â . . being stuck with frenemies with benefits!satoru in a packed car
the car is way too packed.
windows fogging up from bodies crammed into a space thatâs definitely not meant for this. youâre stuck on satoruâs lap in the back, your friends loud and distracted up front with music blasting and snacks being passed around.
at first, itâs subtle when his hands settle politely on your hips. but after a few minutes you feel him shift, spreading his thighs wider so your core presses firmly against one of his thick thighs. his fingers flex, slowly starting to guide your hips in tiny movements.
you turn your head slightly and glare at him hard over your shoulder.
âsatoru, stop,â you hiss under your breath, eyes narrowed in warning.
he just smiles that tiring, infuriating smile, lips brushing your ear. âwhat? iâm just trying to get comfortable.â
you try to stay still, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but he keeps rocking you subtly, the firm muscle of his thigh dragging right against your clit through your thin shorts.
heat builds fast between your legs no matter how much you fight it. you dig your nails into his wrist, trying to still his hands, but he only tightens his grip and pulls you down harder.
âbehave,â you mutter, shooting him another sharp glare.
satoru chuckles quietly, breath warm against your neck. âyou first.â
bitch.
you hold out for a few more minutes, jaw clenched, but the constant pressure is too good. eventually your hips start moving on their own, small, reluctant rolls that turn into slow, needy grinds. you hate how quickly you give in, but the way his thigh feels against your soaked pussy is addictive.
âthatâs my girl,â he whispers smugly, one hand slipping under your hoodie to palm your breast while the other keeps guiding your movements.
youâre grinding properly now, dragging your clit along his leg in steady circles, trying desperately to stay quiet. your shorts are getting soaked, the wet patch growing on his sweats with every roll of your hips. satoruâs cock is rock hard against your ass, twitching every time you press down.
you donât notice how, suddenly, your friend in the passenger seat turns around, eyebrows furrowed.
âhey, you okay back there?â her concerned face wouldâve made your heart melt if you werenât humping satoruâs thigh under you. âyour face is super red and you look kinda hot, you getting carsick or something?â
your heart jumps, whole body freezing mid-grind, still flushed and breathing heavier than you should be.
well fuck.
before you can answer, satoru jumps in smoothly, voice casual and unbothered.
âyeah sheâs good.â you feel his thump caress the skin under your breast. âshe gets motion sickness really easily on these winding roads.â he says. âplus she wore that hoodie even though i told her itâs warm in the car. stubborn as hell.â
he gives your thigh a little squeeze under the hoodie, like heâs comforting you. you let out a weak chuckle, playing along even though your pussy is still throbbing against his thigh.
âyeah⌠iâm fine,â you manage, voice a little strained. âjust warm. thatâs all.â you drag the last part, turning to the side which is enough to give him a glare.
your friend nods and turns back around, satisfied. the second the whole attention is gone, satoruâs hand slides between your legs from the front, pressing two fingers against your clit through your soaked shorts while you keep grinding.
âclose call,â he murmurs, amused. ânow be a good girl and finish what you started.â
youâre too worked up to fight anymore. you ride his thigh harder, hips rolling desperately, chasing that tight coil of pleasure building fast in your stomach. satoru keeps rubbing your clit in tight circles, lips pressed to your shoulder to hide his own heavy breathing.
when you cum, it hits you hard. your thighs shake around his leg as you bite down on your lip to stay silent, pussy clenching and soaking his thigh completely. your whole body trembles in his lap while he holds you down, making sure you ride every wave.
after a long moment, satoru kisses the side of your neck softly, voice low and satisfied.
âgood girl⌠look at the mess you made on me.â
you stay slumped against his chest, still breathing hard, knowing this stupid friends-with-benefits thing is getting way too dangerous.
i didnât know this could be an option.. frenemies with benefits and satoru combo??? đ
Hear me out.. Dad Choso apologizing to his daughter while still fucking his cock into her...
ugh...yesss
n Dad!Choso is crying while he fucks his cock into you, begging for you to forgive him as he stuffs ur pussy with his cum one more time :( His thick cock pulsed meanly in ur walls, making you clench hard onto him, as if you were milking him for more...ahh...
He can't stop himself, the speed of his thrusts slowly builing up once more. Your pussy was just so perfect, puffy and red and all swollen from how much he'd been fucking you :( But even tho he feels sososo bad he can't stop!
Even though your pussy was all used and tired, he just kept going. It wasn't until you had weakly woken up hours later, room suddenly smelling like urine and your tummy swelling slightly with a mix of piss and cum, that you had looked up and met your teary eyed, lust filled father's face.
áĄŕ§ OFF LIMITS: Brotherâs Best friend!Satoru Gojo
áĄŕ§ synopsis: in which your brotherâs best friend, satoru gojo has spent years keeping his distance, treating you like the little sister heâs supposed to protect. but when your brother leaves town and asks him to âkeep an eye on you,â the careful line heâs been walking finally starts to crack. what was meant to be an innocent visit to check on you quickly turns into something forbidden and filthy, something neither of you can walk away from anymore.
áĄŕ§ pairings: brotherâs best friend!satoru x fem!reader
áĄŕ§ c. warnings: heavy yearning, heavy sexu-al tension (like super heavy!), emotional restraints, dry hum-ping, protected se-x, ti-ts play, sp-it play (?), mutual pining, did i say heavy se-xual tension? slight size kink, overstim, thigh rid-ing, we have an aftercare this time yayyyy! â word count: 7.2k+
youâve known satoru gojo since you were six years old and he was twelve, the loud, white-haired boy your older brother dragged home after school like a stray cat he refused to leave behind.
back then satoru was all gangly limbs and bright blue eyes, always stealing your snacks and letting you ride on his shoulders when your brother got tired of carrying you. the three of you became a little unit almost instantly. movie nights on the living room floor, summer afternoons at the park, late-night video games where satoru would let you win just to watch you cheer.
your brother was officially his best friend, but somewhere along the line the lines blurred.
you were never sure if satoru was your brotherâs best friend or yours. he was just⌠satoru. the constant reminder in your life who knew how you liked your ice cream and remembered your favorite color even when you changed it every month.
years passed and the dynamic shifted without anyone noticing at first. you grew up, and growing up consisted of puberty.
satoru grew taller, broader, more dangerously handsome with that lazy grin that made girls at school blush. but you stayed the little sister in everyoneâs eyes, the one who tagged along behind her brother and his best friend, the one who fell asleep on the couch between them during horror movies, the one satoru would tuck a blanket over with gentle hands while your brother snored on the other side.
everyone else thought like that but satoru. satoru noticed the changes. he noticed the way your legs got longer, the way your laugh got softer and feminine, the way your body filled out in ways that made his throat tight and his thoughts guilty. he told himself it was nothing. you were his best friendâs little sister, which meant youâre off-limits. and by off-limits, youâre a forbidden fruit he wasnât allowed to even look at for too long or he would rot you with his dirty thoughts.
nobody sensed how he started pulling away in small ways when you turned eighteen. longer gaps between visits, fewer sleepovers, more excuses about being busy with college and then with work. but he never stayed away completely. satoru couldnât.
every time he saw you he felt that familiar pull, the way his chest tightened when you smiled at him like he hung the moon for you. the way his cock would twitch traitorously when you wore those tiny shorts around the house in the summer every time he came over and god, he hated himself for it because right after heâs done, he would go home after and jerk off in the shower with his jaw clenched, whispering your name like a curse while hot water beat down on his back, telling himself it was the last time.
