juuuust right to swab into your g-spot, when you’re jerking forwards he’s chasin’ after that syrupy-sweet pussy of yours. Candied with glittering globs of his pre.
Creating a swatting sound so loud, creating a pressure between your legs so hard, that your ears start ringing—“Oh, p-please…”
“And y’know the only difference between you and me?” Toji’s still steamrolling his dirty sentences- and you can barely blink your eyes open past all the pleasure he’s giving you. But you must manage to make some noise of question, because he continues. “That agency categorized me as a DILF. And you’re no MILF…yet.”
A shockwave runs down your spine.
“Th-that means…”
Toji leans in and huffs. Clammy breath. “So that profile said something about a breeding kink?”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 100.1% (?) MATCH!
“You’ve done it. I’m ah…not quite sure how- but you’ve done it.” Dr. Shoko breathes. And although the words are in her usual impervious tone of voice, there’s a quiver there at the end that, after weeks of appointments with the doctor, you’ve learned to pick out as foreign.
Dr. Ieiri Shoko never wavers.
You’re leaning in and attempting to peek at your file. “Is there something wrong, doctor?”
“Not unless you count breaking the program’s metric wrong.” She slides over the file - face down as though the documents inside would snap at her if she wasn’t careful - and you’re immediately flipping it open. Your eyes widen as they’re immediately drawn to the bold, underlined number of a 100.1% match shown at the top of the first page—you’re then meeting Shoko’s own widened gaze.
“Huh?”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Shoko opens her drawer and takes out two caplets of Extra Strength Tylenol and chugs them down—no water. She closes her eyes for a second to let them pass down her slender throat, and once she opens them again she’s immediately looking down at the file - as if hoping it had disappeared in the time.
But no such luck for Dr. Ieiri Shoko today.
She lets out a prolonged sigh and leans back in her chair. Enough time has passed that the two of you could forgo such formalities in the presence of the other, “I just…I just don’t know how that could happen. Mathematically and scientifically, it just doesn’t make sense. And yet, the program never makes a mistake- never.”
You understood her plight - you’d looked over (and passed on) your fair share of matches, and the highest you’d gotten was a 78% match with some guy called Atsumu Miya—you just had this nagging feeling that you’d find a greater match.
A stronger…chemistry with someone else.
And so you’d passed. And passed. And passed, until you were starting to feel that perhaps you’d never find a match greater than the 90% or even 80% statistics that the site often boasted. That is until…
Name: Nanami Kento
Age: 27
Occupation: Office worker
Category: Gentleman with a big D.
Primary likings: Service dom. Fitting. Milk him. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 9 onwards…)
Your eyes linger on those last two words of his Primary Likings section: milk him…
And immediately you’re feeling a thrill shoot up between your legs—causing them to squeeze together, causing Shoko’s eyes to quickly flicker down at the miniscule action. “Hm.” She types something on her keyboard - and you assume she’s shooting an email to one of the matchmakers in the program. “Maybe that’s what they mean by a match of 100.1%…”
White-hot embarrassment curls around your heart. “What? Oh, you’re incorrigible-”
“And you’re glad.” She smirks. “This is what you’re been waiting all this time for, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes…” You’re looking down at the passport-sized photo of Nanami on the front page. It was seemingly some sort of office photo he must’ve used in his resumes as well; and there he stood all sharp and aloof - almost bored - in a form-fitting suit and his blond hair pushed back smoothly, deep-set eyes almost piercing through the photocopied paper. Like an utter gentleman. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”
.
.
.
“It’s okay, darling, you don’t have to take it all—”
“But I want to, Kento.”
There’s something so sensual - so utterly fucking erotic - about the way Nanami looks when he’s on the verge of pussydrunkness. Sprawled out on the love hotel mattress. Jawline dotted with your recently-made hickies. His thick thighs are tensing and untensing—just as you’re straddlin’ his hips just a little wider and taking in Nanami’s rock-hard, drippin’ wet cock.
A meek blush creeps up the man’s cheeks once you cup them.
You’re lifting Nanami’s handsome face up to meet yours, and keep such looong, loving eye contact as you’re sliding your hips down and gulping one more inch after inch. Thick inch after inch.
The poor man’s breath catches and he’s letting out a little whimper as Nanami’s hot girth fills you up tantalizingly. “Oh sh-shit—”
Your body arches into his. “Mmm, with such a big, pretty cock like this - how could I not?”
“P-pretty…” He repeats. Those golden-hazel eyes of his widen behind his glasses, and you swear you see them welling up with tears as you take him. “But darling, what if it’s too big?”
“It could never be too big.” You cock your head with a sultry smile. “We’re a 100.1% match, remember? That means…”
In emphasis, you’re swervin’ your hips down in a semi-circular motion that makes him drive even deeper.
“-every part of us matches.”
And then poor Nanami Kento - overworked, underpaid, going off of nothing but instant coffee and the smell of freshly-baked bread from the bakery near the office - is being ridden to heaven by your devilish hips. Up and down. Up and down. The way you’re digging your nails into his shoulders…the way you’re pushing your nipples up against his pecs, rubbing…the way you’re clenchin’ around his tip - right where he was the reddest and hottest and most sensitive - every time he probes inside.
A too-loud moan erupts from his lips—and Nanami immediately attempts to clamp his mouth shut.
But there’s no use. You’re watching with a knowing smile as you’re fucking such lasvicious moans n’ ribbons of spittle out of him. With every single squeeze.
Spit drips down the side of his mouth- and he shivers as you lean in and lick it away. “S-so that means…” He whispers. Almost to himself. Those pretty eyes of his keep starin’ down lovingly at the area you two were connected. “-this lovely lady is made for me?”
“If by ‘lovely lady’, you’re referring to my pussy…” You reply coyly. You throw your arms around him and tug on those precious golden curls at the nape of his neck. It makes a sexy grunt escape Nanami’s lips. “Then why don’t you find out?”
And Nanami doesn’t know why- he can’t help himself.
It’s just like…the more times he’s thrusting inside your cunt, semi-thrusts, the deeper he’s delving between those sweet pussylips, the more addicted he’s getting to it.
He’s reaching up and pressing down where he was fitting inside.
“Oh.” Nanami’s eyes grow heavy. Drunk on lust. A twinge of pain runs up your core as he squeezes a mere inch more, “Oh. I-is this okay?”
“Keep going.”
And he’s stretching you so much you can’t even begin to describe—
“Shiiiiit-”
“Does it hurt? I hope it doesn’t hurt-”
“No no- oh, more-”
“It’s true—” He spits. Beads of sweat plaster his temple, and his features twitch in pure carnal ecstasy as you squeeze your pretty legs tighter around him. A vein makes itself prominent on his neck. “Fuck, it’s true- she’s taking me so well-”
With a single thumb, he spreads apart your pussylips n’ watches his inches slip inside.
“And she’s so hungry for it, too.” Nanami looks up at you. “Do you think she’s been hungry for it all this time, my love? My cock?”
“Oh, I bet.” Throwing your head back—you’re practically plastered against Nanami’s surprisingly toned front. “Keep going, keep going, keep going, please- Kento—”
“Anything for you.”
And to be honest, Nanami Kento never saw himself as the wild type in bed.
For starters, he was a busy man—spreedsheets were his regular partner, and powerpoints were his mistress. And perhaps that was the exact reason Shoko, his lifelong friend, had signed him up for this stupid program. As much as Nanami had howled and huffed about the ethics of signing one’s friend up for this and ‘but he needs to work that day so he doesn’t need to do overtime…’ lo and behold there he found you.
Well, more like you found him.
Showing up so pretty and perfect for your first meeting in Shoko’s office—and when he’d seen that match measurement of 100.1%…Nanami felt a sudden flare of madness: that perhaps this entire thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Your second meeting had been in this cramped love hotel.
And Nanami had meant to wine and dine you- he’d meant to…but here he was. Hand clamoring to clasp either side of your hips - leaving crescent nail marks. Hips pushing off the mattress in animalistic little jerks—not even propery fucking inside, just yearning to feel the carnal squeeze of your cunt—
He hits that one spot. And he knows he does.
Because Nanami’s feeling his rotund cockhead push apart your pussylips n’ then slip somewhere deeeeep inside - one velvety bundle of nerves that makes you moan uncontrollably. Just a few inches more and he’d be hitting your coveted cervix…
And he does, but it feels like whiplash.
Because soon enough Nanami’s flipped the two of you over so that the bed dips with your combined weight, with you being manhandled onto your back, and Nanami’s cock wedging deeper into your cunt than it’s ever gone before. Inch by inch. It’s a hypnotizing mix of pain and pleasure as he marks every nook, cranny, and crevice inside you with silky dollops of pre.
He finally fits.
And Nanami lets out a massive gasp - several - as though he’d just finished a marathon once he does so. “100.1%” He throatily repeats - whilst it feels like you’re squeezing him strong enough to milk him. You’re letting out a botched moan as he nudges against your cervix with the top of his smooth tip, smearing sprays of gooey precum—as if he’d go even deeper if he could.
“I wonder what the 0.1% is, my love?”
You’re not getting out of here alive.
♡ GETO SUGURU - 98% (UN)MATCH!
“This is so stupid- we have no bed chemistry.”
“Absolutely no chemistry.”
“Seriously no chemistry.”
“Not even an ounce of chemistry.”
“Then why’re you inside me?”
“Why’d you ask me to be inside you?”
“I’m the one asking the questions here-” You scoff—but you know he’s got you cornered. And by the smug expression on Geto Suguru’s stupidly handsome face, he knows that too.
Unfortunately for him - you’re never one to back down. And so you’re slightly lifting your hips off the sweat-sodden mattress, not giving the man a second of warning before you’re clamping your silken walls down haaaaard ‘round his cock—and you try to ignore just how good - and familiar - it feels to have him inside you.
There was the thickness of his cockhead - flared the most at the base and perfect to jostle apart your slutty channel like you wanted so badly. There was one- two- three of his most prominent veins, curved down the middle of his shaft and rubbing against your pulsating soft spots. There was the arch of his erection that meant he’d not only be pushed against your cervix- but also up at the roof of your cunt.
His breath hitches, and he’s letting his head throw back. Cute.
And you never did expect to be matched with your stupid ex on that stupid sexual matchmaking program.
Let alone actually have sex with him again.
Let alone this be your fourth round.
Name: Geto Suguru
Age: 28
Occupation: Prefers not to say
Category: Morally grey.
Primary likings: Degradation. Spitting. Choking. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 69 onwards…)
“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” Dr. Shoko had commented. “Maybe a little check-up-”
“No.” You’d responded. “I’m ah- fine. It’s just—what sort of a category is that?”
“You’d be surprised what our clients are into.” She looked at you with amusement. “And, it seems, you as well.”
You shrunk in the clinic seat in shame.
And the most infuriating part of all…was that the damn program had been correct.
Geto managed to string your body n’ your pleasure along as if it took him no effort—he’d memorized all your sweetest spots inside and it seems he’d never forgotten, he’d never hesitate before spankin’ on your throbbing clit because he already knows it’s going to set your body alight, he’d thrash and thrash his hips into yours because he was fucking angry. And you were, too.
So why did the two of you break up in the first place? Ah, let’s just say…that plans of world domination and date nights don’t go together that well.
But Geto, it seems, was a changed man (or so he said).
He’d dissolved his cult that he always refused to call a cult (or so he said). He was back to self-studying and mending his relationships (or so he said) except, of course, his one with you…
“Stop thinking about what an asshat I am, you always get that look when you think about what an asshat I am.” You’re hearing Geto scoff from above you—and he has the audacity to lean down and prod your furrowed brow relaxed. “S’gonna make me soft.”
“Join the club, I’m already dry.”
With a single - perfectly shaped - brow raised, Geto creeps his right hand down your side—letting those soft fingertips of his just lightly caress the front of your cunt. Your utterly sodden cunt. “That’s not what this pussy’s telling me?”
You’re scrambling onto your elbows. “Communication issues for two years and suddenly you’re the pussy whisperer?”
“Yes. Good that you’re catching up-” That very hand comes up to push you down—“Down, gorgeous- let’s do it my favorite position, hm?”
You scoff. “I don’t remember your favorite position.”
“Oh yeah? Then why’re you halfway down to a full nelson?”
And it was true—ah, for all your supposed pride and dignity, and the pep talk that you’d given yourself before the agency-organized dinner date that you would totally not fuck Geto Suguru no matter how handsome he looked…
But dammit, he’d worn his long hair down.
Of course, the two of you argued over your romantic dinner. Squabbling. Bickering. Making the server hold in his laughter every time you (admittedly immaturely yet albeit justifiably) swiped something off of Geto’s plate when he wasn’t looking; whatever one wanted to call it.
Of course, the two of you ended up at the love hotel a few minutes away from the restaurant; whatever one wanted to call it.
And currently you’re basking in the saturated, sickly-sweet strawberry scent bursting out in plumes from the love hotel pillows. “Eugh- I hate this smell.”
“Oh shush, you’re underneath me.” Geto got himself settled in the full nelson underneath you- and he doesn’t waste a single second before collectin’ a few trickles of slick on his right palm. He then grabs himself and coats his shaft in all the gossamer substance—pushing his perky tip against your hole. And then inside.
“O-ohhhhh—” Your voice cracks.
“Shut up, you’ve taken me more.” Geto spits- and at that very moment, you’re embarrassed to say that a carnal part of you twitches. And soon enough, he’s getting absolutely slathered in all those dewy droplets of sap that he’s missed so much since the break-up—absolutely claiming him, is what Geto likes to think. “And heh- based on what I read on your profile…me telling you to shut up just made you wetter-”
“A coincidence.” You sputter. “S-surely a coincidence.”
“Hmmm? And is it a coincidence that almost all those cute kinks on your profile were ones that I got you into?” He purrs- purrs.
“Not all- hngh, of them-”
“Maybe, but let’s be real, gorgeous—” And then Geto trails off - and it’s never a good sign when Geto trails off. Because that means- smack! As expected, his fingertips come slammin’ down until your clit’s swelling just a bit more, and his hips don’t slow down for a single second. You’re wincing as he keeps steamrolling. “-this pussy learned most of her tactics from me.”
What arrogance. Although you couldn’t lie- seeing Geto so worked up sent pangs of pleasure searing through every fibre of your body. And your favorite method to get him to shut up was to-
“Clench.” He’s gritting his teeth—hissing his words out through them, as he bucks his hips upwards- meeting your flutterin’ walls head-on with a sudden thwack! at your cervix. “Yeah- don’t think I don’t know about your secret technique-” Geto sounds crazed as he whispers in your ear, tone hitching and warbling with every second. But he still keeps going. “-and who taught you that clenchin’ so hard- clenching with the force of your core- feels so good?”
“I-I…” Saliva seeps into your mouth twofold now that Geto’s increasing his pace. He reaches over n’ licks that little splatter-
“I-I-I-I…” Geto mocks. “I don’t think you’re being truthful, girl~”
“It was you—” You’re yowling- attempting to stand upwards to perhaps get ahold of yourself - but the only thing you’re succeeding in doing is urging Geto to wrap his left arm around your neck and draaaaaaag you right back down.
You gasp at the sensation of his thick biceps; the firmness and strength held within them; the curves and dips of his muscles. “And who taught you that getting choked like this feels good?”
You’re so woozy- fuck, your head’s throbbing and you’re feeling the wadded-up remnants of cum Geto’s left behind from previous rounds. Harder and harder. Rougher, his balls keep slapping against the front of your sodden folds. “You…”
“And who taught you that this pussy feels better when m’being mean?”
“You—”
“And who’s getting back together with you?”
“You- wait, what?”
“Heh.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 92% MATCH!
Name: Kamo (Itadori) Choso
Age: ?*
Occupation: Student
Category: Hey, hey, hey EMO BOY!
Primary likings: Subbing. Getting pussydrunk. Shooting blanks. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 14 onwards…)
*Client became nervous after seeing the diagrams of sexual positions in the following forms and could not answer (EDIT: Later confirmed 23 but spiritually 150 (?)).
“Him?”
Dr. Shoko sits statuesquely before you. No change in her expression. Not even the slightest twitch in her fingers as she flips through your documents one more time.
After a moment of silence, she takes a deep breath and asks. “Erm- my apologies, but would I be right in assuming that you’re not attracted to hi-”
“No—no, no, no, no, no-”
“Ah- well, that’s one way to pass on a match-”
“No- that’s- that’s not what I meant.” Red-hot embarrassment, shot through with a spike of excitement once your eyes drop down to the profile of the man once more, curdles in your chest. And you’re sure you look quite frantic attempting to rescind…perhaps everything you’ve blurted out in the past five minutes. Dr. Shoko raises a brow. “Of course, I’m attracted to him.”
A knowing smile tugs at her lips. “Oh?”
“Yeah- of course.” You cough out. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Piercings glinting on his ears, snakebites on his lips, and a nervous - almost sheepish, but with a bring-your-daughter-home-at-2AM defiance - expression on his face. Just your type. “He’s perfect, actually.”
Dr. Shoko puts her documents down on the table and crosses her legs. “Then what seems to be the problem?”
“It’s just…I kinda know him?” You’re wincing. “We go to the same university- he does Japanese History, and I’ve seen him ‘round in the Anime Club.”
She hums. “Mm, you seem to know a lot about him.”
You almost sputter- “J-just as much as the average person would…But the thing is that on campus he just looks a little…different? I guess? Imagine your typical nerd—glasses, vests, knows one too many things about Tolkien, cute.” Dr. Shoko throws you a look—nerds were a close second on your list of types, okay?! And you’d always believed Choso was cute even before all this sprucing up. “Anyways. That sort of thing.” And then you’re taking a second look at the photograph on his profile - maybe the distance would help you see him clearly? And nothing. “And now…”
Everything else matched up.
It was just in his photograph where he looked like he belonged in an early 2000’s emo band.
You let out a slight gasp. “Is he catfishing m-”
“No. Although that would be a little entertaining to see…” Dr. Shoko mutters that last part to herself- “However, Mr. Kamo has shown up to every appointment in exactly this style. Could it be that perhaps he prefers one style for university, and the other in private?”
“Probably.” You sigh. And you see that look on her face- you know that look on her face. “Oh, fine. We both know I want you to match us.”
.
.
.
“Fuh-fuck pleeeease—” Veins, reddened and irritated, snake down the expanse of Choso’s neck - and you’re not surprised. Not when Choso kept twitchin’ and bucking with every single fwop! of your cunt slamming down onto his hips, letting his cock rover deeeeeply inside.
Oh-so-deeply.
You’ve got the poor man sat up against the headboard of this crappy love hotel. You’ve got his face pushed between your tits, as you’re bouncing your hips up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
Cute suctioning noises let off where he’s glued his mouth to one of your tits, letting his cheeks hollow as he suckles. “Please- ngh.” Unabashed tears roll down Choso’s cheeks, “Do you really think I can cum again?” Ending his sentence with a single jagged thrust inside your gooey depths.
“But of course.” You purr—purr. It’s enough to make Choso shudder, ravenous cock twitching. “Because I said so. And what did I say about me saying so?”
“M-mommy’s always right when she says so…” He responds- cheeks burning such a sweltering red.
“Hah…” Leaning down you kiss him- at least, it starts off a kiss. But soon enough you have your tongue sliding across his bottom lip, playing with the sexy snake bites that pierce through the nerd’s lower lip. Always with his nose stuck in a book—you’re kicking yourself for not noticing the holes sooner. “Not so tough now, are you?”
You’ve been teasing him for what feels like eons - but in reality has been about two…maybe three…maybe seven rounds cooped-up inside this love hotel - now; and it’s enough to set Choso on all sorts of edges. Choso can’t speak. Choso can’t form a single thought. Choso can’t control his body- what the fuck he can’t…Unable to stop himself from constantly yearning that sweet pressure that comes from striking the flat surface of the back of your pussy—
His hips are stinging. But he’s still pushing and pushing and pushing.
“Just one more, then?” He asks. Tears in his eyes.
“Awwww- you really are an emo boy. I can’t believe you had the entire campus fooled for years now.” You snicker- watching as his eyes narrow…first in exasperation, and then in ecstacy as you’re squeezing ‘round his cock. “Mhm. Just one more- mommy has to reward you for losing your virginity, doesn’t she?” You ask. Expectedly, Choso nods and nods.
That had been the entire reason for his participation in this program, it seems - the poor thing wanted to get some experience. And you couldn’t blame him—nor be nice to him. According to his profile, Choso liked it when he was fucked hard- no experience and already thinking like a freak, huh? He was definitely your type.
Tapping at your chin in an exaggerated display of thinking.
“But mommy’s wondering….where is my nerd gonna cum?”