it was never the last time.
now youâre twenty-two and heâs twenty-eight. your brother still treats you like the kid who used to beg for piggyback rides. satoru still calls you âboogersâ sometimes, but the word tastes bitter on his tongue now.
the three of you still hang out, still have movie nights from time to time since satoru could never say no to your asking, he joins your family and still act like nothing has changed. but everything has. satoru can barely look at you without feeling the weight of all those years of wanting. he watches the way you move around the kitchen in your sleep shorts when youâre getting snacks ready for the movies, the way your t-shirt rides up when you reach for something on the top shelf, the way you laugh at his stupid jokes and rest your head on his shoulder like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
every innocent touch feels like torture. every time your thigh brushes his on the couch he has to fight the urge to pull you into his lap and show you exactly what you do to him.
this time your brother is out of town this weekend for a work trip he couldnât get out of.
he left satoru with the spare key and the casual instruction to âkeep an eye on her.â satoru laughed it off on the phone, responding with a choked âyeah, âcourse, i got you man.â but the second he hung up his mind was already spinning. he told himself heâd just check in once, maybe bring some takeout, make sure you werenât lonely and nothing more.
but fuck was he wrong, cause satoru only lasted exactly four hours before your text came through:
âmovie night? the new horror one just dropped. brotherâs gone so no one to complain about the jump scares :)â
he stared at the message for ten full minutes. then thatâs when he grabbed his keys, all thoughts starting to get pumped to his dick.
when he knocks on your door itâs a little after ten. you open it wearing your usual oversized, small ribbons printed t-shirt and those damn cotton shorts that have haunted his dreams for years. your skin is soft under the radiating light from the porch, face bare, and you smile at him like heâs the best part of your night.
shit. satoru feels his stomach drop.
âhey, you came,â you say, stepping aside to let him in. your voice is casual, warm, the kind of voice that used to make him feel safe and now makes his cock stir in his sweatpants.
âcouldnât let you watch horror alone,â he replies, forcing that tired, loose grin. he holds up the bag of snacks like a peace offering. âbrought the good stuff.â
you laugh and it hits him straight in the chest. he follows you to the living room, trying not to stare at the way the hem of your shorts teases him in front of him. the fabric riding up with every step. the tv is already on, lights dimmed, blankets piled on the couch. you settle in your usual spot, patting the cushion beside you. satoru sits, puts the snacks down onto the coffee table, leaving what he hopes is a respectful distance, but you immediately scoot closer, tucking your legs under you and leaning your head against his shoulder like always.
maybe your nickname was not supposed to be boogers but dumbass cause you donât seem to take sign on how youâre making it hard for him to stay normal and sane. or so he thought.
the movie starts. the opening credits roll. satoru tries to focus on the screen. he really does. but all he can feel is the warmth of your body against his side, the soft press of your bare thigh against his, the faint vanilla scent of your shampoo. his hand rests on the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder when he shifts.
every innocent touch feels loaded tonight. the house is too quiet without your brotherâs loud commentary. itâs just you and him and years of unspoken tension hanging heavy in the dark.
halfway through the first act you stretch, arms lifting above your head, shirt riding up to show a strip of soft stomach. satoruâs eyes flick down before he can stop them, fingers twitching not to touch you and when you settle again your leg presses fully against his. he doesnât move away. instead his fingers brush your shoulder again, slower this time, thumb stroking once along your skin.
âcold?â he asks, voice quieter than he means.
you shake your head, tilting your face up to look at him. your eyes are soft in the glow of the tv. âno. just getting comfortable.â
he swallows hard. his hand drops from the couch to rest lightly on your upper arm, thumb still stroking slow circles. the touch is supposed to be casual but it isnât. at least thatâs what satoru knows.
the movie keeps playing but the man sitting next to you is not really watching anymore. the air between you feels thicker, warmer, charged with everything youâve both been pretending doesnât exist for years.
satoruâs jaw clenches. he can feel his cock starting to thicken in his sweatpants, the traitorous heat building low in his gut. he tells himself to stop. he tells himself youâre his best friendâs little sister. he tells himself a lot of things.
you shift again, turning slightly so your knee brushes his thigh. and lord knows how heâs struggling not to make a sound, especially when your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak.
âsatoru?â
he looks down at you, blue eyes dark in the low light. âyeah?â
you bite your lip, just for a second, and the small movement sends another rush of blood straight to his cock.
âyouâve been really quiet tonight.â
fuck.
he forces a laugh, but it comes out strained. âam i?â he asks. âjust focused on the movie.â his reply doesnât satisfy you and you donât look convinced so your hand rests lightly on his chest, right over his heart. âliar.â you call him out.
liarâŚ
the sting of the word is heavy because satoru is not the only one suffering alone here, youâre a liar as well. and youâre pretending none of this is eating you alive when thatâs exactly how itâs been for you since satoru came to your house.
youâve been stiff as a board since the moment you sat down, even though youâre trying so hard to act normal. you can feel it in the way his shoulder has gone tight under your cheek, the way his breathing isnât quite as steady as usual, the way his long fingers keep flexing against the couch like he doesnât know what to do with them.
the tv flickers soft blue light across both of you, painting shadows over his sharp jaw and the faint flush creeping up his neck, but youâre not watching the movie anymore. youâre watching him, noticing every detail.
your hand stays light on his chest, right over his heart, and you can feel how fast itâs beating under your palm. thump-thump-thump, way too quick for someone whoâs supposedly just chilling on the couch. you shift a little closer, letting your bare thigh press more firmly against his â testing water â and thatâs when you notice it full.
the soft, heavy bulge under the dark blue-black sweatpants heâs wearing. itâs not fully hard yet, but itâs definitely there, thickening slowly against the loose fabric, the outline just visible every time the tv screen flashes brighter. your stomach flips, heat pooling low between your legs because you did that. youâre doing that to him right now, just by sitting here in your tiny shorts with your head on his shoulder like you always have.
the tension sits thick and heavy between you, wrapping around every small movement. every time you breathe, your chest brushes his arm.
every time he shifts, his thigh presses harder against yours. the air feels warmer than it should, like the room itself is holding its breath along with both of you. you can smell his cologne mixed with the faint mint from his gum, and underneath it all something warmer, something that makes your mouth water.
satoruâs hand on your upper arm hasnât stopped moving. his thumb keeps stroking those slow, careful circles, but now each pass feels heavier, more deliberate, like heâs fighting the urge to slide his whole palm down your skin.
you tilt your head up a little more, letting your breath fan across the side of his neck. his jaw clenches. you watch the muscle jump, watch the way his adamâs apple bobs when he swallows. the bulge in his sweatpants twitches again, growing thicker, the fabric starting to tent just enough that you can see the clear shape of him.
your own body reacts instantly, a warm rush between your thighs, your nipples tightening under the thin t-shirt. youâre suddenly aware of how little youâre wearing, how your shorts exposed so much skin the bottom curve of your ass is almost showing, how your shirt keeps slipping off one shoulder no matter how many times you fix it.
satoruâs fingers tighten on your arm for half a second before he forces them to relax. his breathing has gone shallow. you can feel the heat pouring off him, the way his thigh muscles are locked tight under your leg. the movie keeps playing, some girl screaming on screen, but none of you flinch and the only sound that matters is the quiet hitch in his breath when your knee accidentally nudges higher up his leg, brushing right against the side of that growing bulge.
he doesnât pull away. he stays perfectly still, like moving even an inch might break whatever fragile control he has left.
you bite your lip, heart hammering so loud youâre sure he can hear it. the flush on your neck is spreading, warm and prickly, and a tiny bead of sweat is already forming at the small of your back. you feel sticky and hot and aching, and all youâve done is sit here with your head on his shoulder.
the years of quiet âwantingâ press in harder tonight, sharper because your brother isnât here to act as a buffer. itâs just you and satoru and the heavy, suffocating knowledge that youâre both thinking about the same thing.
satoru clears his throat suddenly, the sound rough and forced. he shifts, moving his arm from around you, and stands up in one quick motion. his sweatpants do nothing to hide how hard he is now, the thick outline pressing obviously against the front, the fabric stretched tight. he keeps his back half-turned to you like that will somehow fix it.
âuh⌠i need some water,â he mutters, voice low and strained. âor a coke. something cold.â
you sit up slowly, fixing your shirt so it covers your shoulder again, but it doesnât help much. your skin feels too warm, a light sheen of sweat already making the back of your neck sticky. your cheeks are flushed, you can feel the heat in them, and between your legs youâre starting to get embarrassingly wet, the thin cotton of your panties clinging to you. you swallow, trying to sound normal even though your voice comes out a little breathy.
âoh yeah, okay. itâs in the fridge. you know your way around.â
satoru nods once, still not fully facing you, and heads toward the kitchen. his shoulders are stiff, steps a little too deliberate, like heâs forcing himself to put distance between you. you stay on the couch, legs pressed together, heart still racing and satoru disappears into the kitchen.
you stay on the couch, legs pressed tight together, trying to calm the flutter between your thighs. the movie is still playing but the sound feels distant, like itâs happening in another room. you can hear him open the fridge, the soft clink of a can, the quiet hiss when he cracks it open. a few seconds later he walks back in, coke in one hand, the other rubbing the back of his neck like heâs trying to shake something off.
heâs too distracted to consider bringing you one.
he looks at you for a long moment before he sits down again, this time leaving a little more space between your bodies but it doesnât help.
the air still feels charged, heavy with everything neither of you has said out loud. you notice the way his sweatpants still sit a little awkwardly, the thick line of his cock not fully softened, pressing against the fabric every time he shifts, manspread awkwardly.
your own skin is warm and sticky, a faint sheen of sweat on your neck and between your breasts, your nipples tight and sensitive under the thin t-shirt.
satoru takes a long sip of the coke, throat working, then sets the can on the coffee table. when he leans back against the couch his arm brushes yours again, and this time he doesnât pull away. his fingers find your shoulder once more, but instead of the casual thumb strokes from before, his whole palm settles there, warm and heavy.
it seems heâs calmed a bit.. which means youâre the one whoâs suffering hundred percent.
âyou okay?â he asks, voice low, a little rough around the edges.
you nod, but it feels like a lie. âyeah⌠just warm in here.â
his eyes flick down to the flushed skin of your neck, then lower to where your shirt has slipped off your shoulder again. he doesnât say anything, but his thumb starts brushing the bare skin near your collarbone. the touch is slow, almost absent, but it sends heat straight down your spine. you shift like youâre under a spell without thinking, your bare thigh sliding against his again, and this time your knee nudges right against the side of his cock through the sweatpants.
satoru inhales sharply. his hand slides from your shoulder down your arm, stopping at your wrist. his thumb presses lightly against your pulse point, feeling how fast your heart is racing.
âyouâre shaking,â he murmurs.
âso are you,â you whisper back.
the only light flickering on both of you is the glow from the tv, casting soft blue and white across both of you. satoru turns his head to look at you fully, blue eyes dark and conflicted, pupils blown wide as if heâs high. his free hand comes up, hesitating for half a second before he cups the side of your face, thumb brushing your lower lip.
âthis is a bad idea,â he says, eyes dancing over your lips but he doesnât sound convinced. his voice is thick, breath warm against your mouth.
âthen why does it feel so good?â you have no idea how words are forming in your mouth when your brain disconnected from your tongue a long time ago, and the only option you have is leaning into his touch.
he lets out a quiet, broken sound, half groan, half sigh. his thumb presses a little harder against your lip, parting it slightly. you part your lips more, letting the tip of his thumb slip just inside, brushing against your tongue. satoruâs eyes flutter for a second, jaw tight.
âfuck⌠youâre killing me.â
you suck gently on his thumb, just enough to make his breath hitch. his other hand slides down to your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt like heâs anchoring himself. the tension snaps slowly, like a rubber band stretching thinner and thinner until it finally gives.
satoru pulls his thumb from your mouth with a wet sound and replaces it with his lips. the kiss starts soft, almost careful, lips sliding together warm and slow. but the second you make a small needy sound in the back of your throat he deepens it, tongue licking into your mouth, hot and hungry. years of holding back pour into that kiss, all the stolen glances, all the guilty nights in the shower, all the times he told himself no.
his hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he pulls you sideways until youâre straddling one of his thick thighs. the moment your core settles over the hard muscle you both moan quietly into the kiss. your soaked panties press right against his leg, the thin cotton already clinging to your folds from how wet you are. satoruâs fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass, guiding you into a slow, rolling grind.
you start moving. slow, deliberate rocks of your hips that drag your swollen clit along the firm muscle of his thigh. every pass makes the fabric of your shorts and panties rub against you, the friction hot and slick and perfect. each roll pushes more wetness out of you, soaking the cotton until it clings transparently to your pussy. satoru groans low in his chest when he feels the damp heat spreading across his thigh, his cock twitching hard in his sweatpants, the thick head nudging against your inner thigh with every grind.
he breaks the kiss with a wet sound, lips shiny, breathing ragged. his mouth trails down your neck, sucking softly at the sensitive skin, then lower, until his lips brush over your collarbone. when he reaches your chest he doesnât push your shirt up. instead he closes his mouth around one of your pebbled nipples right through the thin fabric.
the sensation is immediate and filthy. his tongue swirls slow and heavy over the stiff peak, soaking the cotton instantly. warm spit seeps through the material, making it cling to your breast, turning the white fabric translucent.
he sucks gently at first, then harder, pulling your nipple deeper into his mouth while his tongue flicks fast and wet. the wet patch grows, dark and shiny, the outline of your hard nipple completely visible through the soaked shirt. every pull of his mouth sends sharp sparks straight to your clit, making your hips roll faster against his thigh.