His eyes go wide. Breath hitching, “Please-”
“I mean- maybe you could pull out and I could milk you onto the blanket—?” Dramatically, the other man’s lower lip quivers as a sob threatens to break through. So many rounds and he still hadn’t cum inside - you’d gotten him everywhere: on your stomach, on your tits, between your thighs, on your tongue. Everywhere but inside. “Hmmm. Nope.”
He perks up.
“How about my mouth again?”
Choso shakes his sweaty head.
“I wanted to- hngh—” It’s so tough for him to speak when he’s actively trying not to fall apart at the seams.
“Oh, what’s that?” Your eyes go wide. “Don’t feelin’ my mouth wrapped around your cock, Choso- is it?”
He shudders at the mere imagery of that. Every single thrust had him threatening to spill inside—those gossamer ribbons were flooding your entrance n’ starting to drip down your thighs. “No-”
“No?”
“No, no, no, no—I love your mouth-” He sputters. “-m-mommy…” And even though it’s already been so long, Choso was still wearing those chunky rings depicting skulls and such on- gliding them up and down your back soothingly. “I love every part of you. But I just really…really…really wanted to cum inside this time-” Peeking up at you through tear-stained lashes. “…if that’s okay with you?”
He looked so pretty, it was hard not to cave in then and there.
But you had to stand firm. “Nuh uh…I don’t know.” Tapping at your chin once more. “M’honestly a little hurt that you’d hide this emo side of yourself, Choso.” Leaning down to whisper into his ear- his silver studs glint. “Especially when emo boys with big dicks just make me sooooooo fuckin’ wet—”
Choso startles as though he’d been electrocuted. “I-if I’d known that then I would’ve told you in a heartbeat, mommy-”
“Ah, sweet-talking me now?” You wave. “What other secrets are you hiding, Mr. Kamo Choso?”
And it’d been a rhetorical question, something to make your poor boy squirm—honestly! But perhaps you should’ve expected that with Choso’s fried, pussydrunken brain he wouldn’t have caught onto the toying tone of your voice. That he would’ve blushed- and confessed.
“A-actually the only reason I joined was to get experience-” You raise a brow as you’d already known that. “-so that if- when I actually found the courage to ask someone out, then I’d be less likely to disappoint them in bed…”
Your lips quiver. “Oh, Cho.”
And then you’re wrapping your arms around Choso’s head - pushing his face deeper into your clammy tits, skin-against-skin - you’re running your fingers through his hair, soothing, as Choso keeps fuckin’ away into you.
You whisper against his clammy forehead, “Cum inside, baby.”
And he does with a broken groan—long, lengthy ribbons of cum decorating the interior of your cunt. “Th-thank you, mommy.” He whimpers. They cling onto the outer ring of your entrance- which Choso has to push inside with a flicker of his thumb. The heat floods you instantly - bursts and bubbles of warmth spreading from your core, every single time that Choso twitches with another pang of pleasure- and his cockhead bursts out in cum.
Choso might be an utter sweetheart, but his cock was not-
He thwacks! out a few more creamy wads, and when he’s finally done and shooting blanks- Choso accumulates those dollops on the tip of his cock all to smear them at the bottom of your pussy. That sweet, sweet cervix.
“C-can I tell you another secret, baby?” He sobs.
“Of course, Choso.”
“You. It’s you.”
You free him from your embrace to look at him properly.
“It’s you that I’ve been wanting to ask out.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HE MATCHED?!
“Wait- who…?”
“The King of Curses.” Dr. Shoko responds with a straight face. Too straight. You needed her to crack a smile- you needed her to tell you that this was a joke. “At least—that’s what he calls himself, and we did have to track down his records to find out his actual name.”
Name: ITADORI (RYOMEN) SUKUNA
Age: 32
Occupation: ‘It’s complicated’.
Category: Rough n’ tough
Primary likings: ROUGH. Partners in lingerie. DP. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 55 onwards…)
“What does he mean by his occupation being…‘it’s complicated’?” You squint at the man’s profile.
“He wanted to put ‘King of Curses’ for that, too.” Dr. Shoko takes a long swig of her coffee. “Goodness knows I couldn’t figure that out even with a PhD. But it’s a lot more flattering than putting ‘Loitering’, isn’t it?”
“He loiters.” You ask.
“Hopefully a forgivable crime.” She nods.
And, sure, you didn’t give a shit about the loitering—what instead caught your attention was the little matchmaking measurement that was on the top of the page. Or at least supposed to be. Instead of a percentage like all your previous passes had, this time was greeted you instead was a simple note: MATCH MADE!
And underneath it was a few semi-erased notes from who you assume to be the matchmakers spelling out- ‘Thank goodness.’ ‘We thought the day would never come-’ ‘Take him off our hands, please!!’
Dr. Shoko catches you staring at them and promptly shuts your file for you. “It’s just ah- your match seems to have a bit of a…reputation here, you see?”
You ask, “A reputation? Is he some weirdo?”
“Well that’s one way of putting it…” She mutters to herself-
“What was that-”
“Nothing!” Dr. Shoko clears her throat, and smooths her mask of professionalism. “To be quite frank with you, Sukuna was one of our first clients—and we’ve been operational for quite some time now, and yet Sukuna never matched with anyone. If it wasn’t an extremely low percentage, then a match didn’t get past the interview stage- especially because Sukuna himself can be a little…intimidating. At one point we just started showing him the profiles first, expecting pass after pass.” She gives you a meaningful look. “But for the first time, it seems, the King of Curses has found himself interested.”
You don’t know how to interpret the little quirk of a smirk on her lips. “I see.” Flipping the file back open, you’re taking in those smoldering crimson eyes, that pink hair. He was handsome, that was for sure- and he sounded like such a character.
You can’t help but find yourself, perhaps, a little interested as well.
“But of course, it’s completely up to you. And I can pass this one and get some more matches lined up if-”
“Nah. No need to pass, Dr. Shoko.”
.
.
.
“Now do a little spin f’me- atta girl.”
Just about three dates - and you’d discovered that the pink-haired man honestly wasn’t too bad. A little eccentric- alright, very eccentric. He spoke in extremely old-fashioned Japanese and knew far too much about cannibalism, but other than that you thought him to be just fine. Handsome, too.
Just an hour into your romantic dinner at that one fancy French restaurant downtown. Just a glance at the nearby love hotel before you’re both huddling inside one cramped room, Sukuna tugging off his coat before he bore you with a strappy black lingerie set.
It barely covered…well, anything.
And that seemed to be just how he liked it.
Not even needing to tug those panties of yours to the side before he’s pressin’ his plump tip against your pussylips. Both so sensitive that the contact makes you hiss—and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as soon as he starts to enter. “O-ohhh-”
“Hey- hey—” Of course, it’s not long before you’re feeling one of his roughened hands come and lightly tap your cheeks. It makes you snap out of your little daze and discover that Sukuna had entered a few inches - barely halfway through - but it still felt like he was touching your deepest throat. “Ya have the King of Curses right before you and you’re not even looking at him? Tch-”
Without warning, he pummels just a little deeper. Just a tender caress of his zig-zagging veins along your wet channel-
“C’mon, woman—” Sukuna grumbles. “Literally what could be so interesting inside the back of yer skull? Look at me- look at how well m’fucking you.”
“S-so good…” You’re blabbering out, as soon as your senses are returning. Because the stark sensation of Sukuna streaking your insides was mind-numbing - you don’t think you’ve ever taken anyone this big before.
“Never?” Fuck- you said that out loud?! His smirk makes your heart race- honed canines all on display. “Well buck up, brat.” He taps the side of your hips - and too late does it register as a signal to fuck your hips back down onto his pummeling ones. Funneling your cunt so fucking tight with all his inches. “Because if it takes you this long ta take me regularly, then we might just be here all night trying to get you to take…heh-”
The hairs on your body raise.
You bite down on your lower lip. “Your…second one?”
Sukuna chuckles. “No.” Reaching upwards - not caring if it’s making your hamstrings scream so deliciously at the stretch - Sukuna leans his sticky forehead against yours n’ kisses your lips. Tongue and all. He finally whispers as he parts, “It’ll be yours.”
And just a few more thrusts, a few more whack-whack-whacks! of his thickened cock reaching your deepest depths possible. He was just so big and his thrusts were just so vicious—you’re floating through a haze of pleasure when you feel it…that cold press of silicone against your precious orifice.
You’re jerking up with a yelp. “Shit- hngh, you’re putting it in now?”
“Hah? Duh.” Sukuna scoffs. “Why? Unless you don’t wish to-”
“I’m just wondering what took you so long.”
Sukuna seems stunned for one second- two. Before the King quickly snaps out of it to pleasure the sopping line of your cunt with his silicone dildo—“Dirty girl.”
Because what’d intrigued you the most on his profile was one thing: double penetration. And Ryomen Sukuna took it seriously—he’d slathered that impressive size - molded after himself, he’d told you - with a passion fruit-scented lube before starting to crown it at your entrance. The very same pussy he was stuffed in, too.
His cock throbs away wildly inside you as Sukuna squeezes- and squeezes. And you wince at the mixture of pain and pleasure - that utterly wiiiiiild stretch making your mind dazed. “Keep going.” You beg. “P-please- keep going, Kuna—”
“Kuna?” You can’t tell if he’s feigning outrage or he’s serious. He tugs your body into his- using one of your lingerie straps. “How ridiculous- fuck, and just for that- don’t expect me to go easy on ya, brat.”
And then it’s both. At the same time.
He started off nicely—surprisingly. He started off just shuffling his thick, throbbing cock behind and stuffing the orifice of your cunt with the purple-colored dildo. He started off so-
And then you’d gotten just a tad too mouthy and Sukuna’s letting the globular, slick-glazed edge of the dildo rover all over - aaaaaall around the first ring of your entrance, and then smearing apart your channel to search for your sweet spots inside. Competing - fucking competing - with his own cock to massage your spots the best. It takes one hand clawed onto your hip n’ pinning you down with all his weight to actually squirm the dildo inside you.
Shivers run down Sukuna’s spine as he feels his sensitive shaft rub against the firm silicone. Uuuuuuup rubbin’ his skin against the material. And down. Uuuuup and down. Uuuuup and down.
Fucking you twice over.
Such looooong and lecherous slides of your overstuffed pussy- “Look at her go.” The King drags you back using a strappy ribbon from your lingerie, glances down and snickers. “She’s just so hungry, huh?”
“C-can feel you all the way in my throat.” You whimper.
“That’s nothing, wait till you feel me in your cervix.”
And he’s bottoming out. Twice.
“Fuck, how I’m glad you found me.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - INFINITY% MATCH?!
Dr. Ieiri Shoko sits before you in her office, and she looks as though she wished she was doing anything but.
Now, you’re sure this wasn’t anything personal - after all, you’ve met with Dr. Shoko for numerous appointments prior, and each time she’d been cordial if not nice. You’ve filled out all your forms. You haven’t been late to an appointment. You made sure during each appointment to be open-minded and thoughtful about your potential matches.
So…what?
What could have happened in the thirty-six hours between your last appointment (six passes that day) and the sudden frantic phone call you’d gotten this morning regarding the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT? You’d rushed over - still half-asleep and attempting to tug on your pants - as soon as you could, sure that perhaps today would be the day you find your perfect match and-
“Ehem- today is the day you’ll be looking over your perfect match.” Ah- what? Still jolted by Dr. Shoko’s sudden change in demeanor, it takes a second for the excitement to hit you.
You gasp. “Seriously? A perfect match?”
“Well…perfect would be overselling it…” She mutters to herself- and then catches your look of confusion. “Ah- mathematically and scientifically, the numbers are perfect of course. A 99.99% match.”
“Then, what seems to be…”
“It just seems that your match is a little-” Dr. Shoko waves her hands in the air, searching for the word.
“Eccentric?”
“No.”
“Odd?”
“No.”
“Crazy.”
“Almost.” She sighs, looking far more exhausted than the last time you saw her. Far more exhausted. The bluish splotches beneath her eyes crinkle as she grimaces, “Apologies. I’m not that good at describing Lovecraftian monsters.”
You chuckle- before you realize. “Wait, what?”
“But—onto the profiles, we don’t have all day and I have about thirty more appointments.” She shoots you a look. “And none of them above 60%, I fear.” Then turning towards her second door - the one connecting her office to one of the building’s laboratories - she calls. “You can come out now!”
The door clicks open immediately- as if whoever was on the other side had been waiting impatiently to be called, fidgeting, hand already on the door handle.
And in walks a tall, white-haired man—although he couldn’t have been more than thirty or so, wearing a sterile white scientist’s coat and thin-rimmed glasses. There were a few Digimon stickers on his shoes, and his name tag read: PROF. GOJO SATORU.
He was cute- you had to give him that.
Dr. Shoko takes one look at your face and sighs.
You’re immediately straightening up. “E-erm, hello.” And the man bows rapidly- sputtering out greetings and introductions a mile a minute, that you don’t even catch them. “Ah…I believe you have my match profile?”
The other woman smacks her forehead. “He is your match profile.”
You gape. “What?”
Gojo practically beams- fuck, he really was too cute. He immediately reaches over and grasps your hand—then unabashedly kisses the back of it. Such a loud mwah! “Your pleasure to meet me, sweetheart.”
From the corner of your vision, you see Dr. Shoko download a resignation letter template. “Please…you’re all he’s been talking about for the past two days-”
“Like a true romantic~” Gojo trills.
“-pass on him and put us all out of our misery…please. I beg of you.”
You look at the miserable Shoko- and then you look at Gojo.
.
.
.
“So…” Gojo’s breath sticks to the side of your neck, utterly syrupy, and his cock sticks to the goopy insides of your cunt.
They wouldn’t have been able to pull him out with a wrench, he can tell you that much-
Because you were swallowing him up whole—little mewls leaving the gap between your lips, little dribbles of slick going down the corners of your mouth - ones he’s nearing towards and licking right off your face. Gojo’s chunky glasses crush against the side of your temple. His fingers dig deeper into your soft flesh. “-it seems I have fallen victim to my own creation.”
Gojo Satoru had you pushed against his clinical desk; it’d been long since Dr. Shoko had wrapped-up your first meeting (and gone to take a lay-down on her examination bed). Meanwhile Gojo had valiantly volunteered to give you ‘an insightful and educational’ tour around the laboratories.
The first place he took you to was his private office.
…The first place he took you to, neither of you could keep your hands off each other.
“Th-the program?” You’re babbling. Your hands grasp the edge of his desk- a plumage of documents soar upwards as you’re struggling and failing a few times- he was just fucking you so good. “How are you falling victim—”
“Because when I wanted to figure out a way to lose my virginity, I didn’t expect it to be this good—!” Gojo bursts out in confession. And you’re feeling the full impact of his statement- and the rough slam of his cockhead against the back of your pussy.
“S-so this was all…” Your mouth gapes - and you’re not quite sure whether it was because of the sudden confession, or the increasing force of his hips. “-a scheme to pop your cherry?!”
“Erm, actually- I wouldn’t say scheme—” Gojo huffs. Those thick-framed glasses of his kept sliding down his nose due to the force of his thrusts, and he was smearing his pretty face against your shoulder to keep pushing it up. “I am- was a virgin, heh…”
He takes a glance down at where the two of you were sloppily connected - those swollen folds of yours spread so wiiiiiide open around his long cock - and instantly, he’s hypnotized.
For a beat.
Two.
“—Satoru.” Honestly- you have to give him a good clench to snap him back to his senses. Otherwise you’re sure he would’ve kept funneling you full of his cock until one or both of your bodies gave out—he just seemed addicted. Tingling with desire. He wanted you. He needed you.
Every single second he was reeling his hips back- Gojo was angry just until he could rover his thickened inches back inside n’ bash your very cervix. Again. And again. And again and again.
And Gojo’s pushing his glasses up with a huff. “What if I was having a telepathic conversation with your pussy?”
You gape. “Shoko’s right, you’re crazy-”
“Yeah yeah-” He sighs as if he’s heard that one before. Many, many times. With a roll of those blue eyes, Gojo keeps explaining - not slowing down for a single split-second. “I was a virgin with too much time between my extra credits and three honors degrees, okay? So instead of being a lunatic and going out to actually meet people, I did what any sane person would do…”
“Create the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT-”
“I created the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT!” It was almost…cute just how passionate he was getting. And it certainly helped that the more excited he got, the more his twitchin’ tip splurged out precum. Flinching it into all sorts of little hidden spots inside you—“A cutting-edge matchmaking system that pairs partners’ sexual proclivities-”
He leans against you- and it feels like a furnace, in the best way. Gojo’s blushing cheek against yours. Gojo’s aching cock against your cunt.
He’s scouring the silken depths of your cunt and ramming into that one spot- “The Gräfenberg spot.” Gojo titters to himself. “Erm- I did my reading…” By now he wasn’t even pulling his hips off of yours- glued to those stinging ass cheeks of yours, he’s plasterin’ every nook inside you with his precum. “And the fact that we’re a near-100% match must mean one thing—”
Gojo cums from pure excitement.
He cums from pure excitement. White-hot pouring into the depths of your cunt, slathering it in an oily layer of his cum.
You almost don’t dare to ask. “And wh-what does that mean?”
“That next I must make a pregnancy program!”
Too caught up in the moment; the two of you don’t register the light buzz of your phone.
A text from Shoko.
A/N. IDK why working on their profiles was so unserious shsdhsd-
𝜗𝜚 It’s been a while since you and Megumi let Yuji into your bedroom, and you’d just loveee to watch it happen all over again. But you want to get involved this time, too- even if Megumi can’t quite handle it all. How cute!
pairing: Megumi x reader x Yuji
content: smut, itafushi x reader, threesomes, prone bone, blowjobs, exhibitionism/voyuerism (sort of), reader instructs them both, mattress humping, talking Megumi through it, cooing, praise, pet names, mommy kink, men crying, full nelsons, riding Megumi as Yuji fucks him, pathetic Megumi, brief handjob, multiple orgasms, whimpering, overstimulation, lowk dumbification, threeway kisses, nippleplay, aftercare
wc: 3.4k
more like this | part one
A few weeks later, you all tumble back into your bedroom again. Well, not exactly that easily; you start off at the bar two days before, your glasses clinking merrily as liquor swirls below cold chunks of ice and the ostentatiously large slice of lime Yuji insisted he wanted on the side of the drinks, to which Megumi had promptly taken his citrusy garnish off and avoided eye contact with you both when you teased him for it. If he blushed, neither of you said anything.
You get drunk quicker than either of them, courtesy of the cocktails you’ve been throwing back and insisting they taste more like juice than alcohol- rookie mistake, really, because it leads to them both holding you up as you stagger back home. Your heels click on the pavement, rainwater from the evening before splashing happily onto everybody's shoes as the two men help you walk in what could barely be classified as a straight line. “Wow, you’re both reallyyy strong.” You giggle, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend who just sighs softly in response. “Come on,” Megumi murmurs, tugging at your (his, really) jacket. “Let me put you to bed, okay?”
You stare at him for a second, something gleeful glinting in your eyes that makes Yuji curious and Megumi downright flustered. “Why don’t you…” you say, pointing drunkenly at your dark-haired boyfriend as he leads you to your couch, “let Yuji put you to bed? If you know what I mean.” You snort, laughing hysterically and falling back into Yuji’s awaiting biceps. He holds you helplessly, and they both stare at each other for a long, long second as you sway and then just keep talking.
“Seriously, I really liked watching you both fuck. It was great.” You sigh wistfully, eyes drooping. “We should all do it again some time.”
Then you promptly manage to pass out on the couch, heels still dangling from your feet, and leave them to gape at each other.
“I mean…” Megumi mutters, rubbing his neck, “if she wants to, I… wouldn’t mind.”
Yuji beams cheerily, casually, like somebody just told him he’s getting a lifetime supply of free movie tickets and not a threesome with his best friend and his girlfriend. “Sure, I’m in!”
So, here you are. And Megumi might look even prettier than last time. His poor, flushed face is shoved into the pillows as he fights to keep his eyes open, his leaky cock rubbing up against the sheets below as he moans like.. well, like a bit of a slut, if you're being honest.
“Fuck, Yuji.” He groans, dropping his face like he’s embarrassed for you to see his lips create the syllables required for his friend’s name. Yuji smiles and fucks into him harder, that little pink trail of hair shimmering in a terribly lewd mixture of sweat and lube and precum from where you’d politely asked Megumi if he could suck Yuji’s dick.
“I-“ he’d frozen, already shirtless. “If- if that’s what you want?” He gulps breathlessly.
“I do.” You’d responded breathlessly, “please, just once. Wanna see what you look like with his dick in your mouth.”