âmmh⌠fuck,â he groans against your chest, the vibration traveling through the damp fabric. âlook at you. letting me cover you with my spit. your bodyâs so fucking readyfor me already, yeah?â
he switches to the other nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth with a wet, obscene sound. more drool collects from the corners of his lips, smearing down the front of your shirt in shiny trails, soaking the fabric until both your tits are glistening and see-through. the cool air hits the wet patches and makes your nipples ache even more, stiff and sensitive under his relentless mouth. he keeps sucking noisily, alternating between slow, deep pulls and quick flicks of his tongue, you could swear his spit is probably dripping down your stomach now, making the front of your shirt stick to your skin.
youâre grinding harder, hips rolling in needy little circles, clit dragging over his thigh with every movement. the friction is slick and constant, your soaked panties sliding against the hard muscle, the wet sounds of fabric rubbing together mixing with the filthy noises his mouth makes on your chest. your hands are in his white hair, tugging gently, soft whimpers and gasps spilling from your lips every time he sucks particularly hard.
satoruâs cock is throbbing visibly in his sweatpants, the thick ridge pressing insistently against your inner thigh, leaking enough that a small dark spot has formed at the front. every time you grind forward the head of his cock nudges closer to your core, teasing you both with how close he is to where you both desperately want him to be.
he pulls back just enough to look at the mess heâs made. your shirt is completely ruined, plastered transparently to your tits, nipples dark and shiny with his spit, little droplets still sliding down your stomach. his eyes are heavy-lidded, breathing ragged, lips swollen and wet.
âso fucking pretty,â he murmurs, voice rough and low. âyâknow how iâve been dreaming about marking you up like this for years? look how filthy i got you⌠your brother will fuck me up.â
he leans in again, mouth latching back onto your nipple through the drenched fabric, sucking harder while his hands grip your ass tighter, helping you grind faster against him. the wet, messy sounds fill the room â his mouth sucking noisily, your slick panties sliding over his thigh, both of you breathing hard and shaky.
the tension is thick and suffocating, every slow grind and every wet kiss pushing you both closer to the edge without either of you saying it out loud yet.
after what feels like euphorically forever, satoru pulls back from your chest with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen, eyes heavy as he looks at the absolute mess heâs made of your shirt.
his breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling fast under his hoodie, and for a second he just stares at you like he canât believe this is real. then his hand slips down, fingers dipping into the pocket of his sweatpants, and he pulls out a small foil packet. the condom glints under the dim light, and you raise a brow, lips parting in quiet surprise.
he catches the look and just shrugs, a lazy, almost sheepish tilt of his shoulders, causing your cheeks flushing darker. âhad to,â he mutters, voice low and rough, like the words are being dragged out of him. âcouldnât risk it. not with you.â
you let out a soft, cheeky laugh, the sound breathy and teasing even though your heart is hammering. âyouâve always wanted to fuck me, huh?â
satoruâs brows knit together instantly, that familiar stern little frown pulling at his face, but his eyes stay dark and hungry. âthatâs a vulgar word, boogers,â he says, the nickname slipping out like habit, but thereâs no real bite to it. he leans in and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to the tip of your nose, lips brushing there gently before he pulls back just enough to look at you again. âi want to make you feel good. thatâs all.â
you groan, half playful, half frustrated, and swat your hand lightly against his chest. âstop calling me boogers, toru. seriously!â
he just hums, low and warm, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hands slide to your hips. he helps lift you a little higher on your knees, giving himself room, and shoves his sweatpants and briefs down in one smooth motion. they pool around his calves, leaving his thick cock springing free, heavy and flushed, the head already glistening.
he tears the foil packet open with his teeth, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet room, and the sweet strawberry scent of the condom fills the small space between your bodies, fruity and almost too innocent for how filthy this feels.
satoru rolls it down his girthy tip first, jaw tightening as the latex stretches over him. a soft, broken whimper slips out of him when the cool material slides along his sensitive head, his hips twitching once before he rolls it all the way to the base with steady fingers. the condom sits snug, shiny and strawberry-sweet, the faint pink tint of it catching the tv light. he looks up at you then, eyes dark and solemn, waiting.
his hands move to your shorts and panties next, hooking into the waistband and sliding them down your thighs together in one slow tug.
you lift your hips to help, and the soaked fabric peels away from your pussy with a wet sound, leaving you completely bare from the waist down. he doesnât stop there. his fingers catch the hem of your spit-drenched shirt and peel it up and off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. now youâre completely naked in his lap, skin flushed and glowing under the flickering light, tits still shiny with his dirty work, pussy glistening and swollen from all the grinding.
satoru is still mostly dressed, only his hoodie on, sweatpants and briefs shoved down to his calves, the contrast making everything feel even unholy. he licks a bold stripe across his palm, tongue dragging slow and wet, then reaches between you and swipes the slick hand over your folds. the touch is warm and deliberate, fingers spreading your wetness, thumb brushing your clit once before he grips the base of his cock and guides the thick, condom-covered head to your entrance.
he presses in slow, so slow, the blunt tip stretching you open inch by careful inch. his brows knit tight with concentration, eyes locked on your face, watching for any flicker of pain or discomfort. you feel every thick ridge as he sinks deeper, the stretch burning sweet and full, your walls fluttering around him.
your eyes start to haze, lashes fluttering, jaw going slack as the overwhelming sensation of being filled by him hits you. your breathing stutters, lips parted on a silent gasp, completely detached for a moment while your body adjusts to the heavy, girthy length pushing inside.
satoru knew you were small compared to him but never did he think youâd be struggling to fit his fat cock in your tight cunt this much.
satoru stays perfectly still once he bottoms out, hips flush against yours, breathing hard through his nose. his hands grip your waist tight, thumbs stroking soothing circles on your skin as he waits, watching the way your eyes glaze over and your jaw hangs open. the strawberry scent mixes with the sharp smell of your arousal, the room quiet except for the low hum of the credit scene of the horror movie and the sound of both of you trying to breathe through the intensity.
âcan i move?â he asks, voice low and calculated, almost a whisper, like heâs afraid to break the moment. his brows are still knitted, waiting for any sign from you.
you canât find words right away. instead you just tap his shoulder once, twice, a small, mute signal that youâre okay, that you want this. satoru exhales shakily, relief and hunger mixing in the sound, and he starts to move.
at first itâs slow, careful rolls of his hips that drag his thick cock along your walls, the stretch burning so good it makes your breath hitch. you start grinding down to meet him, hips rolling in small, needy circles, your slick coating the base of his cock and smearing messily over the soft, dark trail of hair that runs from his navel down to where he disappears inside you. every grind leaves a shiny trail of your wetness glistening on his skin, the wet sounds squelching in the quiet room.
youâre vocal in little bursts, whispers of his name slipping out between shaky breaths. âsatoru⌠toruâŚâ the words are breathy, almost reverent, filling the living room like a secret. your hands slide up his hoodie, fingers digging into his chest as you grind harder, chasing the friction, the fullness, the way he fills you so completely.
âtoo big.. youâreâ toru, fuuuck,â you cry out.
satoru leans back against the couch, arms dropping to his sides for a moment, face going almost numb with pleasure. his blue eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, white hair messy and falling into his face as he watches you ride him. he looks completely under your spell, like the sight of you naked and grinding on his cock has short-circuited his brain. the curve of his cock jerks inside you when you desperately grab his hand and bring it to your tits, pressing his palm against the soft, post spit-slick flesh.
that seems to snap him back. his face shifts from dazed to focused in an instant, intention clear in the way his jaw tightens. he wants to make you feel good. thatâs all he cares about right now.
âi got you, yeah? âm here.â
he braces himself, planting his heels firmly on the floor, one arm wrapping tight around your hips while the other hand stays on your breast, fingers tweaking and rolling your nipple between them. then he starts fucking up into you. the first thrust is deep and powerful, hips snapping up so his cock drives into you harder, the angle perfect, the thick head rubbing right against that spongy spot inside you that makes your vision spark.
âthatâs it, baby,â he murmurs, voice wrecked but steady, focused entirely on you. âfeel good? tell me if itâs too much.â
he sets a rhythm, slow at first but building, each upward thrust meeting your downward grind, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. his arm around your hips keeps you steady, guiding you, while his fingers keep playing with your nipple, pinching and tugging just enough to send sparks straight to your clit. every time he bottoms out you whimper his name again, softer, breathier, your slick continuing to smear over his happy trail and the base of his cock, making everything messy and shiny.
satoruâs eyes never leave your face. he watches every twitch of your expression, every time your lips part on a moan, every time your eyes flutter. his whole focus is on you, on making sure every thrust feels perfect, on drawing out those little whispers of his name until they turn into broken cries. he fucks up into you with controlled power, the condom sliding slickly inside your soaked pussy, sweat mixing with the sharp smell of sex.
he leans forward slightly, mouth finding your other nipple again, sucking it into his mouth through the remnants of dried spit still on your skin, tongue swirling while he keeps thrusting. the dual sensation â his cock dragging inside you and his mouth on your breast â makes your back arch, a louder moan spilling out this time.
âgood girl,â he breathes against your wet skin, voice low and praising. âtaking me so well. just let me make you feel good, yeah? thatâs all i want.â
his hips keep snapping up, steady and deep, the arm around your waist holding you down so you take every inch while his fingers keep working your nipple and his mouth keeps sucking the other. the living room fills with the wet sounds of him fucking into you, your soft whispers of his name, and the heavy breathing of two people who have waited years for this exact moment.
satoru keeps that steady, deep rhythm, hips rolling up into you with controlled power while his mouth stays busy on your tits.
every upward thrust drags his thick, condom-covered cock along your walls, the head catching perfectly against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. his arm around your waist holds you down on his cock, the wet slap of skin meeting skin growing louder, messier, your slick continuing to smear over his happy trail and the base of his cock until the dark hair glistens with it.
he switches between sucking one nipple and tweaking the other with his fingers, tongue swirling slow and wet, spit dripping down your chest in shiny trails that catch the flickering tv light.
youâre riding him but barely, your hips grinding in small, desperate circles while he does most of the work, fucking up into you with deep, purposeful strokes that make your breath hitch every single time he bottoms out. your hands clutch at his hoodie, nails digging into the fabric as soft, broken whispers of his name keep slipping out â âtoru⌠satoruâŚâ â the fruity scent of the condom mixes with the sharp smell of sex, filling the dark living room until itâs all you can breathe.
your legs start to twitch first. the muscles in your thighs quiver against his sides, small, uncontrollable tremors that travel down to your calves.
satoru notices immediately. his eyes flick down, watching the way your knees shake beside his hips, the subtle way your body is starting to tighten and flutter around him. a low, knowing hum vibrates in his chest and he shifts beneath you, sliding one arm under the knee closest to him. with a smooth, effortless motion he hooks it up and presses it toward your chest, folding you open even wider while youâre still on top of him.
the new angle spreads you so much more, your pussy stretching tighter around his cock, the head dragging harder against that perfect spot with every thrust.
you gasp sharply, the sound cracking in the back of your throat as the deeper penetration hits you all at once. satoruâs other arm stays banded around your waist, holding you steady, and now heâs fully in control even though youâre on top. he fucks up into you with stronger, deeper strokes, hips snapping with purpose, the wet squelch of your soaked pussy taking him echoing louder in the quiet room.
âcâmon, youâre gonna bless me, baby?â he murmurs against your neck, voice rough and focused. âcome on my cock, there you go. you just gotta feel it.â
your riding turns sloppy, hips stuttering as the pressure builds fast and overwhelming. your legs tremble harder, the one heâs holding to your chest shaking visibly. your walls start to flutter and clench around him in tight, rhythmic pulses, your slick gushing out around the base of his cock with every thrust. satoru groans low when he feels it, but he doesnât slow down. he keeps driving up into you, steady and relentless, the arm under your knee keeping you spread wide and open for him.
you come hard.
your whole body folds forward suddenly, chest pressing against his as a broken, whining cry tears from your throat, your mouth is open and breathing straight into his mouth. your pussy clamps down around his cock in strong, pulsing waves, gushing wet and hot around him even through the condom. tears slip down your flushed cheeks, eyes squeezing shut while you sob his name in soft, overwhelmed whimpers â âtoru⌠fuck, toruâŚâ â your hips jerking and twitching uncontrollably as the orgasm crashes through you.
satoru keeps fucking you through it, slower now but still deep, drawing out every pulse and every shaky sob. his hand on your waist rubs soothing circles while the other keeps your leg folded to your chest, holding you open so he can feel every flutter and gush. he presses soft kisses to your temple, your wet cheek, murmuring quiet praise against your skin as you tremble and cry in his lap, completely spent and folded against him.
tsatoru holds you close through the last trembling waves of your orgasm, his cock still buried deep inside your fluttering pussy. he presses gentle kisses to your damp temple then your flushed cheek, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back while you come down.
âiâm.. fuck, youâre so good to me.â the way he grunts those words out shows you heâs not done yet.
his grip tightens on your waist and under your knee, and he starts fucking up into you again â deeper than you thought was possible. each thrust is slow, powerful, and deliberate, driving his thick cock so far inside you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
the new angle has the head of his cock pressing right against that spot with every upward snap of his hips, stretching you open wider, filling you fuller than youâve ever been filled. the wet, filthy sounds of him plunging deep into your soaked pussy echo in the quiet living room, your slick leaking out around the base of his cock and dripping down his balls with every thrust.
âshit⌠so deep,â he groans against your ear, voice wrecked and low. âcan you feel me, baby? feel how deep iâm getting? thatâs it⌠take every inch.â
he fucks you with long, grinding strokes, hips rolling up hard and steady, the arm under your knee keeping you folded and spread so he can bury himself to the hilt every single time. your body jolts with each thrust, tits bouncing against his chest, soft cries and whimpers spilling from your mouth as the overstimulation turns into another building wave of pleasure.
satoruâs breathing grows ragged, his thrusts turning sharper, more desperate, the slap of skin on skin getting louder as he chases his own release.
âgonna come,â he pants, forehead pressed to yours, blue eyes dark and hazy. âgonna fill you up⌠fuck, you feel too good.â
he drives in deep one last time, hips stuttering as he buries himself as far as he can go.
âfuuuck,â a low, broken groan tears from his throat as he comes hard, cock pulsing thick and hot inside the condom while he grinds against you, drawing out every last spurt. his whole body trembles under you, arms locked tight around your frame as he empties himself, the strawberry-scented latex stretching with every heavy pulse.
for a long moment the only sounds are your shaky breathing and his quiet groans. he stays buried deep inside you, holding you close, the leg he had hooked to your chest gently lowered back down so you can relax against him. slowly, carefully, he pulls out, tying off the condom and setting it aside before he gathers you fully into his arms.
satoru shifts so youâre both lying on the couch, your smaller body draped over his chest, his hoodie soft against your bare skin. he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch (you didnât notice that was there from the beginning.) over both of you, tucking it gently around your shoulders. one hand strokes slow, soothing lines up and down your back, the other cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.