Megumi chokes on his own shuttering breath, while Yuji just shrugs and happily plopps himself down on the edge of the bed with his naked thighs spread wide open. Megumi slowly, very slowly, sinks down to his pale knees on the carpet, face blushing furiously as you excitedly watch him tug down Yuji's boxers until his throbbing cock springs out at twitches against his stomach, so heavy it almost droops.
His mouth stretches around Yuji’s cock, even just the thick tip pushing his pretty lips wider, and Yuji whines high like a puppy. “Oh, fuck, your mouth is so warm, Megumi.” He whinges, settling back on his arms as he plants a large, tanned hand into Megumi’s dark hair.
Megumi huffs around Yuji’s sticky length and sucks harder, bobbing his head down until his sharp nose is almost brushing the coral-pink curls at Yuji’s silken base. “Oh my god, you look so fucking hot.” You breathe, crouching down to Megumi’s eye level just to watch up close. Which, yes, is obviously perverted- but you don’t even feel bad when you see how there’s pre and saliva building at the corners of your boyfriend's mouth, moaning around Yuji’s cock.
Somehow, you end up being in charge of the whole situation in entirety. Megumi lets you anyway, gone as soon as he lets himself slip into that little space in his brain when he’s faced with being so sexually vulnerable. Yuji follows all your instructions like a well trained dog, sweaty and panting but beaming like the sun whenever he follows an order correctly.
“Like this, right?” He pants, thrusting so deep into Megumi that his lean body shudders up the bed and the headboard taps harshly against the wall. “Yeah, like that.” You reply back, perched in the corner on a plush chair with your knees tucked to your chest like you’re watching a movie and not your boyfriend getting pummelled on the bed by another man. “Good boy, Yu.”
Yuji laughs and keeps going, ruining Megumi with every harsh stroke his tip manages to brush past. The noise of his tanned hips meeting Megumi’s ass is loud and abrasive but oh-so good, the crude sound mixing with Megumi’s whimpers and your own heavy breathing as your skin heats up merely watching.
That’s all you’re doing for now, just watching. You aren’t touching either of them, and you can tell it’s driving Megumi insane- having you right there, so soft and beautiful in his blurry eyeline, and you’re not doing anything. Yet you’re managing to ruin him anyway, directing Yuji on just what speed to take, just how hard to thrust.
“Slow down, Yu.”
He obeys, hips coming to a slow roll rather than the relentless pace he was favouring before. "Hnngh-!" Megumi cries out frustratedly into the pillows, his hands curling into clammy fists. You can’t see his face but you know there’s tears in his eyes, and you can’t help the way you walk over to him.
“Hey, baby.” You coo, holding onto his pathetically ruined face with both hands to counteract the way Megumi lets his head rock forwards with every hit he receives from the cock buried inside him. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here.” Your thumb strokes over his cheekbone and he mewls.
“You’re so, so safe with us,” you breathe against his mouth, “you don’t have to hide your face.”
“I- I know.” Megumi shakes out in response, eyes floating around the room like he’s trying to formulate his next words. But he can’t, he’s too susceptible to the way you’re cooing at him and the way Yuji is still fucking him, so his face drops helplessly back into the pillows and his back gently arches forwards as he keeps needily, mindlessly grinding himself into the mattress.
And you can’t have that, can you?
Your hand is still on your boyfriend’s spiky hair when he drops forwards, and when you pull back your touch you hear the way he whimpers in desperate protest, almost agonised at the loss of your touch. He shoves his pelvis harder into the sheets to cope, to gain more feeling, but it just doesn’t work. You frown and step backwards, slowly gazing down at the way his back is curving in on itself like a demolished building.
“Yuji,” you say suddenly, voice low and sweet. “Flip him over.”
“O-okay!”
Megumi almost wails in teary embarrassment when Yuji does so, now straddling him with his back to Yuji’s toned chest. Megumi’s dick looks pained, all stiff and leaky with the tiniest bead of pre pearling saltily at his blushing tip. “No,” he gasps, shoving his lolling head into Yuji’s shoulder in an attempt to stop you from seeing him. “Don’t w-want you to see me like this,” he begs hoarsely, clamping both hands over his mouth to muffle the degenerate whines ripping out of his throat.
He’s dripping all over his happy trail and stomach, the humiliation only serving to push him further into that terrifyingly unfamiliar space that results in him moaning and squirming on Yuji’s lap. You can see the way Megumi’s taking it from here, kneeling in front of them both on the bed. It’s obscene, really, Yuji’s thickness stretching your boyfriend out as he rears his hips backwards and then upwards again. Every time he does that, Megumi gasps and arches forwards like the pleasure is too much for him.
Arches forwards towards you.
You crawl up to your boyfriend on the bed and once again cup his pretty face. “You deserve this, Megumi.” You say quietly, thumbing at his tears. “I wish you could see how perfect you look right now, you’re doing so so so well for us both. Aren’t you?”
When you don’t receive a response, Megumi’s eyes still screwed up in embarrassment, you sigh sadly. “Hey, open your eyes. It’s just me, it’s just me.” You murmur, coaxing him to look at you by pressing gentle kisses to his face and neck, even spattering a few over his sensitive chest.
His eyes open slowly, long eyelashes fluttering rapidly like a butterfly. You smile. “So good. You’re our good boy, right?” Megumi chokes and lolls his hand into your touch, pressing it into your palm like you’ll offer salvation if he tries hard enough. “Say it, yeah?”
“I’m- fuck- I can’t.” He mutters lucidly, sweat beading at his temples. “I can’t say it, I c-can’t-“
“You can.” You soothe. You look at Yuji, and Yuji looks back at you. You both decide silently it’s better if you handle this one alone, and let Yuji stick to silently fucking him. Or, as silent as he can get, little moans slipping out every so often he has to bite his lip to contain.
“You can.” You repeat firmly, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock. Megumi heaves a groan and bucks into your fist as you slowly begin to pull at his overstimulated length, the veins rubbing softly over your fingers. “I’m- I’m your good boy.” He breathes finally, sobbing it out through tears.
“I’m so proud of you, my sweet baby. I love you, Megumi.”
“Fuck-“ he cums, your thumb rolling over his tip. Yuji moans and gasps behind him, pace stuttering- white floods the bedsheets below Megumi as it drips out of him, deposited in there by Yuji, or out of his own needy cock that’s still twitching against his stomach even after the orgasm. “Good boys,” you comfort both of them, even leaning forwards to press a quick peck to Yuji’s forehead he smiles dumbly at.
“Could you go again, Yuji?” You ask, cradling Megumi’s head. “Yeah, definitely!” He smiles, gently stroking back and forth on Megumi’s hips.
You know Megumi can take another orgasm, he’s taken many more than two in one night before, leaving himself in a messy puddle with your panties wrapped around his base or your pussy clenching around him. But you still have to ask. “Megs,” you whisper softly to him, “could you take another? For me?” Your response is a lucid nod against your chest.
Now, the real question. You tuck yourself in next to Yuji’s ear and whisper so quietly you’re surprised he can’t hear it at all. “Yuji, could you handle my weight and Megumi’s at the same time? If we were both on you?”
“Yeah!” He nods vigorously, almost happy he gets to show off his strength. “I don’t work out for nothing!”
“Good.” You smile, crawling back off the bed. You shimmy your shorts, shirt, and absolutely soaked panties off until you’re just in your lacy bra. Megumi’s favourite, even if he’d never admit it out loud- black and cute, the lace cupping your tits perfectly as a little bow sits between the cups. You fix the strap where it’s been twisted by Megumi’s sobbing into your shirt earlier, then stalk over to the bed.
Megumi’s eyes have been shut this whole time, or at the very least only fixed hazily on his own throbbing cock. But when he feels the sheets dip in front of him, he looks up and moans. “You’re so pretty,” he says lucidly, eyes half shut. “Fuck, mmph, you’re so h-hot.”
He whimpers loudly as you straddle him, soft thighs he adores so much either side of his hips. Yuji spreads his legs out further, but ensures Megumi’s are still loosely contained in the middle so you have room. Your knees land on the downy sheets between their thighs, sandwiched between broad and tanned and lean and pale. But god, you love it so much.
“O-oh, ohmygod, fuckkk-“ he sobs as you sink down. Your cunt wraps so warmly, so softly around his cock it feels like a homecoming and Megumi breaks into your shoulder, tears wetting the skin. “Mommy, fuck-“
“Aw, baby, don’t cry.” You whisper, kissing him slowly. Your lips meet in a caring tangle of spit and tongue, meshing against each other in the way that only comes from sheer depravity meeting sheer need. Spit strings and clings to your mouths as you moan into it, stroking Megumi’s hair comfortingly as he gasps.
His whimpers crack apart in your ears like he can’t help it, and it fuels you. Your pussy hugs him tightly, gently, like you’ve wanted this since the moment he licked at Yuji’s cock and you watched him struggle to take it all in his throat. “Mommy…” he manages to choke out again, “love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Yuji’s trembling behind Megumi, attempting with all his might to fight the urge to fuck upwards as Megumi clenches around him. “Yuji,” you laugh softly when you’re all the way down, “you can move now. We can take it.”
“Oh thank god.” He groans, thrusting his hips.
Megumi almost screams. It’s a high, pitchy, broken sound that echoes from the very back of his worn-out throat and hits your veins like a shot of heroin, something addictive you’ll never be able to forget even after this is all over. You bounce harder, grinding and rolling your skilled hips over his wildly overstimulated cock until he’s actually sobbing, actually choking out thick tears into the air of the room.
The pleasure is unbearable, blinding his eyes. You on his cock, pussy hugging him warmly, Yuji shoved up inside him and tracing filthy little patterns over his sweet spots. It’s too much, just too much, and the way he starts babbling nonsense proves it.
“You feel so fucking good around me,” he cries out into your tits, his mouth mindlessly wetting the lace. “Your tits are so fucking pretty, I’d stay here f-forever…” he trails off, letting his mouth latch onto one of your nipples through the fabric. You gasp and arch, shoving your chest further into his needy lips.
“Oh fuck,” Yuji chimes in. “He’s- he’s really tight when you do that, when he sucks your tits. He must l-like it a lottttt-“ he slurs, pink hair sticking to his skin. You laugh, high and broken, so infused with moans it’s barely even a giggle but a short broken huff of breath. “Yeah. Fuck yeah he does.”
You manage to reach a shaking hand up to Yuji’s head, where he’s resting back against the headboard, sitting back and enjoying the show like he isn’t an active participant. He cranes into your touch obediently, and you lean forwards until your mouth is attached to his and Yuji moans against your lips.
His tongue is different to Megumi’s, active and intense and strong in the way it traces your teeth and claims the spit inside your mouth. Megumi figures out what’s happening, your tits now pressed into his chest, and wraps his arms around your waist.
“Fuck, Megs, come here-“ you mewl, grabbing a fistful of spiky hair and pulling him inwards. The kiss that ensues is the lewdest thing you’ve ever experienced in your whole life.
Your tongues all shove together, active pink muscles fighting for space and time leading the kiss, three types of spit and Yuji’s leftover pre from Megumi’s mouth mixing and dripping; dribbling down your chins and necks and your soft tits that Megumi is still somehow managing to grope even like this.
Your nipples are sore from all his suckling at the damp lace rubbing across your tits. But it feels amazing when they rub harshly up against his chest as the kiss continues, fingers tugging at hair and fluid spilling everywhere. There's slick from you, slippery and soaking Megumi's base, your own thighs burning and glossed. There's cum from both Megumi and Yuji, thick stickiness that dribbles out and mixes obscenely on everybody's hot skin.
You’re still bouncing, grinding your clit furiously against your fingers until your muscles spasm through your entire body and you see stars. Poor, sensitive and pathetic Megumi almost appears to pass out when you cum around him, raking deep lines into your back where he hugs you tightly and gasps.
“That’s it, baby-“ you manage to choke out through your own orgasm, blindly shuddering and clenching. “That’s it, let it all out, be a good b-boy-“
Megumi shatters in a mess of tears and wispy cum when you say it like that, pumping so much into you it slips out of you in creamy, filthy rivulets. And then Yuji cums, somehow managing to tug you both forwards with his strong arms just barely wrapped around you.
It pushes you deeper on Megumi’s overstimulated cock and pushes Megumi deeper onto Yuji’s overstimulated cock, cum leaking from both of you now as Yuji firmly fills your boyfriend up with him still inside you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck,” Yuji gasps, “you’re both so hot, oh my goddd, fuck-“
You all lie like that in a tangled, sweaty, sticky mess for a good ten minutes as you regain something that feels close to consciousness. “Wow,” Yuji says first, his voice somehow hoarse and rejuvenated at the same time. “That was even better than the last time we did that. Wasn’t it?” He asks you excitedly.
You smile and press a tired, affectionate peck to his arm. “Mhm.”
And then you all softly roll over, Megumi still tightly pressed between you both. When Yuji pulls out with a soft 'schlick' noise, Megumi gasps softly against your tits at the sudden emptiness. “Shh, s’okay.” You kiss his forehead, still joined at the hips with him, and tuck him into your body more.
“Yu, do you wanna use our shower?” You ask casually, petting Megumi’s head to bring him back from that little space inside his head. “You can use all our stuff, knock yourself out.”
“Cool!” He grins, like he’s already eyeing up the vanilla-scented bodywash you told him about last month in his head. “Do you wanna watch a movie after? I could make popcorn for us all-“
“I’d love that.” You say happily, “go pick after your shower.”
When you and Megumi finally get into the bathroom after Yuji, it smells of vanilla (as to be expected) and there’s a soft cloud of steam hazing over you both. Shampoo foams on your hands as you work it into his scalp, white bubbles overtaking the dark spikes that still refuse to lie quite flat even under the spray. He returns the favour, warm water drifting down your hair as his pale fingers softly lather it against your head.
It’s an unspoken post-sex ritual between you, a way to ground yourselves. Even more so as Megumi (slightly limping and dazed) gets out of the shower, tugging a shirt and sweats on as you both walk into the living room to greet Yuji. You steal a handful of popcorn, and then the tv remote.
Somewhere during the film, Megumi drifts off asleep with his head on your thighs while Yuji takes it upon himself to quietly slip out, waving you an enthusiastic goodbye with wet hair and his skin smelling of your own bodywash.
The apartment smells of vanilla and popcorn and just a little of sex, but Megumi Fushiguro doesn’t think he’s ever slept better than curled up on your lap with your fingers combing through his hair.
masterlist
a/n: I’ve wanted to write a longer part two for sooo long, I hope I did it justice! :p
"I'm not saying you don't know how to fuck your girl, Fushiguro."
Your boyfriend takes a long toke of his cigarette, leaning back in the plush armchair facing the hotel bed. He blows smoke towards the two of you, his eyes narrowing. "Sure fuckin' sounds like it."
You roll your eyes. Even as he watches his girl getting fucked by his best friend, he's got a mouth on him. Any other man would be humbled by such a sight — Toji just stares.
He's hard. you can see the fabric of his sweats straining at the crotch, even from where you lay pressed into the bed. If Shiu weren't fucking you so deeply, you might be able to take a breath, focus your eyes, and discern whether or not that dark patch over Toji's groin is from his leaking pre, or if it's just a trick of the light.
"I'm just saying—" Shiu slows the snapping of his hips and transitions instead into a rolling motion that is more soothing than it is erotic. I'ts good; you like it. You could fall asleep like this, full of cock, the weighted blanket of his body on top of yours. "—you fuck to fuck. I fuck to connect."
Toji snorts from his chair, like he's in a position to puff his chest out. "I'd already be inside of her. No need to connect."
He's certainly not a romantic. Shiu groans, pushing himself nice and deep as he presses a sweet kiss to your neck.
One of his hands (rough, but not mean like Toji’s) snakes down your body in search of your clit. It’s still sensitive from the half-hour of head he warmed you up with, so he’s gentle when he starts circling the pad of his finger around your nerves. You find yourself gasping, hiccuping as air fills your lungs, and moaning as it leaves.
“You hear that?” Shiu glances over his shoulder to Toji, who now looks a little less cocksure than before. He’s restless, adjusting himself in his pants and spreading his knees to make room for the heavy erection he’s sporting. “She sound like this with you?”
Toji rolls his neck, feigning arrogance. “Nope. She’s louder with me.”
He’s not wrong. Toji often has you screaming into the pillow as he drags his fat cock in and out of you. Pounds you, for lack of romance. You like how he’s rough and dirty and strong in how he handles you; but there’s something about the attention Shiu is giving you that makes you dizzy with pleasure.
Shiu ignores Toji from there on. His eyes rove over your face, as do his lips. He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead as he fucks you — his moustache tickly against your skin. It’s damp with your arousal, and you can’t help but wonder if he’ll smell you on his lips later tonight and remember how you tasted.
Of course he will.
The cigarette smoke that lingers in the air fills your lungs, and you turn your head in your haze to find your boyfriend has the waist band of his sweats lowered beneath his balls. His cock is out, but not free — the tight grip he has it in looks near painful. He strokes in time with Shiu’s thrusts into you, taking into account each time he slows to pull back and look at the mess of need you must be.
“Don’t look at me,” he grumbles when he notices your eyes on him. “You wanted this. Look at him.”
You feel like you’ve been caught red-handed, drooling over the sight of him fisting his leaky cock, but Shiu kisses your cheek and leans down to whisper in your ear before you can break your gaze away. “Don’t listen to him. He’s imagining he’s me. Keep watching him, let him know he’s only half the reason you’re this wet right now.”
Your skin warms. Despite Toji’s order, you keep watching him. A gentle flush, one that is so unlike your Toji, paints his face pink. He’s got his lip caught between his teeth, holding a groan in his muscled chest as he watches you and Shiu. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you were being fucked silly, on your hands and knees like a whore — but no, Shiu is practically making love to you.
Your lips part as you watch your boyfriend experience a surge of a million different feelings. Questions he isn’t sure he wants answered; do you prefer the stretch of Shiu’s cock to his? Do you like being worshipped like this? Will you say yes if he asks to make this a regular thing?
“I love you,” falls from your lips in a shaky moan. Though you say it softly, as if to meet only Shiu’s ears, your eyes are still on Toji. “Love how you feel inside of me.”
Toji’s eyes widen. His hand jerks faster, hips buck up a little from that self-made prison of an armchair. He doesn’t know if you’re talking to him or Shiu, and it’s about to send him over the edge. A part of him wants to leap up and pull Shiu off you; fill you with his own cock instead and flood your womb with his release. Another part of him wants to get behind Shiu and fuck into him; let him be the vessel between you that gets to know exactly how the two of you merge to ‘make love’. He’d fuck him deep and mean justs to get the message through to you.
But, the part of him that wants to keep his ass planted to the cuck chair and watch his girl take the load of his best friend wins out.
“I’m gonna fucking—” he cracks, choking on his words as his hips stutter and cum shoots all over himself. His black shirt is soaked in the stuff, his fist covered, but he doesn’t stop.
Shiu pays him no mind. It’s hard when you feel this good, wrapped around his cock for the first, and likely only, time in his life. He’s dreamt of this, convincing Toji to share his score — he is his handler, after all.
You want to come, but Shiu is taking his time bringing you to the peak. Usually Toji would just hike a hand around you and rub you ‘til you beg for mercy. Shiu, however, seems to like the way you squirm beneath him as he paws at your thighs, pushes them up against your body, and folds you into a mating press.
The new depth he reaches inside of you is torturous. You feel so full, yet so unsated at the same time. You wonder how well you’d take them both; whether you’d stretch out to accommodate two cocks at once or if one would have to fill your mouth instead. You want to crawl over to Toji and lick his cock clean, taste something from him as you’re so full of another man.
Another glance over at your boyfriend rewards you with the sight of his screwed-up face. His eyes are set on the spot Shiu fucks into you, and he strokes himself into overstimulation. Seems he won’t be left out for even a moment.
“Fuck,” Shiu’s hips slam forward, skin slapping against skin in a heated rhythm. His chest heaves, and you can tell he’s about to cum — even with how overwhelmed your pussy is, you can feel him twitching inside. “I’m close.”
“Not inside,” Toji growls from his seat. That was his only rule going into this. That, and no butt stuff. Toji reserves your womb and ass for himself.
“I know, asshole,” Shiu grunts. His eyes roam your face once more with a soft (but elastic tight) smile on his face. “Want you to come first. On my cock; I’ll pull out after, okay?”
You can hardly nod. Once again, his fingers come down on your clit, wedged tightly between your moving bodies. He circles it, quick but gentle, and sends you absolutely dizzy with pleasure. You know Toji is still stroking himself as he watches you come undone; and you know he’s probably going to pull another orgasm or two out of you tonight to repair his ego. Your poor cunt.
Your orgasm washes over you quickly, and with enough pressure to force a loud, crying moan from your chest. Your legs shake, eyes squeezing shut as your head spins. You haven’t felt this good in… ever.
Not just because of Shiu; but knowing Toji is watching.
Your climax sends Shiu careening over the edge. He’s quick to pull out, leaving you feeling absolutely lost in your emptiness. He gives his cock a squeeze, as if to stall his orgasm, and looks you over hungrily before… pulling away?
Instead of shooting over your stomach or across your pretty face, Shiu leaps off the bed and makes his way over to Toji, whose eyes are wide as his best friend approaches. He’s not given much time to react before Shiu is taking the back of his head in one hand and feeding the tip of his cock past his lips with the other. Toji chokes on his surprise, and then on the load that Shiu releases into his mouth with a loud groan.
Instinctively, he spits. Rivulets of cum drip from his lips, down his chin, and join the mess of his own cum on his stomach and cock. His eyes are wide, a little angry, but his surprise doesn’t stop Shiu from pulling back and leaning down to catch your boyfriend's lips in a very messy kiss. Cum and spit is passed between them, paired with loud groans that travel right from them to your still-buzzing clit.
You watch from the bed with wide eyes, having just discovered something very interesting about yourself.
You wonder if they’ll let you sit in the cuck chair next.
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚： ♡ friendships can be hard, especially when the lines are so blurry you can't tell where the both of you stand. so what do you do when you catch feelings on top of all that?
cw ⤷ 𖥻 . ˖ ꒰ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊 ꒱ . smut . pwp . swearing . making out . annoying drunk stranger . fingering . dirty talk . marking . titty worship . piv . clit slapping . c pie . geto fucks mean . geto is a TEASE . multiple o's . oversim . f!reader . s/her prns . no use of y/n ♯ 11.9k
Being friends with Geto Suguru isn’t hard… in theory but in practice it’s one of the most difficult things you’ve ever had to do. It’s especially difficult because he does things for you that feel like they’re pushing the boundaries of a normal friendship without actually doing anything weird.
Things like his insistence on bringing things for you when you’re feeling down, showing you extra care in how he talks to you, hanging out with you and having frequent movie nights, being attentive to your needs. While those things are innocuous in theory, it’s the way he treats you, talks to you and how it makes you feel that has your friendship feeling like it’s on a precarious ledge. Caught between pulling back or pushing over.
Sighing, your foot kicks at his sitting form. “Don’t you have something better to do tonight?”
“Like what?” His eyebrow raises at you, eyeing your lazy form that’s all spread out comfortably on your couch.
You’d maybe feel bad for taking up the whole couch if you weren’t so comfortable. “I don’t know, like a date? Hanging with friends? Going out on the town or whatever youths do.”
“Firstly, I’m older than you—”
Interjecting to add, “—Not by much!”
He only rolls his eyes, ignoring your interruption all together. “To your other points, I’m not interested in dating, and I am hanging out with a friend.”
Sighing louder than last time, foot pushing him enough to sway him. “Aren’t you bored of me?”
“No?” His brows pinch together in confusion. “Should I be?” Hand grabbing your foot to stop it from kicking at him.
You pout, trying to pull yourself free of his grip. “I don’t know…”
“Don’t say stupid things,” he huffs, amused by your struggle. “I could ask you the same thing you know.”
“I like hanging out with you,” you grumble at him.
“Yeah, well, I feel the same.” Finally letting go of your foot.
You’re feeling restless, he’s your friend, you know he’s your friend, and yet you can’t help hoping that your friendship is just a little bit more special. You groan and kick at him with both your feet.
“Woah, hey!” Both his hands grab at your ankles, pinning them down into the couch. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”
“I’m annoyed.”
“I’ve taken notice.” He’s trapping you with a pointed look, waiting for more of an explanation from you.
If you had an explanation, you’d freely give it to him but as of right now, you aren’t even sure if you’re aware of what you’re feeling enough to verbalise it to him. You deflate, looking back at him sheepishly. “I know you want to know what’s wrong, but I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Or you don’t want me to know?”
Pushing yourself up, you cock your head at him. “The result is the same despite my answer, no?”
“No,” his is tone resolute. “I could help.”
You deliver a very plain, “You can’t.” He’s the cause of your confusion, talking to him could make it all so much worse and you don’t really want to deal with the fallout of all that.
“Woah, awful dismissive of me, I might be able to easily fix what’s wrong.”
Turning so you’re facing the screen, you try to focus on the films plot. “You can fix what’s wrong right now by being quiet and watching the movie.”
“I was watching the movie, you distracted me.” He pokes lightly at your shoulder.
Shushing at him quickly, “Shut, I’m trying to listen.”
He doesn’t say anything more, just goes back to watching the movie in silence, probably following the plot better than you are because you’re sat closer to him like this and can’t help but sneak glances at him.
It’s not fair, he looks pretty like this. Face illuminated by the soft glow of the television, seemingly entranced by the movie playing. While gazing over his features, you find yourself constantly looking back at his lips, heart stuttering in your chest. You wonder how kissing him would feel like, would it help, wait.
Prying your eyes off him, you desperately hope to be shown some kind of mercy. You shouldn’t want to kiss him, you shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him. You need to get a hold of yourself.
Predictably, you are not shown any kind of mercy and all you can manage to think about is him. How soft his lips might be, how he would kiss you, would he be tentative… or would he kiss you like he’s done it a million times before.
Not even realising you’re staring at him again until he sighs and locks his eyes onto yours. “Are you aware you’re staring at me?”
Trying to play it cool by answering, “I wasn’t staring.”
“Are you alright?” He’s growing a little concerned by your unusual behaviour tonight.
“I’m fine! Good even, just… have some things on my mind.” You feel guilty.
“And just what exactly are these things you’re thinking about?”
Your skin flares at his question, feeling embarrassed by your own thoughts. “Nothing! General thoughts… you know…”
“Right…” He’s clearly sceptical, not believing your flimsy answers for even a second. “Have I done something to upset you?”
He’s too much for you right now, you try answering confidently but fail miserably. “No?”
Moving so his body is facing you, he gets into your space, worried by your answer. “Why don’t you sound sure?”
“Why are you asking me so many questions tonight?” You avoid his gaze, flustered by him suddenly being so close to you. Still thinking about his lips on yours, in the back of your head thinking about his hands on your body.
“You’re being weird, I’m just concerned.” His hand reaches for your face. “Do you have a fever or something?” His knuckles rest on your cheek, gauging your temperature.
“Seriously, I’m fine.” You’re fumbling more than you want to, eyes rounded and shocked looking into his.
It feels like you grow warmer the longer his hand stays on your face, it’s becoming difficult to think. If you had a good reason, you would kick him out right now but you’re already concerning him and you’re trying so hard to be normal. This night is taking a very unfortunate turn.
His face twists, concern written all over it. “You feel a little warm, are you sure you’re okay?” Hand slipping from your cheek, moving to rest against the back of the couch.
Trying to keep your answers short, you give a simple, “I’m sure.”
Geto doesn’t know where to go from here, his silence is evidence of that. You don’t blame him though because you’re not really sure where to go from here either, the thoughts of his lips on yours linger in your mind and you feel as if you could die.
“I just…” He looks to you when you start talking, ready to hear whatever it is you have to say, “I was just thinking – and don’t make this weird – but I was thinking about… how you would kiss me…” your words trail off slightly, growing quieter and quieter with each word.
His eyes widen slightly in response before he switches back to his neutral expression. “I—”
“—I don’t wanna know, don’t talk actually,” you cut him off abruptly. Too embarrassed to dissect this any further and certainly not willing to have a conversation with him about it, already regretting having admitted to thinking it.
He questions you, clearly caught between being entertained and somewhat concerned, “I’m not allowed to comment?”
“No.”
“Even though you’ve been thinking about how I would—”
Hurriedly moving your hand to cover his mouth, hissing out, “Shush!”
You’re closer like this, the proximity flustering you, the silence awkward. Suguru glares at you from under your hand. He has something to say and is showing clear disdain for your repeated interruptions.
His larger hand reaches up and wraps around your wrist, trying to gently pry your hand away but you hold steady. Growing frustrated with this little tug of war game you have going on, he uses more force to pull your hand down, grabbing your other hand as well. Restraining them both in your lap to keep you still.
Exasperated when he asks, “Don’t you think you’re overreacting slightly?”
“No.” You tug back on his grip but get nowhere.
“Why are you annoyed at me over this? They’re your thoughts,” he reminds.
You’re irritated with how right he is; it’s not his fault you’re thinking like this. Knowing that doesn’t change the fact that sitting right next to him makes it difficult for you to think of anything other than how soft his lips might be, or if he’ll hold you still while he kisses you, or if—
He barks out a quick laugh, “You wanna kiss me that bad?”
Realising you were staring at his lips again you feel like you might spontaneously combust, struggling against his hold and huffing out, “Shut up, just forget I even said anything.”
He sounds restrained and incredibly serious when he murmurs back, “Might not be able to if you keep looking at me like that.”
“Don’t make this even more embarrassing for me, Suguru! It’s your fault,” you accuse indignantly.
Lips quirking evilly, “Oh? So, you want me to fix it then?”
“You should! Take a little responsibility,” you grumble out at him, all pouty and annoyed.
He leans in closer to press you, “Do you want me to kiss you? Do you think it would help?”
“I don’t know… I mean…” You look to his lips again, gaze getting a little lost as you do. You’re a completely helpless cause.
If Suguru were being honest with you, he’d tell you how much you’re killing him when you look at him like that but he’s stubborn and a tease, so instead he says, “Eyes up here.”
Dragging your eyes back to his and staring daggers, completely pissed at him but mostly yourself for being so obvious again. “Do you think it would help?”
“You’d stop wondering,” he shrugs easily, like this is all so incredibly normal and not uncharted territory for the both of you.
“I don’t want this to make our friendship weird.” Feeling pathetic as you look at him, you’re not even sure if what you have together is as simple as a friendship, it feels like so much more. At least, you’re kind of hoping it is, kissing him could do irreparable damage and you don’t just mean in terms of how you act around one another but specifically how you feel about him.
“I won’t let it,” he assures.
“I’m not worried about you…”
He’s taken aback by your small admission, it’s not clear enough for him to make any real conclusions from it or confront you on anything but he knows it makes his heart beat faster and flusters him slightly. In all his years of casual dating and serious relationships, you’re the only person to have ever made him feel like such a fool.
“It’s up to you then,” he smiles softly.
You aren’t sure if it’s worth the risk but if this is the only chance you’ll get then you don’t know if you want to risk letting it go by either. “I think… yes.”
Playing dumb, he returns, “‘Yes’ what?”
Your tone is lowering again, confident answer short lived when he teases you. “Yes… I want you to kiss me…”
“You’re sure?” He asks but his hands are already moving up your body, one resting against the side of your neck, touch gentle and light.
“I mean… I’m not sure if this is a good idea but I’m sure I want you to kiss me.”
He huffs lightly in disbelief, breath tickling against your lips. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”
“You…” Frown dusting your features as you utter it, eyes already focused back on his lips.
He doesn’t say any more after that, faltering in his movements a bit but ultimately moving in completely and pressing his lips to yours delicately. It’s featherlight, kiss shallow and simple, like he’s holding back. It’s still enough to have your head full, full of thoughts of him, of how soft his lips are, how gentle his kisses are.
Geto pulls back all too soon for your liking, putting some distance between the two of you, head tilting to the side as he looks you over. “Curiosity satisfied.”
“Is that really how you would want to kiss me?”
“What?”
At his question you’re suddenly all too aware of how bold yours was. “I just… It’s nothing, sorry.” Fumbling over yourself, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “It was nice! It was a nice kiss.”
“No, no,” he squints at you, “Go on… say what you want.”
It’s quiet for a moment, your hesitance clear. “…Did you… kiss me how you wanted to?”
“I think if I kissed you how I wanted,” pausing to lean in closer, “You might pass out or something.”
“Oh, come on, you’re not my first kiss or anything,” you roll your eyes at him and his ego, “I was just curious, if that’s really how you’d kiss me then that’s all there is to it, it was a nice kiss.” You shrug at him.
“Why am I starting to feel like I’m being assessed?”
“If you feel that way then that’s on you.” Trying so hard to play it cool, like you can’t tell he was holding back, like you don’t want him to kiss you more. “Do you wanna go back in the movie? Rewind to where we were before?”
As you get up to move off the couch and find the remote, Suguru is pulling you back down to him, one hand gently holding the front of your throat. You don’t get a second to think about all the movements he just made, his lips on yours rushed, like he’s suddenly, incredibly desperate to kiss you.
Barely able to keep up with him, head dizzy from the whiplash, this isn’t at all how he kissed you before. You’re basically panting against him when he does pull back, allowing you the small moment to catch your breath.
His thumb pulls down on your chin lightly. “Open your mouth more.” His eyes are lidded as he looks at you, tone deeper than before.
Obeying him wordlessly and then he’s kissing you again, tongue in your mouth. It’s all messy and rushed and has you losing your mind. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he pulls your body closer to his, hand moving to the back of your head.
When he sucks your tongue into his mouth and licks at you, you can’t stop the moan that leaves you. Swallowed down by Geto in an appreciative manner, his kiss lingers for a while longer, making you dizzy and thoughtless. He pulls back from you, connected by a string of saliva that snaps when he licks at his lower lip.
The look on your face is dumbstruck, eyes big and wet as you gaze up at him in a dazed manner. It makes him feel feral, not able to help the way he leans back in and presses more short, sloppy kisses to your swollen lips.
There’s a pause before you can regain your faculties enough to say anything to him and even then, the only thing you can manage is, “I… uhm…”
“Was that better?” He’s trying to be light-hearted about it, but his lips are swollen as well, and his eyes are lidded, and he looks… “You didn’t pass out did you?” His head lowers so his eyes catch yours.
Your brain feels fuzzy and all you can think about is how you’ve never been kissed like that before, that you want to keep being kissed like that. “What? No… I just… wow.”
“Live up to your expectations?”
“I didn’t really have any, I was only curious…” Smiling big at him, you add, “But yeah, maybe even exceeded them.”
“You aiming to boost my ego, or did I really kiss you stupid?” He can’t help the way he leans in again, just shy of your lips.
Mouth on yours before you get to answer or refute what he’s accused, you don’t stop him though, allowing him to kiss you fully, deeply. One of his hands on the side of your face, holding you. The other grips at your hip, almost tugging you in closer.
Before you lose focus again, you part to gasp out, “I don’t know if—” Interrupted by his lips on yours, tangling your hand into his hair to pull him back, he groans at the force of the tug. “Suguru, I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep—”
“—Just another kiss, one more…” breathless when he talks, mouth hot on yours, tongue already in your mouth.
It’s almost too much, he’s so insistent. Kissing you like he might never get to again, like he’s trying to get the most out of this. He might actually have you passing out, it’s not even as if you really want him to stop but that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?
Pulling back, he sucks on your lower lip before nipping at it. The whimper he pulls from you is embarrassing and weak and you’re facing an internal conflict of so many emotions right now, but mostly you’re struck by how badly you want to sleep with him.
You hadn’t realised his hand had snuck under your shirt, warm and large against your side, sending a shiver down your spine. The breathlessness you’re hit with has your skin feeling hot as you try to stumble out your words, “I, uh, think we should stop… here.”
“Why? Am I not a good kisser? Are you not enjoying yourself?” A smile creeps onto his face. “You sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”
“Don’t.” Your head tucks down and onto his chest, forehead resting against him. “Please don’t embarrass me.”
He wraps his arms around your body, embracing you. “Can’t help it.”
You stay like this for probably longer than you should, enjoying the moment too much for someone who’s about to go back to being just his friend.
Geto breaks the silence first, speaking into the top of your head, “Is your curiosity satisfied or are you going to start kicking me again?”
“I can’t promise I’ll never kick you again but yeah… I’m satisfied.”
He laughs against you, “Alright, well, if you’re ever curious again… you know where to find me.”
It’s been about a week since you crossed a line you probably shouldn’t have in your friendship with Suguru, and like the incredibly brave individual you are… you have been ignoring him.
Not on purpose though, you intend on replying to all his messages… but then you get nervous and freak yourself out and stop short of sending anything back. From his messages, you can tell he’s getting increasingly more worried… or maybe frustrated… you’re not sure, there is only so much you can infer over text.
Maybe you should reply, looking at his last message that reads, ‘seriously? answer me. today.’ Oh yeah… he’s annoyed, you have no idea how to reply to him, maybe something simple? Or maybe a long paragraph overexplaining yourself… or maybe—
Your phone screen changes to Shoko’s caller ID, saved by the metaphorical bell. “Hey! What’s up?”
She sounds a bit short when she answers you, “Are you coming tonight?”
“Tonight…” You trail off, completely blanking on what the hell she’s talking about.
Her reply coming incredibly deadpan and disappointed, “You forgot.”
“No noo, I would never forget about…” The rest of your sentence dropping off, silence falling over the line.
She fills in the gaps for you, “The stupid party that’s being thrown by our stupid friends to celebrate the stupid event that is a boring, normal, Friday night.”
She already sounds over it and you’re pretty sure she would’ve only just got there. “Okay, well… I now feel significantly better about the fact that I actually had forgotten what tonight was.”
“Yeah, well I wish I had forgotten too because this is boring without you.”
“Didn’t you only just get there?”
“I feel like that’s beside the point.” You can feel her eyeroll through the phone. “So, when are you getting here?”
Sighing as you ask, “Do I really have to come?”
Not missing a single beat when she shoots back, “I’m here which means yes, you do.”
You go quiet for a moment, “…Will Suguru be there?”
“You’re more likely to know than me,” she sounds confused, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but surely you don’t think you can avoid him forever.”
“Not forever… just tonight.” You really don’t feel like running into him in person, not when you can barely get your head on straight long enough to message him back.
“I haven’t seen him, and he didn’t sound all that interested when this was first planned so I doubt he will show up.”
“You’re not just lying to get me there, are you?”
“Of course not.” It’s always been hard to tell when she’s joking but you’re pretty sure Suguru isn’t there. If you had been replying to him, you probably would’ve ended up hanging out together tonight just to avoid that pointless party.
Deciding to take the risk, you acquiesce. “Alright, I’ll be there soon, just give me a bit to put on something that isn’t pyjamas.”
Getting out of the apartment will be good for you, that and you’ll have the chance to catch up with Shoko, it’s been a while since you last hung out.
“Just come in your pyjamas.”
“Okay, now you’re being unreasonable,” you chuckle.
She groans through the phone, “Gojo and I just made eye contact, that’s like asking to be trapped in a conversation for at least an hour.”
You smile at her and her exaggeration. “That’s really funny, tell him I said hi.”
“Don’t hang up on me—”
The line goes dead as you hang up on her.
Nearly an hour has passed by the time you get to the party, but when you make eye contact with Shoko across the room – still stuck in conversation with Gojo – it looks like a century has passed for her.
Walking up to them both, you grab Gojo by the sides of his arms and shake him, making a loud noise to scare him as you do. He just about dies then and there, head whipping around to see it’s just you and gripping a hand over his chest.
He’s a little breathless when he scolds you, “You scared the fuck outta me, what the hell?”
“I thought it would be funny.” You smile bright at him, out the corner of your eye seeing Shoko fighting a smile and hiding it behind her drink.
“It wasn’t,” he half pouts.
“It kinda was,” Shoko interjects.
He just continues to pout over how badly you got him.
“Hi Satoru,” you chirp at him, trying to be as sweet as possible for scaring the living daylights out of him.
“Yes, hello,” he fights a smile when greeting you back, and then his face twists as if suddenly remembering something. “Hey! What happened with you and Suguru?”
Taken aback by his abruptness. “What?”
He’s staring at you intently, seemingly desperate to know your business. “I know something happened, you gotta tell me what.”
Honestly, you would’ve thought Geto would’ve told him by now, seeing as how they’re sort of attached at the hip. “He hasn’t told you?”
“He’s insistent that nothing is wrong.”
“Then nothing’s wrong.”
“I know something is wrong and I also know you’re dodging him because he made me text you to see if you’d reply and you replied within the same minute,” he squints at you accusatorily.
Arms crossing over your chest as you size him up. “You sent me a photo of the cat that hangs out in your neighbourhood as bait? That’s messed up Satoru.”
“I was investigating,” he defends.
“No, you were being nosy, just like you are now.” Something occurs to you very suddenly, “Wait, if you’re here… and I’m here… where is Suguru?”
“Here, obviously,” he shrugs.
Turning, you glare at Shoko who raises her hands in defence. “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t lie, I really haven’t seen him. I’ve been trapped in conversation with this idiot the whole time.”
“Trapped? That’s so mean Shoko,” Gojo plays up his hurt, sulking and giving her the saddest eyes he can muster. It unsurprisingly has no effect on her.