âyou okay?â he murmurs, voice soft and rough at the same time. he presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips â gentle, lingering kisses that feel like apologies and promises all at once. âdid i hurt you? was it too much?â
you shake your head against his chest, still catching your breath, and he hums in quiet relief. he keeps touching you. slow strokes along your spine, gentle kisses to your shoulder, his palm rubbing warm circles over your lower back where youâre still a little sore. every touch is careful, tender, like heâs trying to memorize the way you feel in his arms now that the line has finally been crossed.
and now that his time with you is very limited. by limited:
âyour brother told me to keep an eye on you,â the topic feels heavy already when he says it after a while, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips as he looks down at you. his fingers keep tracing lazy patterns on your skin. âif this is what it takes⌠so be it.â
so be the risk of making the person, his person whom he lovâ
realization hits and splashes on satoru like a bucket filled with water and ice. satoru loves. satoru loves you. he is in love, satoru loves someone who is a very much forbidden person.
he pulls you closer, wrapping both arms around you fully, the thought of your brother finding what he did to you can be stressed over for later, what matters now is your naked body tucked safely against his mostly-clothed one. the tv is still playing a new trailer for next movie faintly in the background, completely ignored.
satoru holds you like that for a long time â warm, steady, protective â pressing soft kisses to wherever his lips can reach, murmuring quiet praises and gentle nonsense until your breathing evens out and your eyes start to drift shut.
âtoru, do you think this is okay?â your voice is muffled with how youâre both tangled together. he doesnât reply at first so you take it as a sign to continue. âwhat are we gonna do after this? what if my brotââ
âiâve got you,â he cuts you off with a whisper against your hair, one last kiss pressed to the top of your head. âalways have and nothing will happen, just take some rest and weâll deal with it tomorrow.â
he can feel your body relaxing the moment he says that and satoru smiles a little, his heart swelling of fonding.
the living room feels smaller and warmer now, the weight of years of tension finally settling into something softer, something real, as satoru keeps holding you close under the blanket, his hand never stopping its gentle strokes along your back before he himself is dozing off from reality.
feeling too tired from his post nut session his brain is blank.
guys am i made for long fics or should i just stick to my regular short drabbles/blurbs? I WANT TO KNOW!
Simon has been eating the pussy for 30 minutes now, slow strokes with his tongue. He pulls back everytime he feels it twitch, not wanting it to cum just yet. The poor thing is even more swollen and puffy now, slick leaking down to somewhere he canât see.
Finally he presses two fingers inside and that must be enough because the cunt convulses around his digits, fluid dribbling around his fingers and he leans in to lick up the mess.
~
âFuck! Kyle!â His girlfriend whines, hips bucking against invisible forces as Simon makes her cum. Her nails digging into his arms as he hold her against him, knowing sheâll need the anchor.
âDoing so good dove.â He praises and kisses her temple.
~
As the pussy twitches, Simon attaches the disk to the fleshlight, needing a better grip for whatâs about to happen next. He pushes his chair back, undoing his sleep slacks and pulling it down just enough to release his cock.
It twitches in his hand as he smears the pre around his tip with his thumb. Heâs breathing heavily as the grabs the toy, rubbing the enter length of his cock against the pussy lips so the owner knows how big of a cock theyâre about to take.
Hissing, he presses the slightest bit in before pulling out, teasing himself as his cock slips out and ruts between the slick lips again. The next time he presses his tip against the entrance, he pushes deeper. Warmth and slick welcome him inside, milking him in deeper.
âSo fuckenâ tight.â He curses, holding onto the fleshlight in both hands, either to control how fast or slow he should go, heâs unsure.
He groans loudly, head rolling back as he pushes in deeper. The walls flutter around his shaft and his hips jerk at the sensation. Fuck itâs been too long. Heâs already made this cunt cum, now itâs his turn.
There no gentleness as he bounces the toy up and down his cock, going deeper and deeper inside with each thrust. Huffing, he grips the arm rest of his chair as his hips start meeting every downward stroke. All Simon can focus on is his pleasure as he gets off inside this pussy, a milking ring encompassing his girth. Itâs not long afterwards that he cums inside it, not caring if this could actually cause the pussy on the other side to be bred or not.
He slowly pulls out his slick cock, watching as a fat glob of his cum spits out of the used cunt as it clenches around nothing. He flicks it off, creamed pussy disappearing and heading to bed.
~
âGod Kyle- he-.â His girlfriend pants, body lax against his. âSo big⌠so much cumâŚâ She moans as he pulls off the portal panties.
He groans lowly as he sees the mess Simon left behind. âIâll get you cleaned up and make you cum one more time for being such a good girl for me and LT.â
Imagine alpha!ghost being the only one in your pack available to help you with your heat, right?
You have to take a break from blockers eventually, and it just so happens that ghost is the only one not on a mission, nest-trapped with a sprained wrist.
You...well, you think what anyone would think looking at ghost.
Giant of a guy, even by alpha standards, scent always a bit sour. You've never known ghost to be anything but rough, even in his pack affection. He scrubs a wrist into your neck instead of scenting properly, doesn't hesitate to scruff even gaz, or snap his teeth at price.
You expect pain, definitely. The sting of fangs across your skin and a knot forced too soon. An efficient heat, comfort not the focus.
Instead, you get...this.
"C'mon, lovie, it's okay." Ghost rumbles, deep and alpha-confident in the nest. You can't suppress the whine his rumble draws out, tucking closer to his neck. Ghosts scent is thick and warm, more intense than you've smelt before, nose pressed right against the glands.
One hand guides your hips over his cock, not controlling but supporting the movements you make. Allows you to set the pace with a shudder. You wonder if he's this nice with gaz or price, if he lets them cuddle up and ride until they beg for a knot. The thought of your packmates makes you whine more, and two thick arms wrap around to trap you against his body.
"Mmh, alright then? Had enough?" Ghost hums, not exactly to you, cloudy as you are. He holds you still and works his hips into you, rubbing all along the places that make you melt and purr. Ghosts own scent turns honey-sweet at the sound, and not long after he gives you your first knot of many.
Your heat is syrup melting into your mind. Ghost makes it sweet and warm, makes it so damn nice you mourn going back to the rough love he prefers. How an alpha like him can find any sort of softness is beyond you.
Still, you might have to switch out your blockers for more frequent breaks if this is what you're getting.
Taking the to-go cup of coffee you threw out in the trash and bringing it to his lips, imagining how the sugary drink coating his tongue tastes like the inside of your mouth. Throwing his head back to get every last drop.
Ghost who's always forgetting his own cigarettes and takes one from you. Is that your last one? Don't worry, he doesn't mind sharing it, also ignore the prolonged eye contact when he passes it back. As soon as you leave, he pockets the cigarette stump, perioadically sucking on it in his room for the rest of the day.
Simon who stole your favourite spoon one time, but had to return it subtly because you refused to eat with any other one. He waits until you're done eating and then very generously offers to do the dishes just so he can take his time licking your spoon, sucking on the bits of food until it's clean.
Ghost who you find sleeping with your dirty sheets on his bed and try subtly asking him if he has money problems. He says he just mixed up the laundry in the dark and you choose to believe him because he pays the bigger part of the rent. It's a good thing he had his balaclava on, otherwise you could have seen the flushed expression on his face or maybe his clothes thrown off the side of the bed, barely containing not to touch himself while talking to you.
More than a few times he roams through your laundry, by this time having learned all your favourite pairs of underwear. He brings the material to his nose, inhaling deeply as his eyes roll inside his head. Some of them never make it back to you, but just know they were well loved in Simon's hands. He got a little too excited and now they're ruined, he'll make it up to you.