He’s here somewhere, you need to leave before he sees you. You’re so annoyed at yourself for not connecting that Satoru being here obviously meant Suguru was going to be here too, especially since he wasn’t with you.
Spinning, you go for the front door you came through not that long ago. Managing to get it open a crack before a hand above your head closes it. Turning around, you come face to face with Suguru, a very annoyed Suguru. Polite smile painted on his face but his eyebrow twitches slightly.
His weight is supported by his hand on the door as he leans down to you. “And where are you going?”
“I was just gonna… head home… get an early night?” Looking away from him as you lie poorly, not able to look at him without thinking about how he kissed you.
He points out, “You just got here though.”
“Yeah, it’s just… not my scene…” In your defence, not a complete lie.
“Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.” He leans down further to catch your eyes with his, sick of you avoiding eye contact.
You’re only able to look at him incrementally, eyes flicking from his, to the wall behind him. “No there’s no reason for me to be avoiding you, I don’t know why you would think that.”
“Oh good! That means you can stay then.” Face scrunching with his—now—less than polite smile. Clearly growing frustrated with how you’re refusing to communicate with him properly.
You have no excuses to give, nothing good or even remotely believable anyways. “I uhh—”
Cutting you off to give an ultimatum, “—Either we’re leaving and talking like adults or you’re staying right here and suffering through this whole night with me right by your side.”
His choice in wording disgruntles you, locking eyes to say, “It doesn’t cause me suffering to be beside you, Suguru.” You want to make at least that much clear.
He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Good. Then you won’t mind me not leaving your side.”
Weighing your options, you don’t know what would be better right now. On the one hand you’d get to leave but then you’d have to tell him about how much you’re affected by the line you crossed, about how you’re developing feelings for him that you shouldn’t have indulged in. On the other, you stay but he lingers around you all night and you’re left haunted by all the things you want to say but can’t quite bring yourself to.
“Let’s go back to everyone then,” you smile back at him.
His face drops. “You don’t wanna talk about it that bad?”
“Suguru, you’re looking for answers I don’t even know if I can give you.”
He relents and takes a step back from you, “Fine. But just so you know, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Waiting for you to want to talk first seems to be his main goal but you can see just how impatient he’s getting.
You ignore his comment and walk past him back to Gojo and Shoko in the other room, they’re both exactly where you left them. It’s awkward, for you anyways. You don’t know about them or everyone else here, but you feel awkward.
It carries on for the whole night; it’s been a couple hours now and Suguru is still just following you around wordlessly. Only speaking to others when spoken too, engaging in some conversation, only to cut it short when you move on.
This really isn’t fun for you, normally not even bothering to come to house parties like this and only doing this as a favour to Shoko but she’s gone home now, and you’re left here with just Geto. You’d leave too, but you have a feeling he’s going to follow you home, or at the very least make you talk to him before you try leaving and you’re just… so not in the mood.
Sighing softly to yourself as you walk into the kitchen, somehow managing to shake your tail, for now. Taking the small reprieve as a chance to breathe and think, which is cut short when some stranger starts a conversation with you.
“Hi! You’re really hot, do you want a drink? I can make you a drink. I’ve never seen you here before and trust me– I’d remember you.” He’s slurring his words slightly, “So, drink? You wan– I can get you a—”
He’s really forward, and drunk, it’s making you uncomfortable, especially since you’re far too sober and far too annoyed to have to deal with drunk men. “—I’m good, thank you, I’m not drinking.”
“Oh, come on! Jus one drink, it’ll loosen you up.” He moves in to elbow your shoulder lightly. “You’re too hot to be– to be such a downer, maybe a smile would help.”
Completely unamused and slowly shuffling back away from him. “I think I’d prefer you just leave me alone; I’m not interested.”
“Don– don’t be like that,” he sulks at you.
Your back collides with someone’s front and looking up you can see it’s your missing stalker of the night. As annoyed at Suguru as you are, you are endlessly thankful for his timing, physically feeling yourself relax now that he’s here.
Geto glares down at the pushy guy. “She’s not interested.”
“Oh man, I didn’t know she had– had a boyfriend, you know you should keep an eye on her,” the drunk idiot leers at you, “She’s kind of a tease, leading me on,” he shrugs.
Your face grimaces at his words and the way he eyes you, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Suguru moves in front of you, shielding you from him, his lip twitches at this guy’s words. “Excuse me?”
“No, well… I jus mean she didn’t tell me—”
“—She said she wasn’t interested, that was enough,” Geto’s tone is growing more irritated by the moment.
“Suguru, let’s just go, it’s fine.” You tug on the hem of his jacket, not really wanting to have to deal with the fallout of whatever may happen if this idiot keeps unwittingly provoking Geto. He tries his best, but he has a breaking point, and he tends to hit it pretty quick when you’re involved.
He glances back at you. “It’s not fine.”
“Okay, it’s not but I kinda can’t stand this guy, and this party sucks and I’m annoyed, and I don’t wanna be here anymore.” You feel a little pathetic for whinging but you’re so drained and this guy was your breaking point.
All his attention drops from that guy to you, his hands coming up to either side of your face, taking in how tired you look. Thumbs stroking high on your cheekbones, “Alright, let’s leave.”
Relief in your bones at the fact you’re about to be gone from here, “Thank you.”
From behind Suguru you can see the drunk take the opportunity to slip away, apparently smart enough to use this distraction to his advantage. If Geto notices, he doesn’t say anything, clearly done with him, all attention on you now.
He hums at you, asking, “How’d you get here?”
Your eyes flick back to his. “I didn’t drive, if that’s what you’re asking.” You took an uber, you thought you’d either catch a ride with Shoko, or you’d take another uber home.
“You’re riding with me then.” His large hand takes yours. “Come on.” Then tugging you through the house behind him.
The car ride has been quiet, you can feel your head drooping and your eyes closing, very nearly falling asleep. That is until, you notice Geto isn’t taking you to your house, instead heading towards his.
Turning to face him, you ask, “Why are we going back to yours?”
Without turning to look at you, he replies, “Because you’ve been avoiding me, so I am now forcing you to spend time with me.”
He’s decidedly not funny. Sighing as you try to chide him, “Suguru—”
Finally glancing your way only to speak over you, “—Don’t ‘Suguru’ me, my place is closer and you’re tired, if you weren’t being so weird around me ever since I k—”
“—Shhh, be quiet.” Your cheeks suddenly feel warm at the memory of how insistent his kisses were.
“All I’m saying is, if you weren’t being so weird around me, you’d come back to mine tonight anyways.”
It’s frustrating to you that he’s right, you normally would just go back to his and crash in his bed next to him and then you’d make him breakfast the next morning to make up for the fact that you’d taken up his whole bed.
The only thing you can think to say is a flat, “…Fine.” Crossing your arms and looking out the car window the rest of the short drive.
Back at his apartment, he lends you some clothes to sleep in. It’s all incredibly intimate, showering in his bathroom, using the spare toothbrush you keep here, wearing his clothes. Has your friendship always been this intimate or are you just looking at it in a new light.
Leaving his bathroom, you find him in his room. Getting his bed ready for you to sleep in, you stand awkwardly at the foot of it. “I’ll just sleep on your couch.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you always sleep in the bed with me.”
“Yeah but…” Your brows settle into a deep frown. “Do you not feel weird?”
He drops the blanket back onto the bed, exasperation with you clear. “I said to you, I wouldn’t let it affect our friendship, and that’s what I’m doing.” Turning to look at you before adding, “You’re the one making it weird.”
“I know that…” You also know that you were the one who said you weren’t worried about him.
His arms are crossed as he looks you over. “I’m gonna shower now, you don’t have to sleep in the bed, but I think you should, you know firsthand how awful that couch is.”
“Go have your shower.” You shoo him out of the room, standing in the middle of it, alone, considering what you should do.
The couch really is atrocious; it’s part of the reason why you started sleeping in his bed when you visited. He always says he’ll get a nicer couch or a blow-up mattress for you, but he never does, and you always end up in his bed anyways.
Deciding you’re too drained to think any harder about all of this, you crawl into his bed and make yourself comfortable. Everything is so frustrating to you right now, have you always felt this confused about your friendship or were the lines blurred for so long that you’re having trouble understanding where you both stand.
The irony of the situation is annoying and almost laughable because if it were about anyone else, you’d be hitting up Suguru and asking for his advice on it all.
When he comes back into the room, he shuffles around a bit before turning off the lights and getting into bed beside you. You’re lying on your side with your back to him, pretending to already be asleep.
His voice cuts through the quiet of the room, “I miss you.”
Your reaction to it is almost visceral, how are you meant to reply to that. It doesn’t help you feel better at all, only leaving you longing for something you don’t know if you’re allowed to claim. Your friendship has always been on a precarious ledge but it’s only now that you let yourself acknowledge the disgusting depth of your feelings for him.
You mumble into the pillow, “I’m right here.”
“Then why do you feel so far away?”
Readjusting, you rotate so you’re facing him, not completely prepared for him to already be facing you. Propped up on his elbow, closer than your poor heart was ready for. You lower your head, so you don’t have to look at his face. “I wasn’t purposefully ignoring you, I really did want to reply.”
He pushes, “So why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know what to say…”
“What can I do to help?” He lowers himself down to your level, head on his bicep.
You still avoid his gaze. “Nothing, you can’t do anything.”
“You’re being—”
“—You are the problem, Suguru, there is nothing you can do to help but get out of my head.” You meet his eyes, frown prominent on your face. “You and your stupid kiss, you made it all a thousand times worse for me.”
“Making out with me was so life changing that you can’t get it out of your head, and you’re annoyed at me for that? You’re the one who wanted to know what it was like.” He’s trying to keep his tone light-hearted but he’s struggling, seemingly growing more irritated by it all.
You grumble at him, discontent, “You don’t need to point out the obvious, stupid.”
A noise of disagreement comes from him, “Well, I feel like I kinda do, since you’re overreacting.”
“I am not overreacting.”
“You are though.”
“No because it’s not just…” you stop short, “…Whatever, I’m going to sleep so be quiet.” He smiles at you like you’re completely endearing, which only frustrates you further.
“The only reason you would be this annoyed is because you want to kiss me again, or more…” His hand reaches for your chin and tilts your head up towards him. “You tell me, are you still curious?”
“Shut up,” you huff out, going to move away only for his hand to slide to your cheek, holding you still.
“You haven’t asked me, you know.”
“What?”
“What if I want to kiss you again? What if I want to do more?” His forehead rests against yours. “You’ve been so caught up in your own head, acting like an idiot over this, that you’ve not even asked yourself about what I want.”
“I am not an idiot.”
“No, but you’ve certainly been acting like one.” His hand slides from your face, down the side of your body, landing on your hip. “At first I thought it was cute, the curiosity, the unawareness.” His hand tugs you in closer to him, body against yours. “But now… now I’m growing impatient.”
Your head feels fuzzy, all pressed up against him and that seems to be the only thing your brain is processing right now. “I’m confused.”
“It’s really quite simple.” He moves in, lips ghosting against yours.
You want so badly to kiss him, breath catching in your chest at the way his lips tickle against yours. Your attention solely on the way he might kiss you.
“You like me, and while it’s endearing to watch you fumble your way through the realisation, it’s killing me to know you’re all caught up on how I kissed you and I can’t even get in contact with you.”
“What? What?” Your brain takes a second to catch up. “I do not– you can’t know– just– what?”
“I can know, you know how? Because you’re painfully obvious about it. So honest, telling me about how you’re thinking of me, not able to look at me without looking at my lips,” a light laugh leaves him at your expression, “and it’s sweet, really. But I’m getting annoyed by the fact that you’re so obsessed with your own feelings that you’ve failed to consider mine.”
He’s giving you so much whiplash right now. “You—”
“—You think I kissed you like that just ‘cause?” He frowns at you, “I kissed you like that because I wanted to, I feel I was a little obvious about it all actually.”
“I’ve been so worried about ruining our friendship.” You feel so pitiful when you say it, like a wet puppy.
“I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “But I’ve hoped for nothing more.” He sighs, “I wanted you to come to me on your own, to talk to me about it but instead you hid from me.”
“What was I supposed to think? Through my eyes, I was stupid and asked you to kiss me just because I was thinking about it. Only to not stop thinking about it, and then realise I like you, my friend.” You pull back from him slightly. “How was I meant to talk to you about it?”
“You think I’d kiss just any friend because they simply wondered about what it would be like?” His brow lifts at you. “Don’t you think our friendship has always been a little too intimate to just be a friendship?”
“Nothing was ever said… how was I supposed to know?”
“Okay, well, let me be perfectly clear.” He tugs you in close again, eyes meeting yours, like he’s going to say something incredibly important, only to plant his lips on yours in a full kiss.
Hand holding you to him tight, like he needs you to stay pressed up against him. His mouth on yours is hot and consuming, kiss messy, tongue licking at yours. An involuntary moan gets caught in your chest and your hand moves to his hair, tangling in it.
Suguru’s parting from you to pant out, “I like you—” kissing you again, “I like kissing you—” lips desperate against yours, “I want to do so much more—” He never parts from you long at all, barley willing to but needing to get his words out.
This is a feeling that you’re never going to be able to forget, the first time he kissed you overwhelming enough and now it’s like he’s completely following his instinct. No critical thinking happening in his head or yours. All your thoughts wash away from you, slipping through your fingers before it even occurs to you to form a thought.
Less scared now, throwing caution to the wind, not worrying about how you should stop, how you can’t ruin the fragility of your friendship. It doesn’t matter anymore, not when he already knows how you feel, not when he seems to feel the same, not when it feels this good.
He mumbles against you, “That clear enough?”
“No,” you huff back, “I think… I’m still a little confused.”
“Well, in that case,” he smirks before kissing you again.
Hand moving to your thigh, sliding it across your skin before grabbing at your knee and crooking your leg to rest on his hip. Leaning into you slightly, using his weight to push back on you, rolling the pair of you until he’s on top. Forearm holding himself over you, his other hand still on your knee, holding you flush to him.
You gasp up at him when his erection ruts into your core, lips parting messily, spit connecting the two of you. A shudder runs down his spine when he looks down at you, at how you’re looking up at him. All big, wet eyes and kiss swollen lips, it’s like he feels all his insides softening for you in that moment, in the most sickeningly affectionate way.
His eyes suddenly look lost, and you don’t know why, going to say something only for his lips to land on yours again. Short, firm kisses planted on your lips over and over again, barely able to return them before he’s pulling back, just to do it again.
It’s sweet but it’s frustrating you, your hands are eventually grabbing at either side of his face and forcing his mouth onto yours, lips meshing together, kissing him fully. Tongue in his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. He moans at how you’re kissing him, at how both your legs are now wrapped around his waist.
Practically clinging to him, lips locked to his, your need making your body hot and head fuzzy. You’re trying so hard to not come across desperate for him, but you really can’t help the way your hips seek out his, grinding up into him.
His voice shakes with a moan, breaking the kiss, “Ohh fuck– hah—” a breathless kind of laugh leaving him, "A little eager, aren’t you?"
"Should we stop then?” You ask with a smile, hands untangling and pushing at his shoulders.
He rushes out, “No no, I didn’t say that.” He pulls your arms, so they’re wrapped around his neck again. “Come back,” a light laugh leaves him, pressing kisses all over your face, lingering on your lips.
“So… you don’t want to stop?”
“Absolutely not, be as needy as you want.” He looks down between where his hips are resting against yours, his cock twitching in his pants. “Hell… be needier.”
“I don’t know… maybe this is all happening too fast,” you say it light heartedly, teasing him, “I mean… we are just friends.”
“Just friends?” He takes personal issue with that, even if he can tell you’re goading him. “Just friends but you’re grinding your pussy all over me?” His hand slips into the front of your borrowed sleep shorts, two fingers rubbing between your folds over your panties.
“Letting your friend touch you like this, hmm?” He pulls your panties to the side, “Fuck– this wet for your friend?”
Your back arches against the bed when his fingers slip over your clit, struggling to get your words out. “I– mmph– I get it, m’sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” He smiles sweetly at you but two of his fingers are slipping inside you, quirking up and rubbing at just the right spot.
God, your eyes roll into the back of your head, cunt pulsing around his fingers so needily. Hands grabbing at him, tangling in his long hair, gasping for air you don’t really need but feeling like you can’t breathe from how he’s touching you.
“What are you sorry for, pretty?” He wants you back on track, he wants to hear you stumble out your apology to him.
“I-I’m sorry– hnnn – f-for…” your mouth drops open in a moan when his thumb rubs at your clit, “You’re not jus– you’re not just my friend– oh! You’re more– you mean more– Ah! Ah!” You can’t think, not when he slides another finger into your pussy, stretching you so open.
He tips forward, fingers not stopping. “You mean it?”
It’s a question made to tease you but with your gooey brain, you look up at him so earnestly and answer, “Mhm, yeah.” Nodding your head firmly at him, even when your eyes look so fucked out.
Soft squelching noises fill the room with how his fingers fuck into you, your cunt clamping tight down around them. Walls so hot and wet that it’s driving him crazy, imagining how it would feel to have you wrapped so snug around his neglected cock.
He wants so badly to rip off your pants, so he can see just how well you’re taking his fingers but you’re pulsing so rhythmically around him, and your eyes roll with how good you feel. Making the nicest expressions for him that he can’t even tear his eyes away from your face if he wanted to.
“You’re really cute right now.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, his heart stammering at how your glistening eyes sparkle at him, at how your bottom lip wobbles.
Pouting up at him, “You don’t– ah!– think I’m cute all the time?”
“I think you’re downright adorable all the time,” he laughs airily, “but especially right now,” he’s gazing so intently at your face, “because, I’m pretty sure…” his thumb speeds up on your clit, “…you’re about to cum all over my fingers.”
Oh, how his words effect you so deeply, his tone, the cockiness. If he weren’t touching you so right you wouldn’t find it as arousing as you do but you feel like you could cry from just how overwhelming it all is.
Shaking your head at him as if to say ‘no, you’re not about to cum.’
“No?” He pouts at you mockingly. “You sure?”
Denying it really doesn’t get you anywhere, especially since he can feel how you tighten around his fingers, how your gooey cunt pulses for him. Your back arching meanly, legs wanting so badly to kick against the air. Hand tugging at his hair as you gasp, broken moans leaving you.
“I mustn’t be doing this right then,” he hums at you in thought, slowing his movements slightly. “Should I stop then? Change up what I’m doing?”
The thought of him stopping now, or changing what he’s doing kills you, almost literally. Your eyes widen and you shake your head vehemently at him. “Don’t stop– hnn– don’t– please,” begging him with your eyes.
“Only ‘cause you begged so nicely,” his tone so sweet on you.
He doesn’t change anything, keeps fucking you with his fingers in the way that’s driving you crazy. His mouth waters at how your pussy gushes for him, dick leaking into his pants. Losing his fucking mind at how he’s able to finally touch you like this, how you’re letting him touch you like this, even begging for it.
Your muscles are pulling taut, hearing and sight going fuzzy. “I– ohh– Sugu I can’t– I’m gonna–”
“You can,” dragging it out in a singsong. “Doing so well for me, pretty.”
Biting on your lip to hold back all the moans tumbling from them, hands pulling at him as you struggle to breathe through it. Chest stuttering as your cunt clamps down around his fingers. Grasping at him and pulling him closer to you, planting your lips on his. Desperately kissing him as you cum all over his fingers. Your tongue licking into his mouth, his own moans spilling into the kiss.
Panting against your open mouth to say, “You just came all over your friends’ fingers.” His smile taunting and bright.
Your head lolls to the side. “So you really do just like teasing me, huh?”
“Pretty sure I said I couldn’t help it.” His fingers slip from your core, sucking them into his mouth, licking them clean in a display so obscene that your skin heats up.
If he were a lesser man, he’d cum from licking himself clean. Groaning around his fingers, mostly for himself but also somewhat to embarrass you. Loving how you squirm, and your face pulls up in embarrassment. All dazed and stupid looking from your orgasm, it makes his heart skip and his dick jerk.
You shock him when you tug your shirt up and over your head, moving to pull at his but he’s too distracted by your tits to make any move other than to lean down and press wet kisses all over your chest.
“Suguru– hah– your shirt.” Your fingers still pull at the fabric.
“You can’t—” He sucks and licks at your nipple, relishing in the reactions and sounds he’s pulling from you. “—You can’t show me your tits and expect me to not touch them.”
When he looks up at you, his eyes are lazy and dazed, his tongue drooling all over your boobs. Moving to plant even more firm and wet smooches all over your unbelievably soft skin, sucking to leave behind his mark. Wanting to leave behind marks that he will see when he wakes up tomorrow, marks that he will leave marks over so that they never go away, so he will always have evidence of how he touched you. Of how you let him touch you.