Gaz has been staring at ghost in stunned silence for the past five minutes.
"Ghost, mate," he places a hand on ghosts bicep, if only to make sure he's not hallucinating "what do you mean there's a stranger in your apartment??"
Ghost shrugs, casual, as if he didn't just tell gaz about how he came home two weeks ago to find the lights on and fresh food in his kitchen that he hasn't been in for months. "Means what it means, innit. Nice bloke."
"You've talked to them?!" Gazs voice rises in pitch, astonished. He follows after ghost, feeling like he's suddenly on an alien planet "and they're still there?? Ghost!"
"Yeah. Decent company." Is all ghost says before turning the corner to head to his little apartment.
When ghost gets back, just as its been for the past two weeks, you're sat on his counter eating cereal. The house smells faintly of citrus, a welcome change. You've also managed to clean the bloodstain around his fridge that ghost had come to terms as being permanent. Huh.
He's pretty sure you're some sort of criminal in hiding, but he likes having the company around. You two never really speak to eachother but you use the cash he leaves out to buy groceries, and you don't comment when he stands too close or comes back in the middle of the night covered in dirt and blood.
Hell, you didn't even comment when he accidentally crashed on the sofa you were sleeping on after a bad night. In fact, you two practically share a bed at this point. Ghost doesn't care what gaz has to say, he likes having you around.
....he should probably get your name though...right?
Ghost is used to eating weird, thrown together food.
He grew up in the kind of family that could make a meal out of the last two slices of non-moldy bread and a cup of yogurt, then moved right into the military and ate exclusively food from the mess hall because it was cheap. Without fail, a skinner, younger simon could be seen in the mess scarfing down food and offering to finish off others leftovers.
Which is to say, ghost has a...skewed perception of what actually constitutes a proper lunch.
A fact that leaves you horrified when he pulls out the grocery bag you're sure he just grabbed off the floor when he made his 'lunch' that morning.
"Ghost...sir...what the hell is that." You point accusingly at the tupperware in front of him with your fork. A can of chicken, a handful of loose spinach, three gummy worms loose in the corner. "That is not your lunch. No way."
ghost looks down at his meal blankly, as if he sees nothing wrong. You watch as he peels open the can of chicken and drinks the water from it, an action that ears a gag from kyle next to him, and grunts "s food, innit? Fockin' protein, an' veg."
"No. No, absolutely notâ" you gasp, then look accusingly at soap and gaz "you guys let him eat that?? Do you feel no shame?"
"You should've been here for the wasabi phase. Put it on everything." Gaz snorts. Obviously the rest of the team is used to ghosts...oddities.
You, however, are not.
Which is how you end up bringing in two lunch boxes the next day. Both of them themed to match the thermos of tea you brought. Ghost stares at it when you place it in front of him, only moving when you shove it closer and huff "it's not a bomb, sir. Christ, just eat it."
You open yours at the same time ghost does, having cooked a larger portion of what you had planned for yourself. Simple food, chicken and rice with some steamed veg on the side, all things you've seen ghost eat.
Ghost looks near tears when he takes the first bite. He finishes it in three minutes, despite your desperate pleading to "slow down! You'll choke! Sir!"
It's the best meal ghost has had...ever. something he doesn't say but you know is true when he licks the box clean. It seems you can't feed him table etiquette. Oh well.
From then on ghost can be seen carrying a little lunch box around base, and sipping from a matching thermos. Absolutely adorable and in complete contrast with his...everything.
your dad's best friend! nanami was looking far too fucking attractive to you while you're staying with him in his penthouse.
He was the perfect host, truly - you had an opportunity for your masters program and it just so happened to be in the same city Nanami lived in. He graciously offered to let you stay with him for the entire semester, and you really should just act right.
How do you act right when Nanami is yawning after work and taking off his tie? When he grabs the bottle of whiskey and pours it, sinking down into the bar stool in front of his immaculate counters, eyeing you carefully. You're ovulating and it's not even time for it, like he's thrown your whole cycle off existing.
"What do you want for dinner tonight, darling?" He asks softly, he's always sweet when it comes to you, even if he keeps that respectable distance. "I know it's late."
You don't want the distance, you want him to order you to get right on your knees.
"Ahem," you smile nervously, tugging at the hem of your dress now. "I can cook for you tonight if you want, Ken."
"Ken?" You blush all pretty, he hates how pretty you are - Nanami is a respectable gentleman who likes women his own age, if not a little older. But regardless of the differences in age, he just can't think this way about his best friend's daughter.
You wrap your lips around a straw as if to fuck him up, walking over and handing him the glass with a little smile - standing too close to him. "Can't I give you a nickname?"
"Ahem," he clears his throat, hand clenching the crystal glass when all he wants to do is wrap it around your throat, choke that pretty neck as you take him.
He bets he'd see himself move inside you.
"Can I have a drink?"
"Sure," his word is short and curt, grabbing the bottle of wine from his fridge, pouring the liquid into it, fingers brushing against yours as you take it. Fuck do you have to smell that good? He could just eat you up.
He bets you've never really been pleasured, since you pump your fingers into your cunt every night, muffled cries coming from your room that he jerks his thick cock to. He feels guilty for that, it's just not what he should do, but you walk around in goddamn next to nothing, bending over in front of him every chance you get.
It takes a lot not to fuck you on every surface of his penthouse.
"You look tense, Ken," you murmur, brushing a hand on his shoulder, heart hammering in your chest. "You should let me rub it out."
"Rub what out!?" He almost spits out his whiskey - you bat your lashes innocently.
"The tension in your shoulders, what did you think?"
"Ha - well," he looks at your little hands, those pretty manicured nails - imagining them dragging down his back, pressing against his scalp as he buried his face between the plush of your thighs. "No need."
"Oh... all right, wanna watch something and just order sushi?" That sounds innocent enough, right?
Except when you're yawning later on after you eat, snuggling up to him, he gently tries to pry you off. "You're so comfy though, mmm can I rest my eyes? Class was so hard today, and then I had my work study."
"Ah, that does sound like a lot," you hum, arm wrapping his waist, leaving him throbbing, slacks stretching over his leaky cock, your thigh slips over his lap, brushing against it. "Fuck."
"Fuck what?" You murmur, yawning and nuzzing against his neck, Nanami's so damn big you can just wrap your body around not even half of him, giggling as the wine hits you.
"Nothing, I should take you to bed," his hand goes on your thigh, by all means to put you to bed, but his traitorous big hand instead slides up it, earning your little whine. "Fuck."
"You said 'fuck' again," you arch for more of his touch, you're so horny you can almost cum rubbing against his thigh. "Ken, remember you said you'd take good care of me?"
"Yes," you peer up at him - hearts in your damn pupils - lips all darkened red from the crimson wine, he hardly can think when you straddle one of those thick, muscled thighs, barely biting back a groan. "How do you need me to take care of you, hmm?"
Fuck - how he looks at you has you drooling down his khaki slacks, you're whining out when his hands grip you hard, pressing you down. "Mnh!"
"Acting so slutty around me," he laughs without humor - sweet Nanami is gone, replaced by mean, dominant Nanami who has had enough of your teasing. "Always playing with your messy cunt, and you know I can hear, hmm?"