Groping at all your exposed skin, pulling at you, fingers tugging at your nipple, while he salivates all over the other one. Your legs tug his hips down into yours, rubbing your clothed cunt all over him, wanting him to fuck you so badly. He’s working you up so unfairly, already making you cum and then playing with your tits in a way that has you itching to be full of his dick.
“Suguru.” He ruts his hips back down into you but doesn’t remove his mouth from you, so you pull at his hair harshly. “Please.”
He moans at how you pull at him, eyes lidded. “So demanding.”
“You’re taking too long.”
He tuts at you, nipping lightly at the skin between your tits, “You’re just impatient.”
“Yeah, I am.” untangling your legs from him, you shuffle your shorts and panties down and off your body. “Are you going to help?”
“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The desire to lick at your pussy, make out with your cunt, is huge but with how you look at him, so needy and impatient, he needs to stuff his dick inside you. Now.
When you go to tug at his shirt, he lets you, letting you pull it off him completely. Goose bumps breaking out across his skin with how you rake your nails delicately over him. The affection he holds for you feels like it grows tenfold at how you look at him, how tenderly you touch him.
“You’re so pretty,” you’re mumbling it out at him before you’re really registering that you’ve thought it, let alone spoke it.
His head drops into the crook of your neck. “So sweet on me, got me forgetting why I waited so long to say anything.”
You grin at him. “Because you’re stupid.”
“Oh, that’s right,” he sneers back at you before shuffling back to pull his pants off. Finding immense joy in how your smug little smile drops from your face when his cock is free, tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking profusely, precum dribbling down the sides of his dick.
Moving to get up before even really thinking about it, wanting to touch him. Only to fall into the pillows when his large hand pushes you back by your sternum. Looking to him just as he leans in, lips brushing yours so softly you’d think you’d imagined it if he didn’t immediately follow it up with a firm kiss.
“I want to touch you.” Hands already finding their way back to his shoulders, his long hair tickling against skin.
His head is dipping low to watch how he moves his hands down your body. Brushing against your inner thighs, opening your legs for him more. “Well, I want to fuck you.” He’s not capable of taking his eyes off your syrupy cunt, so wet for him.
Goading him with your words, “What are you waiting for? A formal invitation?”
“Sharp tongue for someone so sensitive,” he muses, fingers slipping through your folds, gently over your clit to make you jolt, as if to prove his point.
Not giving you a chance to say another snarky comment, his fingers dipping into your hole again. His fingers stretch you open obscenely, pulling back covered in cum from your previous orgasm and fresh slick. It’s almost embarrassing how soaked you are, at least it would be if he didn’t seem almost overjoyed at the sight.
His hand covered in your mess moves to his dick, stroking himself, lubing himself so you can take him easier. You want to rub your thighs together, to squirm at how he languidly pumps at his cock, how his brows upturn and his mouth gapes slightly.
His palm so warm against your inner thigh, holding you still. Moving so he can tap his dick against your clit, smiling at how your body jerks.
“Don’t be a tease.” Your hand moves for his, but he grabs at you before you reach him, looping his fingers with yours.
His tone is cheerful and bright, “But you look so cute when you’re frustrated.”
“I’ll leave,” you threaten, not even a little convincingly, way too horny to be taken seriously.
“Really?” He raises a brow at you, intrigued. “I don’t think you’d get very far…” Mocking pout settling on his features.
Nothing if not stubborn and true to your word, you push him back and roll to get out of the bed defiantly. Barely making it to the edge of the mattress when his hands are on your sides and manhandling you back into your previous position. Spreading your legs wide and rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds, just dipping into your hole before repeating the previous movements.
Biting his lower lip as he watches, his precum smearing all over your messy cunt. “Told you, you wouldn’t get very far.”
Your head rolls at how he dips his dick in more, beginning to stretch you open. His hips are stuttering forwards, hand slapping down onto the mattress beside you to stop himself from pushing you too far.
“Oh– oh– fuck! How– h-how are you this tight, oh,” breathless not even beginning to describe how fucked out he already sounds.
“Mm– more, Sugu, please– I–”
At your insistence, he fucks himself all the way in, holding his pelvis to you as he fills you to the hilt. Your pussy spasming and creaming around him, so worked up that he can feel just how aroused you are in the way you twitch, at how your fingers grab at his skin, how your breaths are uneven and broken.
He can’t help but marvel at how you let out little squealed moans, how your cunt stretches to take all of him. On cloud nine at how you’re so horny over how heavy he’s sitting inside you that you’re close to tears.
The moan he lets out is debauched, unbelievably turned on when your hips struggle to grind down into him needily, working yourself up to an orgasm so fucking fast that he can’t do anything but watch in awe.
You can’t stop yourself; you know you should, should slow down and maybe calm down but it feels so good. He’s so big inside you, his cock pulsing in a way that has you memorising the thumping rhythm. Not usually so eager, never this eager, enthusiastically rutting down into him over and over again before suddenly cumming all over him.
Choked and gasped moans pulled from you as your hands reach for him, hoping for him to let you tug him down into you but he’s too busy watching how you throb and cum all over him. Obsessed with how your cute, little cunt struggles with his size as you coat him in all your creamy cum.
“Holy fuck,” he laughs, “That was—”
Head dizzy and eyes lazy as you whinge at him, “—Don’t– don’t say anything.”
“You came as soon as I got inside you and you expect me to make no comment?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“I think it was adorable,” he hums, voice strained, much more effected by it than he’s willing to let on.
You whine when he moves down onto you, cock somehow reaching deeper. Geto’s arms cage you in either side your head, resting on his forearms, his lips against yours in a breathless kiss. Beginning with shallow thrusts, his lips insistent on yours, fucking you so carefully for now.
Quickly, the need to have him fucking you stupid grows within you again and your legs loop around him properly, pulling him into you. Wrapping yourself around him, mouth panting against his.
“Fuck– hah– you’re so wet.” He’s fucking into you faster, hips becoming desperate. “It’s actually– it’s– hnn– it’s crazy how good you feel.” He moves his head to the crook of your neck, growling beside your ear, “such a soaked little cunt, taking it so– ohh– taking it so good.”
“Ah! Ah! Sugu, it’s– ohh– it’s– more– I need more.” Your fingers dig into his back, depraved, wet sloshing sounds of him fucking into you so well fill the room.
He nips at your neck. “Demanding little thing, aren’t you?”
He’s pulling out of you and the moan you let out is small and pathetic, disgruntled by his abrupt movement. The last thing you see is his smug grin before he’s flipping you over onto your stomach, hands pulling your hips up and pushing on your upper back, manoeuvring your body into an obscene arch.
He’s takings his sweet time to slip back inside, eyeing up your pussy and how your hole trembles and drools for him. Your hips wriggle back at him, and he finds himself incredibly amused at how blatantly needy you are, apparently honest with him in more ways than one.
Just as you were about to turn around and complain at how long he’s taking to re-enter you, he’s shoving his cock back in all at once, jolting your body up the bed and forcing a whine out of your lungs.
“Ohh– Sugu– I…” you trail off as his hips pick up, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Sliding your legs further apart to take more of him inside, arching yourself even more, greedy cunt sucking him deep inside. He’s barely able to withdraw before you’re fucking your hips back into him, desperately driving back. So fucking needy that if you had half your mind, you’d be embarrassed but right now all you can think about is how his dick thumps against your walls, how his hands grip onto you tight. He’s probably leaving behind marks to match the ones he left all over your tits.
Mouth gaping open, spit pooling onto the pillow below, drooling over his cock. God, you could cry from just how fucking good it feels. Pussy spasming wildly on him, the more you think about the fact that he’s fucking you, the more worked up you get. Insides flipping at how he seems to touch the most perfect spots inside you, full of butterflies and him.
His mouth by your ear shocks you, his voice chirpy, “What are you– hah– thinking about, pretty?”
“Hah– about how goo– good it feels, feels– ohh– feels so good, Sugu,” your words are slurred, mind reeling at how he doesn’t even seem to slow his pace.
“Flatterer,” he barks out a laugh, “You’re quite the little charmer,” he mockingly compliments. Tongue licking meanly at the salty tears you hadn’t realised you’d shed.
“Shh– shut up– ah!” gasping when he gives a particularly mean thrust into you.
He can’t help but smile at the fucked out look you’re wearing, eyes rolled back, hazy and not comprehending anything other than his dick rubbing up against your walls so perfectly. Your face turns into the pillow and you bite at it, muscles pulling tight as another orgasm crawls up your spine.
It shocks you, how quickly you cum. With Suguru’s harsh thrusts, your ass is burning with the smack of his pelvis against you. The sting biting at your flesh making you feel like you’re on fire, cunt tight around him and orgasm overcoming you so fast that you don’t have time to prepare for it.
And maybe if he hadn’t been caught up in how deliciously you squeeze around him, he’d have time to realise you were coming again and he could stop himself but when you shock the both of you with your sudden orgasm he whines into your back and cums deep inside you. Shivers running down his spine at how it feels, dumping so much deep inside you that the force of his continued thrusts has some of it leaking from you back onto him and down onto the bed, making the obscenest mess he’s ever seen.
Immediately he’s pulling himself back up to see how he’s coated your walls white, his dick covered in your shared cum. Creamy and lewd and he’s not even going soft because how could he when you’re still wrapped so warmly around him. When you’re so fucking gooey and snug. He might die before he’s done fucking you yet and he can’t even find it in himself to care even a little bit.
You’re not capable of forming words together enough to think of making a sentence, only thing coming from you being your garbled, choked moans and the sounds of your plush cunt struggling to take him and all his cum. Pussy bulging with the weight of his cock and the mass amounts of seed he’s just pumped you full of.
His own eyes are lidded and low, pussy drunk and loving every second of it. “So turned on you couldn’t even warn me before you came,” he bites out.
His hand rounds your body and his fingers land on your clit, the overstimulation too much, one of your own hands moving down to try and pry it away. Managing to squeak out, “Too much– ah! Too much, Sugu.”
Tone light when his harsh words are mumbled back at you, “If it’s too much, then why– hnn– why are you fucking back onto me like such a slut?”
He’s so mean, so mean to you while he fucks you so… meanly. Head whirling over how he speaks to you, not even able to think long before he slaps your clit harshly. It’s got your knees buckling, falling into the mattress under him. His dick slips from you as you collapse into the mattress.
Geto doesn’t pick you back up straight away, oh no, because you’re leaking all of his cum out of your little hole onto the bed and he can’t take his eyes off of how much of it he managed to get inside you. It’s you who picks your hips up lazily, presenting yourself for him.
He chuckles at your loyalty to his cock, but he also can’t help the way the sight makes him twitch. Shoving his dick into you again, feral in his pursuit to fuck you, to fuck you full of more of his cum.
“S-so devoted– hnnn– doing such– hah– a good job for me, pretty,” he slurs.
You feel like you might pass out, so lightheaded but meeting each and every one of his thrusts all the same. An arm wrapping around your front pulls your back to his chest. Both of his hands land on your tits, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples, making your pussy shudder around him.
You want to fuck your hips back recklessly but not able to with this angle, only able to arch further and give shallow grinds while he fucks his hips into you. He plants kisses and bites along your neck, nipping your skin hard enough that you twitch and whine each time he does it.
One hand leaves your tit and trails down your front, going for your cunt, spreading wide around where he’s stuffing you full continuously. Getting an absolute mess all over his hand and fingers, only to shove those fingers into your mouth, leaving you to lick him clean. Crammed full by his dick and fingers at once, convulsing around him at the thought of it, at the reality of it.
“You like being stuffed full, huh?” He muses to you, an evil kind of joy in his tone. You don’t get to choose your own response, he’s already using the fingers he has in your mouth to nod your head yes. “Ah, thought so.”
Pulling his fingers from your mouth slowly to watch how you suck on them as he does, before he’s wiping all your spit down your chest to your tummy. And then he has another hand on the back of your neck and is pushing you down into the pillows again, this time he keeps his hand there while he fucks into you diabolically.
Somehow faster than before, relentless, reaching his own end and wanting you to cum all over him at least once more. Head dipping back as he groans out, thrusts harsh and calculated. Hitting all the spots he’s just learnt about, having memorised just how to make you fucking squirm for him.
Which he succeeds in, if he didn’t have the hand on the back of your neck, you would’ve crawled up the bed to try and get away from his evil thrusts. Poor abused pussy creaming around him for the fourth time, orgasm blinding you, only seeing white spots behind your eyelids.
The sounds he lets out are wrecked and beautiful and have you wishing that you weren’t cumming so violently if only to see the way he’s spilling inside you for the second time tonight.
“That’s it– fuck– take it– taking it so fucking well– holy fuck—” Every word he utters is breathless and broken, essentially fucking himself stupid too.
Taking a moment for himself to catch his breath before he’s slipping from you and pulling your ass cheeks apart to watch how his cum dribbles from your overfilled cunt. You try to wiggle away but he holds you steady, eyes trained on your dipping hole. Overcome with the desire to fuck his tongue inside you but instead settling for shoving two fingers inside, plugging your hole to keep his cum in.
You whine at him, and he can only chuckle and find you incredibly cute in your post orgasm bliss. Barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone speak right now.
He does eventually pull his fingers from you, wiping the mess on your thighs before turning you onto your back. It feels like you’re looking up at an angel as he looks down at you, or maybe the devil. All flush and sweet smiles, too sweet for a man that just fucked you within an inch of your life.
“You can’t smile at me like that, not after you almost killed me,” you babble back at him.
He rolls his eyes at you, “There you go overreacting again.”
“You fuck so mean, Sugu,” you accuse… accurately.
A smile grows on his face again. “Feels real good though, doesn’t it?”
You weakly slap at him, he just grabs your hand and tugs your body into his kneeling form, hugging you to him. Pressing kisses all over your face. “Think you can stand long enough to shower?”
Shaking your head at him, “Not without fainting.”
“Alright, bath it is,” he concludes.
He takes such nice care of you afterwards, a complete contrast to how he fucked you. It’s lovely though, the hands that grabbed and pulled at you now delicate as they trace over your skin, washing you clean.
You rest with your back to his front in the bath, head laying lazily on his chest. “So… for the sake of clarity, we’re not just friends?”
His lips tickle against the tip of your ear. “I can fuck you all over again if you need more proof?”
“I fear you might actually kill me.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.” He leaves a single kiss against your cheek.
In the morning, for the first time ever, he makes you breakfast. To make up for all the marks he’s littered your body with. He also officially asks you on a date, which you pretend to think really hard about even though you’d already decided you were going to say yes.
In the end, being friends with Geto Suguru wasn’t hard… it’s just not what you both wanted.
𝒂.𝒏. THIS IS A REPOST .. a repost from my old account @/lovelivision, if you feel like you've read it before, maybe you have !
thank you for reading !!! i hope you guys liked it and i hope everyone is doing so good >:3
꒰꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel .. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。
if you want to move in with shouto you have to be prepared to never be left alone again. you'll go into the bathroom with the idea of a book in a hot bubble bath, and within minutes shouto will be in there too. propped up at the side of the tub, letting a long-fingered hand dangle into the water, trailing searchingly underneath the bubbles...
synopsis:: you and Bakugo were never close in school. just classmates who ended up in the same friend group by accident and stayed there out of habit. eight years later he's one of the top heroes with a mouth on him and you're the unbothered ex-classmate who somehow still doesn't know he's been in love with you since UA. His friends know. His mom knows. Everyone knows. You do not. This is Bakugo's guide— written badly on the back of a receipt at 2am— to finally doing something about it.
yellow and pink divs edited by me. base here if you'd like to make your own ♡ layout inspired by my goat @6x-x9
You were never the loud one in the friend group. That was never your job. Kirishima was loud. Bakugo was louder. You were the one who sat back and watched everyone lose their minds over something small and just — didn't. Calm under pressure. Unshakeable in a way that used to annoy Bakugo in high school and now just makes him feel like he's losing a fight he never agreed to start.
Eight years out of UA and somehow you're still around. Still in the group chat. Still showing up to Kirishima's birthday parties and Sero's terrible karaoke nights. Still completely unaware that Katsuki Bakugo — the number five hero, walking explosion, a man who has never once backed down from anything in his life — has been quietly losing his mind over you since roughly your second year of school.
Everyone else figured it out years ago. Kirishima figured it out first, mostly because Bakugo made the mistake of getting drunk at his own agency's holiday party and saying your name four times in one sentence. Mina figured it out next. Even Todoroki figured it out, which says a lot, because Todoroki barely notices when buildings are on fire.
You did not figure it out. You are, according to every single person in that group chat, the last person on earth who has no idea.
So one night Bakugo sat down with a receipt from a ramen place and a pen that was almost out of ink and wrote himself a list. Not because he needed help — he would tell you he did not need help — but because eight years of doing nothing had clearly not worked and something had to change.
Here's what he came up with.
Rule #1: Don't call her pretty. That's weak. She'll see right through it.
You've been called pretty before. Plenty of times. It rolls off you like water because it means nothing coming from strangers. So the first time Bakugo actually looks at you — really looks, across a table at a group dinner while everyone else is arguing about something stupid — he doesn't say pretty. He says your hair looks stupid pushed back like that and it takes you a full three seconds to realize that's the nicest thing he's said to anyone all night.Kirishima kicks him under the table. Bakugo kicks back harder.
Rule #2: Don't let her see you get soft. Save that for when nobody's watching
You broke your wrist on a mission six months ago and Bakugo showed up at the hospital before your own agency finished the paperwork. He didn't say much. He sat in the corner with his arms crossed and glared at every nurse who walked past like they'd personally wronged him. You thanked him for coming. He said he was in the area. He was not in the area. He is never in your area.
Rule #3: If she teases you don't react. Reacting means she wins.
You have exactly one move against Bakugo and it works every time. You call him Kacchan in that flat unbothered voice of yours, the one that makes it sound like an insult and a joke at once, and he goes red before he can stop it. He tells you to shut up. You don't. He never actually wants you to.
Rule #4: Don't stare. Staring is for losers who can't say what they mean.
He stares anyway. Across bars. Across meeting rooms when your agencies do joint operations. Across the space between his couch and yours when the whole group crashes at his place after a night out and you fall asleep first, curled up small and unbothered like the world isn't currently on fire somewhere. He tells himself he's just checking you're breathing. He checks for a very long time.
Rule #5: If she steals your jacket let her keep it. Don't be a bitch about it.
It was cold outside a bar in October and you didn't bring one. He took his off without being asked and put it around your shoulders before you could even shiver a second time. You tried to give it back at the end of the night. He told you to keep it, said something about not needing two jackets anyway, which made no sense, and walked off before you could argue. You still have it. He knows you still have it. Neither of you has ever mentioned it again.
Rule #6: Don't get jealous. Jealous is for weak men.
A guy from a rival agency spent an entire mixer talking to you last spring and Bakugo spent that same mixer setting three separate small fires with his quirk completely by accident, according to him. Kirishima said it wasn't an accident. Bakugo told Kirishima to shut the hell up in front of everyone, which everyone agreed was extremely on brand and extremely obvious.
Rule #7: If she's tired let her sleep on your shoulder. Don't make it weird.
You fell asleep on the train back from a joint mission once, head tipping slowly toward his shoulder like gravity had made a decision without asking you. He went completely still. Didn't move for forty minutes. Told everyone later he just didn't want to wake you up. That was true. It was also not the whole truth.
Rule #8: Compete with her. Don't let her win just because you like her. That's pathetic.
You beat him at darts once, at a bar, fair and square, and he demanded a rematch on the spot. You beat him again. He demanded a third round. By the fourth round he wasn't even trying to win anymore, just trying to make you laugh at his increasingly unhinged trash talk, and you were laughing too hard to notice you'd stopped keeping score.
Rule #9: Play it cool when she touches you. Don't be obvious.
You have a habit of grabbing his arm when you laugh too hard at something, quick and unthinking, gone in half a second. It means nothing to you. It means everything to him. He has thought about that half-second more times than he'd ever admit under torture.
Rule #10: If she's cold under the table don't offer your legs. That's insane. Nobody does that.
He does it anyway. It's a slow dinner, everyone's talking over each other, and your foot brushes his under the table by accident. You don't move it. Neither does he. What starts as an accident turns into something else entirely — your foot pressed lightly against his shin, his ankle hooked loosely around yours, both of you carrying on two separate conversations with the rest of the table like nothing is happening below it. He nearly chokes on his drink when your foot slides slow up his calf, just once, just to see what he'll do.
He does absolutely nothing. Which is how you know it worked.
Rule #11: Don't ask about her ex. That's weak and clingy behavior.
He asks anyway, once, badly, wrapped inside a completely unrelated sentence about something else entirely so it wouldn't sound like what it was. You answered honestly and briefly and didn't ask why he wanted to know. He spent the rest of that night in a genuinely foul mood that had nothing to do with the mission report he'd claimed was bothering him.
Rule #12: If she gets sick you're not worried. You're just making sure she doesn't die. There's a difference.
You caught something nasty last winter and didn't tell anyone because you hate being fussed over. Bakugo found out from Kirishima and showed up at your apartment within the hour with a bag of groceries he refused to let you see the receipt for. He made soup badly. He stayed anyway sitting stiffly on your couch like he'd rather be anywhere else until you fell asleep on his shoulder for the second time in your life. He didn't move again. This time you were awake enough at the end to notice and you didn't say anything either.
Rule #13: Don't remember small stuff about her. That's obsessive.
He remembers everything. Your coffee order. The exact way you take your eggs. The name of the street you grew up on mentioned once years ago in passing. He tells himself it's just a good memory. Kirishima tells him that's not what a good memory looks like for anyone else in the friend group.
Rule #14: Don't get quiet around her. Quiet means she'll know something's wrong.
He gets quiet anyway sometimes when it's just the two of you left at the end of a group hangout and everyone else has gone home. You've noticed. You've never asked. You've started noticing you kind of like the quiet too.
Rule #15: If she insults your cooking don't take it personal.
You told him once that his katsudon tasted like it was made out of spite. He told you to make it yourself then. You did. It was worse than his. He has never let you live that down and somehow still makes you a plate every single time you come over unasked like it's not a big deal.
Rule #16: Don't let her see the soft stuff. Like the notebook. She can never see the notebook.
There is in fact a notebook. Bakugo would deny this to his last breath. It is not a diary. It is a training log that occasionally accidentally includes things like *she laughed at something dumb I said today* written in the margins in handwriting too small for anyone to notice. Nobody has ever seen it. It stays that way.
Rule #17: Don't dance with her at Mina's stupid parties. Dancing is for saps.
He dances with you exactly once badly at Mina's birthday both of you a little drunk and laughing about how neither of you knows what you're doing. His hand sits low on your waist the entire song. Yours rests flat against his chest close enough to feel his heart going faster than the song's tempo would explain. Neither of you comments on it. Both of you notice.
Rule #18: If she calls you at 2am for no reason answer immediately. Don't overthink it.
You called once at 2am half-asleep just to complain about a case that was bothering you and needed someone to talk it out with. He picked up on the first ring even though he'd been dead asleep three seconds earlier. Talked you through it for forty minutes in a voice rougher than usual low and half-awake until you finally calmed down enough to sleep. Neither of you brought it up the next day. You both remembered it anyway.
Rule #19: Tell her the truth eventually. Stalling makes you look like a coward.
He almost doesn't. Eight years of almost. Eight years of jackets and soup and 2am phone calls and a notebook nobody's supposed to see all adding up to exactly nothing because Katsuki Bakugo — who has never once in his life backed down from a fight — has apparently decided this is the one fight not worth having.
Kirishima finally sits him down and tells him flatly that watching this has become genuinely embarrassing for everyone involved. That you deserve to actually know. That you're not going to figure it out on your own because you're the single most unbothered person either of them has ever met and unbothered people don't go looking for things they've never been told to look for.
Rule #20: Ask her out. Just say it. Stop being a coward about it
He shows up at your apartment on a random Tuesday with no plan and no speech prepared which is unlike him in every possible way. You open the door in an old shirt and no makeup unbothered as always and ask what's wrong like something must be wrong for him to be standing there.
"Nothing's wrong," he says and immediately looks like he regrets starting that way. "I just — " He stops. Starts again. "You're coming to dinner with me Friday. Not the group. Just you and me."
You blink at him. For the first time in eight years something in your carefully composed face actually slips just a fraction just enough for him to see it happen in real time.
"Is this a date Bakugo?"
"Obviously it's a date," he says too loud the way he gets when he's covering for something. "What else would it be. Are you always this slow or is it just with me?"
You don't answer right away. You just look at him for a long moment the unbothered mask cracking wider by the second and something like a smile starts pulling at the corner of your mouth.
"Friday," you say. "Pick me up at seven. And Katsuki—"
"What."
"Wear the jacket back. I've had it long enough."
He goes red for the second time in eight years. Somewhere across town Kirishima's phone buzzes with a single text that just says *finally* and nothing else and every single person in that group chat already knows exactly what it means before he explains a word of it.
part ii of the dragon shouto au : prequel + part i
warnings: unedited lol, afab implied fem reader, possessive dragon boyfriend shouto, unrealistically excellent first time, 18+ minors please dni!!
the thing about having a human-shaped shouto on your hands was that he didn't quite seem to understand humans did things differently than dragons.
where before you'd cuddle up against shouto in his dragon form and spend the night insulated under his thick leathery wings, or let him rest his head in your lap as you absently stroked his scales—those things took on an entirely different connotation when you thought about performing them with a human man.
particularly a human man who looked like shouto.
shouto did not appreciate the distinction.
"i am yours and you are mine," he said simply, the third night after he'd transformed.
you'd tried to take him home, at first, unclear about what to do with an entire human man on your hands, but had quickly realized this unwise.
your parents, ordinarily traditional and fussy, had been floored by the audacity of your bringing a man home still unwed. but they had kept their distance once shouto's pupils went slitted, and a familiar guttural noise tore out of him when they attempted to remove you from him, not-quite-human-teeth snapping.
it was exactly as it had been when you'd brought him home as a child, and he a lizard the size of a fat cat. he'd staked an unmistakable claim on you, and any hand that got between you two would be severed.
so you'd taken shouto back out into the field where he'd transformed, in the interest of keeping your family home intact. you'd lit a fire again, camping out with him over night, trying to keep your distance and failing.
"it's different with humans," you said, freezing when shouto's head suddenly appeared in your lap. he looked up at you expectantly, those blue and grey eyes searching your face, a tiny frown on his lovely mouth.
"it is not different. you are mine in any form," he said. a large, elegant-fingered hand caught yours, guiding your hand up to his hair.
you laughed despite yourself, his insistence on being pet all too familiar in any form as well. carefully, you stroked your fingers through the red and white strands, marveling at their silky softness. shouto's eyes slipped closed and he let out a contented huff, long eyelashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks.
your face heated. he was very beautiful.
"in human custom, i can only belong to one man," you said to shouto, unable to keep the dismay from your voice.
you did not want to take a husband, and it would be all the more difficult now that the entire village had seen human shouto trailing after you the last few days, following you as he always did in his dragon form. except now they had all seen very human, very male hands on you, had seen how closely shouto shadowed you, as if your body was an extension of his own, and no space was needed between you.
you knew there was already talk.
"i am one man," shouto rumbled, turning his face into your stomach. something fluttery jumped in your stomach as the feeling of his soft exhalation over your hip bone.
"i meant a husband, shouto," you said. "i am obliged to take a husband."
shouto was quiet a moment, before another slow, hot breath warmed the fabric of your shirt. "you said i was the only boy for you."
something lightning hot raced up your spine, embarrassment mixed with the thrill of the implication. you looked into the fire for something to do with your attention, watching the flames lick over the logs.
"i said that when you were a dragon," you hissed, your ears prickling with heat. "i didn't mean you would be my husband."
a strong arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you that much closer to shouto, locking you against him. a fiery blue eye cracked open, fixing on you with inhuman intensity. the pupil looked a little slitted in the firelight, and you swallowed in apprehension.
"i am yours and you are mine. if that means i am to be your husband then i will be," shouto said with unmistakable decisiveness.
the thing in your stomach fluttered again, and your thighs shifted beneath shouto's head. his other hand gripped the flesh above your knee, holding you in place.
you choked, your hands freezing in shouto's mop of white-and-scarlet hair. "you don't know what that means."
his hands tightened on you. "i have lived among your people nearly as long as you have. i am not unfamiliar with human custom."
your face burned, words slipping out of your reach. did he really understand what he was saying here? you'd known he'd long understood you, but it had never been clearly exactly how much his dragon brain was processing. but now...
"but you can't—if you know what it means—shouto, you can't—"
a hot mouth met the skin of your stomach, just under your shirt, and the words choked off in your throat. a slow, careful nip to your skin made you freeze.
"i will be your husband and you will be mine," he purred, his voice slightly muffled against your skin. his mouth dragged over your hip.
your hand fisted in his hair, gripping on for purchase. shouto did not seem to mind, his mouth mapping the edge of your stomach, your hip, the waistline of your unladylike trousers.
a shaky breath escaped you. "there are parts of a human union, though, shouto, that i'm not sure you, um, quite understand."
the hand at your knee slid up your thigh as the hand at your back disappeared, reappearing at your hip, pulling the waist of your pants a little lower.
"i understand," shouto replied, his mouth meeting the newly exposed strip of skin above your pelvis. it was only his grip on you, the weight of him across your legs that kept you from jumping a mile into the air. "i have taken this form for that reason."
words failed you, their meanings slipping right out of your mind as shouto's mouth moved painfully gently and deliberately lower and lower.
"ah, shouto—" you managed.
shouto hummed, and you felt his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your stomach, though most of his face was obscured by the fall of your shirt.
"you smell like mine," he rumbled into your skin, sounding altogether too pleased. "i will make it so. i will keep you and care for you as you have kept and cared for me."
another trembling breath quivered in your lungs before you found yourself flat on your back on the ground. shouto had somehow managed to keep himself beneath your shirt, only this time his mouth met the underside of your chest bindings.
"you like it," his voice sounded wondering where it issued from beneath your shirt. you'd have found it comical if not for what he was saying. "you like this form—i can smell it."
his weight moved on your legs, shifting into the cradle of your thighs. he was so warm and broad over you, hot as fire even though the shirt and trousers you'd managed to wrangle him into.
you did not like being laid so bare, but shouto was your oldest friend, and your attention was rapidly being subsumed not by his words but by the feeling of your chest bindings coming undone under your shirt.
"shouto—you are, um, of course very handsome," you said, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. you thought you should push him away to have this conversation from a safer distance, but your arms were barren of the strength to do so, instead clutching him closer. "but you've only been a man for a couple of days. what if there are other women who—oh—oh!"
a hot mouth closed over your left nipple, soft but firm as if in reprimand. "there are no other women. there is only you."
a hot tongue, a little longer than you thought might be normal, laved over the peak. your hips pressed up into shouto without your say so, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. he was doing a little too well under there.
"sho—shouto," you said when he found the other breast, long fingers pulling your bindings down to expose it to him. you'd never had a man's mouth on you before, except for the kiss shouto had given you upon first transforming.
the feeling was mind-numbingly good, and suddenly the idea of a husband—of shouto as your husband—was altogether too appealing, if this is what it was going to be like.
your hips shifted into him again, and you felt his rumbling purr in the meat of your breast.
"my treasure. mine." shouto said when he finally seemed satisfied with the attention he'd lavished on your breasts.
he pulled himself back out of your shirt, leaning in to take your mouth instead as he laid himself out over you. you could feel something firm and insistent press against your inner thigh, hot and hard and unmistakable.
shivers crawled up your skin, little frissons of pleasure.
"say you will be mine," shouto puffed against your mouth, his hands already yanking at your trousers. "please say you will be mine."
he was so handsome over you, your most steadfast friend wearing the most beautiful face you had ever seen, new to you and yet so undeniably familiar, somehow. the sight of him settled that feeling inside you you'd had your entire life, the feeling that the thing you were meant for was just out of reach, just beyond the next corner.
he looked like everything you were meant for—everything that was meant for you.
feeling strangely squirmish and shy, you managed an answer. "i always have been."
a heartbreakingly beautiful grin swept over shouto's mouth, a sweet half-moon. his pupils were unmistakably slitted, his two-toned eyes looking just as they did in his dragon form.
in a few shift movements shouto had you both divested of your trousers, and was pressing slowly, carefully inside you.
the feeling was strange, foreign. but with shouto over you, the weight of him holding you down kept you grounded, and soft kisses to your neck and shoulder kept you just distracted enough as he slid home inside of you.
you felt full in a way you'd never imagined, physically and otherwise. your nerves sparked to life when two of shouto's fingers found their way to where you connected, pressing firmly over your clit. a shivery moan escaped you, and shouto's mouth clamped down lightly over your shoulder.
"mine, mine, mine," he groaned into your skin, flexing his hips. the slide of him inside you was better than you'd known it would be, especially when he cupped the small of your back, pulling you into him at an angle.
between his fingers on your clit, rubbing little insistent circles, and the press of him inside of you, you quickly grew frantic, returning his thrusts with eager motions of your own hips, reveling in the way it sent sparks skittering up all your nerve endings.
your liked the way your breasts pressed into his chest, the firm way he held you to him, the bruises he was sucking into the skin of your neck. talented fingers pinched carefully at your clit, a slurry of sensation.
he seemed determined to work you up, hard and fast, and he was succeeding. you felt like pudding in his hands, melting, dripping, hot over his fingers. every single one of his movements seemed calculated to drive you insane, drive you to writhe against him harder, more desperately.
in no time at all you were gasping his name into the cool night air, chasing the release of an unfamiliar pressure.
"let go, love," shouto said, kissing your mouth again. "let go and be mine."
you nodded, words failing you as something inside of you snapped and a tidal wave of pleasure crashed into you, sweeping away all thought. shouto fucked you right through it, his groans rumbling into growls, full-throated and deep. the slide of him inside you became almost too much and you squirmed underneath him, but couldn't bring yourself to want it to stop.
shouto's thrusts grew faster, messier. you heard his fingers rake the ground at the side of your head as he finally came too, his slender hips grinding into your thigh as he spilled inside of you. he went rigid over you, huffing your name, until finally he relaxed into you, his hard body pinning you to the ground.
"this will be an interesting conversation to have," you said some minutes later, when both of you had settled. your hands found their way into shouto's hair again and he pressed up into them like a pleased tomcat.
"there will be no question now. you are my mate, and i am your husband," shouto said, sounding smug. his eyes were closed but you thought they would be glittering with pleasure if they were open.
"we'll still need to do the human ceremony," you said. "but i can't imagine anyone could stop us."
shouto all but purred. "i will eat them if they try."
you laughed, yanking on his hair. "you will do no such thing."
"then i will fly you off to the nearest cave and mate you so thoroughly no questions could ever be asked," he said instead. "there will be no doubt you are mine."
your thighs clenched involuntarily around his hips, and you could tell by the flutter of his long lashes that he was suppressing a smug expression.
"maybe for the honeymoon," you allowed, trying not to sound too interested.
but shouto was your oldest friend and you were learning he'd long known everything about you. "definitely for the honeymoon," he decided, shifting to pull you into the circle of his arms, tucked safely into his side.
you settled into his embrace, feeling truly content for the first time in your life, certain of the one thing shouto had been insisting this whole time.
ANDY U CANT LEAVE US HANGING I NEED MORE DRAGON SHOUTO?,!?.!. please… i think ill die if u dont elaborate WHAT DO U MEAN WE’RE FACE TO FACE WITH HIM… what does he say… what does he DO… i need to know more omfg
Riffing off of @mhathotfic's tags on my original post, which I absolutely loved.
It happens on a cold January evening, just a few months after you've reached your majority.
You escape out into the frosty winter evening to join Shouto, unable to bear your family's increasingly-regular discussions of your marriageability now that you're of age.
Once you dragged home a dragon fledgling, you'd always sort of imagined that the question of your eligibility would be somewhat moot. Not many men wanted a wife who came with little dowry, and even fewer might want one who came with an enormous fire-breathing lizard who barely let her out of his sight.
You thought Shouto would sooner burn down your husband's house than listen to any sounds of discomfort on your wedding night—you didn't think many men would be willing to consummate a union with that threat lingering just beyond the window.
Not that you wanted to be married to any of the village men. Ever since you were little, you'd always had this feeling—a feeling like there was someone out there for you, just out of reach, like they were just a step beyond the next corner. Close, but somehow impossible to catch. So you'd never wanted a husband from the village, and you certainly don't now.
So once the discussion turns towards the topic of your being married yet again over dinner, you excuse yourself, and go out into the night to find Shouto, who is never more than a few hundred meters away.
You find his enormous form easily, his red-and-white patterned scales glittering in the light of a fire he's set, out in the fields you'd found him in as a child, as if he'd somehow anticipated you'd be coming out to him.
He cracks open a fiery blue eye, watching your approach, and lifts a wing as you near him, crowding you between the fire and his warm scales, creating a sort of tent with his wing to keep the heat in, and keep you close to him.
You absently pat his side, sinking down against him, sticking your hands out to the fire.
"They're talking about husbands again," you say, and Shouto cranes his neck around so that he can rest his head across your lap, nearly as large as you are, heavy and warm. You reach out to rest a hand across his snout, petting the glittering scarlet scales there.
You've always known he can understand you, given his reactions to the questions you ask, the way he sometimes watches you with knowing eyes. But how much of what you say to him he truly understands will forever be a mystery, as you'll never be able to ask him.
You think he understands enough, though, to know you're displeased.
"A husband," you repeat in disbelief, scratching over his scales again, listening to the rumble that builds up in his chest almost like a purr. He always likes to be petted, though you get an intentionally blank look from him whenever you dare to bring it up, as though he does not like to be made fun of.
"When they should know you're the only boy for me," you tell him, teasing.
Shouto's eye blinks open again, and you lean back to watch him watching you, something curious in his gaze. You begin to recognize the look for what it usually is—the precedent to some type of mischief—whether that be digging up a garden when he was still the size of a particularly fat cat, to accidentally setting a man's pant leg ablaze when he'd whistled after you, the evening of your sixteenth birthday.
You make a curious noise, and you're just about to ask him what he thinks he's up to when there's a crackle like lightning, and the hot, burning scent of ozone reaches your nose.
There's suddenly a rush of cold air over you, Shouto's massive form gone from around you, and the weight in your lap is suddenly much smaller and lighter.
When you look down, Shouto's head is no longer across your legs. Instead, your gaze meets the perfect pale skin of a very strong, very naked back. You realize belatedly that there is a stranger in your lap, a man with a mop of red-and-white hair, scarlet and snow, who has one warm, muscular arm curled around your waist.
You let out a scream, scrabbling backwards, but the stranger's arm locks around you, and the man's face tips up to yours, blinking curiously.
You freeze, your gaze meeting eerily familiar grey-and-blue eyes, set into the most utterly perfect face you have ever seen. The man's features are careful and exact, the slope of his nose blade-straight, his jawline strong, his mouth pretty and plush and weirdly captivating in the flickering firelight. You cannot help but feel you know him, though you are incredibly certain you have never seen him before.
There would be no forgetting a man as beautiful as this.
"Who the hell are you?" you demand, shock rendering you frozen and dumb.
The man blinks, slow and catlike and so hauntingly recognizable. His eyebrows scrunch, as though something's confused him, and then he speaks, slowly and carefully, as if he's just getting a feel for the shape of words in his mouth.
"I am...Shouto," he says, his voice so deep and smooth. It reminds you so much of the deep, rumbling purr Shouto had just been letting out moments ago—your mouth drops open, disbelieving.
"You're Shouto?" you echo, thrown. Though you're beginning to realize that this devastatingly handsome, distractingly naked man is horribly familiar in hundreds of different ways—from the timbre of his voice to his eyes to his hair to the way his arm suddenly curls even more possessively about your waist, the way Shouto's tail sometimes does to keep you pressed close to him.
And with Shouto the dragon suddenly gone...
"You're my dragon? My Shouto?" you demand.
The man blinks, shifting in your lap so that's he's fully turned towards you. He props up on one hand, his face drawing alarmingly close as his other arm presses you into him. He looks very much as if he likes the sound of that.
"Yes, your Shouto," he purrs, pupils going darker. Your heartbeat suddenly kicks back to life in your chest, stuttering and tripping over itself as his large, hot palm presses proprietarily at the small of your back, as he leans in to bring his mouth close to yours.
"And you..." he says, his tone going rich and smoky and dark, like dragon fire. "You have always been mine."
ok i know im all over the place but now i'm back on that dragon shouto au thinking about how after the first time he has you, you just lay there appalled that the little fat lizard that used to hungrily eye the worms you dug out of the dirt as a kid is the same man that just made you come so hard you forgot your own name
𝓢ummary: Suguru fucking you on his couch like nobody’s business.
𝔀arnings: overstimulation, some plot, he’s kind of mean 😵💫, fwb, dumbification, condescension.
𝓪/n: eufers finally uploads
𝓦c: 2.9k
mdni
He rolls into you with such passion, you’re already crying, a mess, a complete mumbling and mewling mess. Every single rut inside of your walls bringing you closer to space when your vision gets to a dreamy haze. He holds the back of your hair, pushing down on your stomach, he fucks into you never faltering his slow and calculating pace. Staring into your eyes, pupils expanding with salacious intensity.
You think you might be at the point of no return, in fact.
The sex he’s giving you like your warm walls are the only thing that’s heaven to him.
Like an angel was whispering in his ear to please you.
So dreamy.
so deep.
So ambivalence.
So soul shattering.
Sugurus sex makes you want to shut off your brain forever. Melting like ice in the sun under his sweaty body slamming into your messy cunt all over again.
Your ears are losing their hearing and your vision is blurry, if not your eyes are closed, spilling a warm river of tears rolling down your cheeks. White bubbles of your fluids sticking between you, pussy throbbing for more.
And again. And again. And again.
Suguru isn’t cruel, he isn’t.
He was never cruel to you. But he did tend to play little games with you sometimes, in bed, in his lap, in control.
Going dumb on Sugurus cock is a must.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this after all, you were invited to come hang out with Satoru and Suguru for the afternoon via text.
Satoru wanted to play some video games and you agreed to come over.
You always were in your own world when playing video games, kind of zoning out at times during the session and probably angry spamming the controller when fighting.
That afternoon went to a different turn when Suguru started with some flirty comments. He’s always been a little too nice to you, too close at the right moment. Suguru has always been too accepting.
And dare I say a little too soft.
At least, that’s only towards you.
He’ll be nice and even get closer to you and get in your personal space.
Suguru was very open and that kind of makes you question what he’s up to. Whatever, probably another way to be mean. And that’s upsetting, poor you, another session of teasing.
Satoru went to continue his homework and that takes hours, Suguru by this time, was already halfway finished with his homework. So after some time, you and Suguru decided to play some video games.
Suguru turned on the console, you watched him grab the two controllers and he handed you yours. Hands slightly touching with the small intimate contact, sitting back down next to you as the tv glows up through the dark room. Your nose breathes in his firewood vanilla scent and that makes your face hot.
There it was, his scent.
You turn your head at him.
He sets his controller in his lap then puts his hair up back into that neat bun.
You watched his elegant movements with curiosity then he glanced at you through his peripheral, catching your eyes before you quickly looked away.
He saw it.
He just giggled under his breath and picked up his controller and turned it on. He leans back into the soft sofa, thigh beside yours, pressing, inching beside you and looks at the tv screen, then back at you.
Heart slowing down from his ‘Caught ya’ stare, you looked back to him and met his playful calm glare.
His voice steady and warm.
“What do you wanna play?”
Your mind froze for a few seconds.
You were too caught up in his enticing stare. Softly caught off guard, you don’t talk. Your heart just hammers in your ribs. Just as you were frozen he snapped his fingers next to your right ear once—;it snapped you out of your mind for another moment.
It’s his scent that consumes your senses, just as the same as it did before.
Back in reality, you look at the screen, you can’t even pretend to be interested in anything that’s using your brain. You have Suguru Geto right beside you asking to play some stupid game you’re not going to care about later. You look between him and the controllers, paired with the console.
Eyes motion blurring between the two options. You looked.
Suguru, controller, tv.
Suguru, controller, tv.
Suguru, controller, tv.
Wait—Controller, Suguru, tv.
Tv, sugur-oh whatever. What’s the use if you can’t even focus on a damn video game? Your brain is too aware of him. Why is his huge covered thigh touching yours?
Pussy starting to throb, you can’t really ignore it. You wonder if he can see it, if he can see the shifting in your spot. It’s getting warm so your brows start to knit. No, it’s starting to get hot. Your clit feels so turned on. If this is what prey feels like then it must be. Your right leg started bouncing all shaky.
What does this man do to you?
His voice pulled you out of your brainstorm.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to make big decisions.”
Wait…
Big decisions?
What does he mean by that? Actually never mind that, wait actually mind that. What the hell does he mean by ‘you don’t have to make big decisions’?
He stood up from the couch and your eyes tracked after his body. “Let me turn the console off, we can do something else.” He turned his attention to you with that same amusement. “Let’s go to my place.”
And of course, you said yes without a hesitation, without a word, without a flinch, without a doubt—he’s got you wrapped around his finger and he hasn’t even acknowledged the throbbing pussy and the jittery shakes of your legs.
Yet.
Back at his apartment indoors.
His place is clean and neat, still homey to him with his smell all around with some fresh candle wax burning a sweet lavender on the hard surface kitchen counter. You look around with a slight flush on your face from your earlier thirsting, cause god you were thirsty.
You don’t know if that’s perverted or not, but the way he still smiles at you tells you that something is lurking deeper than what he may have concealed.
You sit on his couch stiff, the same way you did on Satorus couch when you looked at Suguru up and down in the dim living room. Frozen, frozen like you were when he asked, ‘“What do you wanna play?”’
You still had no idea.
He looks at you soft and fondly leaning over the kitchen counter with his palms on the edges. He’s observing you again like there’s something that needs guidance inside you. Baggy sleeves rolled at his elbows, Revealing skin to you like he can tell you’re thinking back to that memory already.
That scent set you off.
His scent was setting you off.
Maybe if you wiggled under his pillows and hide your face wishing you could make a home there. How embarrassing. He walked over and grabbed a pillow off your head and put them on the other side of the couch. Sitting down next to your curled up form—he talks gently.
“So, what did you want back there?”
What?
You turn your head to him a little confused. Did he notice? And if so..did he just read through you?
“Elaborate…I’m stuck..”
“mmm.” He just looks at you even more amused. It’s gentle and confusing. What is he hinting at? Your bones shiver and you just blurt out before he can finish.
“Se—”
You burst from the cushions.
“I wanted to play a game!”
Oh.
He already said it for you.
You sat there as your heart sinks in your chest.
You felt caught.
There wasn’t any real way to describe it. You just be quiet and look at him and get the feeling like he’s scolding you gently then get warm. Like a little deer in the headlights. You freeze. Your voice came out shakier than usual. “That’s not..what I said..” you say it like it holds any meaning.
“I know.”
It doesn’t.
Your breath actually hitches and your heart throbs.
Oh.
You’ve been caught.
A stretched silence occurred, you suddenly feel too exposed to him. Suguru stares at you with a gentle smile. He knows what he’s doing. Cutting your voice through the silence, you kind of feel like his eyes are just a spotlight on you. “Suguru..” it was only a whisper because you didn’t know what to say. All you had to do was sit there and think about what just happened and let it all soak in.
“I know you wanna have sex.”
It wasn’t a lie,
Suguru not a liar. He saw it when you looked away. You wanted to defend yourself somehow. You start shaking your head no and looking away. “I wasn—” “I know you were.” It’s as if the atmosphere changed. Eyes on the floor, you’re frozen. Suguru’s eyes on you, you’re still. Your heart sped up. You give up after your thoughts race. “Am I in trouble..?” You ask.
He crawls on top of you like a big cat and stays there. “Does it feel like you’re in trouble?” And god was it hard for you to breathe. He whispered in your ear as if you two aren’t alone. “I think we both know where this is going baby. We both know how you’re going to end up.” Heart pounding in your chest you make a noise, you’re not sure if it’s a protest or a plead.
“Don’t worry sweetheart you’re not in trouble, but I sure can make you feel like it.”
And then you make the same needy noise. He knows what he’s doing to you. As you breathe the ache between your legs is worse ever since he weighted on you. “I wanna..” you swallowed. “I wanna..have sex with you…” you felt heart heart banging in your chest, sweating. Hot spread on your cheeks, you can’t hide behind anything but you hope you don’t have to say anything more.
“Oh baby, that wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?”
“No..” you say it so weakly like you're too embarrassed to even speak. He smiles softly at your surrender then kisses your baby hair. “You’re such an angel.” Behind those eyes with such calmness you’re sure to believe it.
He took his time with you and peeled back the soft material of your shirt and repeats it again but a little differently.
“You’re an angel.”
His words are so simple but it means a lot. It burns into your hot skin so much you wanna flinch. He got up off you and leans over you. You finally catch your breath and he looks you in the eyes. “No more thinking from here on out.” And you accepted it. So you accepted anything he gives you.
He puts his hands on your waistband and peels back your pants then throwing them to the side. Climbing over you again and kissing you. Finally kissing you, but he’s not a mess like you with how eager and impatient you’re. His hair still in a bun, clothes still on, warmth still on his skin. Hes not bothered one bit.
He’s going to have to teach you about patience. Nevermind that now. Kissing you down until you can’t breathe, getting crushed under him. Later covering you in bite marks and hickies going up and down all over your neck and chest. It just makes the thrumming in your clit more aroused.
Taking off another layer was your bra. But as cute as it is, it has to come off. And on the floor it goes.
And right now, your chest is bare.
“So divine.”
It’s blunt and sweet. Worshipful but sweet. Then he leans down to suck them. You let out a small huff trying not to moan. It was the licking you until you begged for more, then he kissed down further to your panties. Then kissing it through your panties. It’s such a warm kiss because he did it with his mouth open, and of course you mewled because it felt good. You wanted nothing more than his fingers inside you.
Pulling your panties off he spreads your legs and opens up your pussy on display separated by his broad shoulders. It’s like he’s done this before multiple times with ease. Smoothly pulling out a strong pulsing orgasm from within you.
You’re blushing, you’re excited, you’re ecstatic.
He’s not the type to tease when pleasing too much, he knows you’d break easily. But it is oh so easy to get you turned on. He licks and sucks on your clit softly just to see what would happen and you hold back. That’s not supposed to happen so he keeps going until you cum on his face. When you screamed raw he was satisfied but now it’s time to give you what you really want.
He sticks his middle finger inside your cunt and slowly adds another when you got more comfortable. Fingering you enough to make you heavy breathe every time you orgasm. Not waiting when you claw at his arm and shake through the torturing feeling inside. When you cummed hard on his hand again he pressed his thumb over your sensitive little clit and let you do whatever you felt needed to do to run away from it.
(And you can’t.)
Squirting all over his neck he sucks on you regardless of the shaking and crying. You’re not so good at running from him because it feels like he’s pinning you here. And after all that crying he starts sucking on you harsher, not out of teaching you anything, just giving you pleasure. And when you cummed violently he starts sucking harder like he wanted to bruise it. You came with a broken cry and a shuddering back.
He lifts his head up, eyes focused on you testing the question.
“You in there?”
That’s how it started.
But somewhere in the middle of it you started losing your mind. He lost his clothes too, after making you cum a few more times of course.
Suguru fucks into you like you’re precious, like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. Keeping that slow ache filled longing pace inside you, knees at your ears because he’s bent you in so many ways then keeps you packed tightly in that position forever locking you in until otherwise.
Your body is squirting and squirming under him. Tears running down your cheeks and you still need air. After multiple orgasms you didn’t know if you could take it. But he’ll convince you otherwise. And soon enough you’re crying like someone’s being mean to you. Because he is. Suguru likes asking questions if you’re too overwhelmed to understand, he knows all you can think about is his dick in your guts. Then starts rubbing on your puffy clit as if his dick wasn’t enough stimulation.
Stuttering and moaning under him you can’t take it anymore. “Fu—I—” you hold back your panting and hold your breath kicking at his back crying. It’s enough pleasure to make you tap out. But you don’t, because he makes you take it. “Suguru!” Your head lifts up and suddenly it feels heavy to use your head. He taps your forehead and your head falls back onto the couch.
“Stay.” It’s a simple command for you to follow as he stuffs you full of dick. Your clit is so sensitive from him he wants to make you sob. You repeat his name again, more neadier, and he just smiles back at you for your efforts. But now it’s time for you to orgasm. You start sobbing out.
He rolls into you with such passion, you’re already crying, a mess, a complete mumbling and mewling mess. Every single rut inside of your walls bringing you closer to space when your vision gets to a dreamy haze. He holds the back of your hair, pushing down on your stomach, he fucks into you never faltering his slow and calculating pace. Staring into your eyes, pupils expanding with salacious intensity.
You think you might be at the point of no return, in fact.
The sex he’s giving you like your warm walls are the only thing that’s heaven to him.
Like an angel was whispering in his ear to please you.
So dreamy.
so deep.
So ambivalence.
So soul shattering.
Sugurus sex makes you want to shut off your brain forever. Melting like ice in the sun under his sweaty body sexing into your messy cunt all over again.
Your ears are losing their hearing and your vision is blurry, if not your eyes are closed, spilling a warm river of tears rolling down your cheeks. White bubbles of your fluids sticking between you, pussy throbbing for more.
And again. And again. And again.
Your cum was over flowing with the slick noises when he slid in and out of you. High pitched moans coming from your throat like someone’s gonna save you. But too bad for you you’re already in his grasp. Your sobs got louder and harsher as he kept going. It feels so big it’s stretching and impaling your pussy, filling it with more cum than you already bargained for. Clit so swollen and bruised from how much he’s been touching it. He praised you through it.
“Doing so well.” You can’t answer as his hips grind his cock in your stomach and you arch your back hissing like a kitten. Not even moaning you cum on his dick again, white liquid frothing between you two.
“Poor thing, you were never gonna make it out of this, why did you think you would?”
∙ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊 · Toji can't get enough of his pregnant wife.
𝓒𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 · ꒰ 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⋮⋮ 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒋𝒊 ⋮⋮ mentions of pregnancy + childbirth ⋮⋮ reader dealing with post-partum ⋮⋮ p in v ⋮⋮ toji & his 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌 ⋮⋮ lactating ⋮⋮ breast worship ⋮⋮ 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕!milk drinking ⋮⋮ c-pied꒱
𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 : 𝒂𝒔𝒌
The baby had finally fallen asleep.
You could hear the soft even breaths from the crib across the room. Four weeks postpartum, and the nights still felt fragile, but tonight, the house was quiet. Dinner dishes sat washed in the dishwrack. The soft glow from the lamp on the nightstand was the only light left on.
Toji had been touching you all evening.
It started at the table. His hand on your thigh under the cloth, thumb stroking slow circles while you ate. Then after, when you stood to clear the plates, he came up behind you and wrapped both arms around your middle, face buried in the curve of your neck.
“Pretty,” he murmured against your skin. “Missed this.”
You leaned back into him. His body, solid and warm. The hard line of his cock pressed against the small of your back almost immediately.
Pregnancy had changed him... well it changed you as well obviously, but for toji it made him all the more caring and attentive ¹⁰ fold.
You still remembered your early months. Morning sickness that left you shaky and pale. Toji would sit on the bathroom floor with you, one big hand rubbing slow circles over your back while the other held your hair up and when the worst of it passed he would help you stand, walk you back to bed, and pull you against his chest until the nausea faded.
“I got you,” he used to say. “Just breathe for me, Doll.”
His hands never left you for long after that. If your back ached, he would ease you onto the couch and knead the tight muscles until you melted. If your feet swelled, he would lift them into his lap and press his thumbs into the arches while you dozed. At night, he'd curl around you, one arm under your head, the other draped over the growing curve of your belly, palm resting there like he was already protecting what was inside.
And the cockwarming.
He would plead for it almost every night by the second trimester.
“Please baby,” he whispered against your ear, voice low and sincere. “I just need to feel you. Just like this. You don’t have to move.”
You always said yes. Sliding down onto his thick cock in the dark, letting him fill you while you both stayed still. The stretch helped the deep ache in your hips. The heat of him inside you made the rest of the world feel smaller. He held you close, one hand stroking your belly, the other cupping a heavy breast, and stay buried for hours in you if you let him.
Your breasts had been his other obsession.
Even before the milk came he loved them. Once they grew heavy and tender he could barely keep his mouth off them. He would tug your shirt up in the middle of the afternoon and suck slowly, tongue working over the sensitive peaks until your toes curled. After the baby arrived and the milk let down he treated it like a privilege. Some evenings he would settle you in his lap, unbutton your top, and nurse from you while the baby slept in the next room, eyes half-closed like he was the one being soothed.
“Always loved these,” he would murmur between long pulls. “Even before.”
You never minded. It felt natural. It felt like it was always meant for him.
Tonight was different.
Four weeks of healing and careful touches had left him restless. The second the baby’s breathing evened out he had steered you toward the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back. Now he had you on your side in the middle of the mattress, facing the crib, his chest pressed to your spine.
He kissed the side of your neck, soft and open-mouthed.
“Pretty,” he said again. “Missed being inside you like this.”
His cock was already hard and hot against the cleft of your ass. He had pushed your sleep shorts and panties down just enough. The fat head rubbed through the wetness that had gathered the moment he started kissing you. You were still tight. The doctor had cleared you only a few days ago. Everything felt sensitive and new.
Toji reached around and cupped your lower belly with one large hand. The soft skin there was still rounded from pregnancy. He held it carefully, almost reverently, while he lined himself up.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
“It’s not,” you whispered.
He pushed in slow.
The stretch made you gasp. Your walls fluttered around the thick intrusion, still getting used to him again after the long wait. He groaned low against your neck and kept going until he was buried halfway.
“Fuck. Still so tight for me.”
He worked the rest of himself inside with careful rolls of his hips. When he finally bottomed out, he stayed still, breathing hard, the hand on your belly tightening just a little. The pressure of his palm against the soft curve felt grounding. You reached back and gripped his thigh.
“Missed this too,” you said.
He kissed the spot under your ear and started to move.
The thrusts were deep and measured at first. He kept you locked against him, chest to back, one arm under your neck, the other still wrapped around your middle. Every stroke dragged his thick cock along your walls. Slick sounds filled the quiet room. Your body opened for him the way it always had, wet and willing even after everything it had been through.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Take me. Just like that.”
He fucked you steadily, the bed shifting under the force of his hips. Your cunt clenched around him every time he sank deep. The hand on your belly never left. He held you there like he needed the reminder that you were still his, still soft and full of the life you had made together.
After a while he slowed again, almost to a stop, and just stayed buried.
“Can I stay like this a minute?” he asked, voice rough. “Please baby. I just need to feel you.”
You nodded. He exhaled against your shoulder and held you tighter. His cock throbbed inside your tight heat. The warm weight of him pressed against every sensitive place. You could feel the faint stickiness of precome already mixing with your slick.
Minutes passed. The baby slept on. Toji’s hand drifted up from your belly to cup one breast through the thin fabric of your top. He squeezed gently, thumb brushing the nipple until it beaded with a drop of milk.
“Still so full,” he said.
He tugged the neckline down and guided the heavy breast free. Then he leaned over your shoulder and took the peak into his mouth. The first long suck made your cunt flutter hard around his cock. He groaned and sucked deeper, tongue working, drawing milk while he stayed buried to the hilt.
You arched into him. The dual sensation was almost too much. His mouth on your tender breast. His thick cock stretching your still-sensitive cunt. The careful way he held your belly the entire time.
Nursing on your soft swollen breasts, switching sides when one side softened, all while his hips gave the smallest shallow thrusts that kept you full without overwhelming you. When he finally lifted his head, his lips were shiny.
“Taste like you,” he said. “Missed that too.”
He started fucking you again in earnest.
The careful rhythm gave way to deeper, harder strokes. He kept you pinned on your side, one leg hooked back over his thigh so he could sink even further. The wet slap of skin on skin grew louder. Your juices coated his shaft and dripped down onto the sheets. He kissed your neck between thrusts, murmuring soft praise against your skin.
“Love this cunt. Love how it squeezes me. Gonna fill you up again. Want you full of me.”
His hand stayed firm on your belly the whole time, holding the soft curve while he drove into you. The idea of it clearly worked on him. His breathing turned ragged. His cock swelled thicker inside you.
“Gonna make you a mommy again,” he growled against your ear. “Want another one. Want you round and soft and full of me.”
You came first.
The orgasm rolled through you in long waves, your cunt clamping down, tight around his thick shaft, milking him while you moaned into the pillow. He fucked you through it, never pulling out, chasing his own release with short hard thrusts until he buried himself as deep as he could and spilled.
Hot thick cum flooded you in heavy pulses. He held you through every one, hand still cupping your belly, mouth open against your neck as he groaned your name. When the last pulse faded he stayed locked inside, cock still twitching, the mess of both of you trapped deep.
He didn't pull out, he didn't need to.
Instead he adjusted you both until you were more comfortable on your sides, his chest still pressed to your back, his softening cock still nestled inside your pretty cunt. One hand roamed your body, stroking you tender and lovingly. The other came up to cradle the breast he had been nursing from.
“Stay like this,” he whispered. “Just for a while. Let me feel you.”
You reached back and laced your fingers through his where they rested on your stomach.
Outside the crib the baby shifted once and settled again. Inside the quiet bedroom Toji held you the same way he had through every month of the pregnancy: close, careful, and completely unwilling to let go.
His cock stayed warm inside you long into the night, and every so often he would press a soft kiss to your shoulder and murmur the same thing he had said a hundred times before.