"Y-yes, ah!" Nanami slips up your dress, over the curve of your ass, smacking it hard, the sting burning so good, he drags you down more, urging you to roll your hips, your hands crumpling up his dress shirt. "Ken..."
"So pathetic and needy, gonna cum fucking my thigh?" He smirks down at you, brushing your hair back all gently, smacking your other ass cheek so hard you cry out, shaking when you're shoved further down, no longer on the couch, rocking your hips up and down, making a mess. "Has no one made you cum, darling?"
"No one," you murmur, already close when your clit gets that friction she's craving, he tugs you forward by your hair, smacking your ass hard, leaving handprints that sting as that only heightens the need, the pressure. "Please, please..."
"Such a desperate little girl," Nanami's voice is low and filthy as he brushes his lips against your ear, breath tickling your skin. "Was it me you pictured when you played with that needy cunt, darling? Driving me insane, on purpose?"
You can only whimper in response, hips rocking faster against his thigh. The fabric of his slacks is soaked with your juices, creating a slick, damp material, the friction bringing you close. One hand grips your waist brutally, the other slides down, rubbing your clit over the soaked cotton barrier
"k-ken!"
"Answer me," he murmurs, eyes so dark that you can't see but a glimmer of that hazel, tilting his head and smiling mean while his thumb brushes pretty patterns on your twitchy lil clit. "Be a good girl for once, would you?"
"Y-yes, thought of you, mnh I always do, ah!" Nanami's pressing harder, watching you with a lidded gaze, his lips set together. "Please!"
"Beggin' so pathetic, huh?" He's pressing harder, his other hand splaying the small of your back, as you babble. "Are you already fucked dumb and drooling off my thigh? How could you ever handle my cock?"
"I can, I can," he smacks your ass again, dragging you down one more time until you shatter. You cum so hard you're dizzy, almost passing out at how good it feels, cunt just fluttering around nothing. "Ngh! K-Ken!"
"Cum so easy," he murmurs, lifting you up and laughing softly, eyes glinting from behind those green rimmed frames he always wears. "Look at this mess you left on me, tsk..."
He takes those juices with his fingers, lifting them and slipping them between your lips.
"Suck."
You obediently listen, mouth moving up and down his thick digits, thighs shaking, even more arousal slipping out from your panties. He takes those spit soaked fingers and tugs your panties to the side, shoving them right in your quivering walls, eliciting filthy little whines.
"How can I make you feel good, give you what you need?" He asks now, lips curving up as his fingers press on that soft spot on your front wall, over and over. "You're drooling, not answering - isn't this what you wanted, acting like a little whore around me?"
"Ngh, I j-just... fuck..." He's got you cumming even harder, squirting till you're dehydrated, overstimulated, until you're a babbling mess, only for him to mock you.
"Aww you're too fucked out to speak, did my fingers make you dumb? Think you could even take my cock tonight? No. You're just not ready for me."
When he lays you down later so carefully, he makes sure to take those soaked panties for himself - he feels just so terrible jerking off with them in his face, what sort of friend was he?
â˝âââââââ choso who needs sex 101 ââââââââĽ
access the verse here!
this is very silly lol. hope u like it<3
choso stands there.
hand still half-raised from where heâd waved goodbye, lips faintly tingling from your kiss, brain completely unplugged. his ears are red. his neck is red.
ââŚshe kissed you,â gojo says from the couch.
choso doesnât move. âyes.â
âon purpose,â geto adds.
ââŚyes.â
toji leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes narrowed. âand youâre just gonna let her leave like that?â
choso blinks, slow. ââŚwhat does that mean.â
âit means,â gojo says, sitting up, âwhat the hell are you doing.â
âi walked her to the door,â choso says, defensive now. âwe watched anime. weââ he hesitates, quieter, âwe had a good time.â
the three of them stare at him.
ââŚand?â geto prompts.
ââŚand she went home.â
toji exhales through his nose. gojo drags a hand down his face and geto just looks tired.
âyou didnât fuck?â gojo asks, flat.
choso chokes. âwhatâno!â
âyou didnât even try?â toji presses.
âno!â choso repeats, scandalized. âwhy would i justâsheâsâsheâs notââ he gestures vaguely toward the door, like youâre still there, hovering. âsheâs not justâŚthat. and i donât know if she even wants sex, i meanâweâweâve only kissed a little,â he mumbles out, face burning hotter.
the room goes quiet.
âand,â choso adds, voice smaller now, âsheâs soâŚsheâsââ he exhales, frustrated. âshe could have anyone. i donât know why she picked me. i donât want to mess it up.â
âso youâve never fucked,â gojo clarifies. âand your plan is toâŚdo nothing forever?â
âthatâs notâi just want her to be comfortable.â
choso rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. ânotâŚnot really.â
âso youâve done nothing except for a couple pecks?â geto runs an exasperated hand down his face. âdude. what are you doing.â
âi feel like ive failed him,â toji says, leaning back and cracking his neck. âhave you ever doneâŚanything? with anyone?â
choso looks down, embarrassed. ââŚno.â
âokay, thatâs okay, thatâs okay,â gojo says, clapping his hands once. âthis is salvageable. we wonât let you fumble her, okay?â
âhow do you meanâŚ.â
âsex 101,â gojo exclaims grandly, dashing out of the room and stifling through the storage closet and pulling out a giant rolling whiteboard.
âwhere the fuckâs that from?â toji asks, laughing.
âkeep scores for drinking games. anyways,â gojo continues, writing SEX 101 in bold letters at the top. gojo slaps the marker against the board aggressively.
âlesson one,â he declares, writing KISSING in aggressive block letters. âbecause clearly, weâre operating atâŚbeginner level.â
âi can kiss,â choso says, a little stiff.
gojo spins. âdefine kiss.â
ââŚiââ choso hesitates. âi press my lips to hers.â
toji snorts and geto pinches the bridge of his nose.
âno,â gojo says, horrified. âno, no, no. thatâs a stamp. youâre not mailing a letter, youâre kissing your girlfriend.â
chosoâs ears go even redder. âshe hasnât complained.â
âbecause she likes you,â geto says gently. âwhich is the only thing saving you right now.â
gojo draws a very questionable diagram of two circles labeled you and her.
âkissing is not just lip contact,â he continues. âitâsâtempo. pressure. reading her reactions. if she leans in? good. if she pulls back? you stop. you donât justâŚhover there like a confused statue.â
ââŚi donât hover,â choso mutters.
âyou absolutely hover,â toji says.
âiâve seen you hover,â gojo adds.
âyou have notââ
âyou radiate hover energy,â geto cuts in.
choso looks like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him.
gojo taps the board again. âalso, hands. what are your hands doing?â
ââŚat my sides.â
toji actually laughs this time, low and disbelieving. âyouâre telling me youâre standing there like youâre waiting for a school photo?â
âhands are important,â geto says, more composed. âstart simple. her waist, her arms, her face if youâre gentle. it shows youâre present. that you want to be close.â
choso nods slowly, absorbing it like itâs sacred info.
âokay,â he says. âhands. notâŚat my sides.â
âprogress,â gojo beams.
he underlines KISSING three times before moving on, far too excited.
âlesson two,â he announces, writing READING HER.
âthis is where you stop being dense,â toji says helpfully.
âignore him,â geto sighs.
gojo points the marker at choso. âyou said you want her to be comfortable, right?â
ââŚyes.â
âgood. thatâs actually the one correct thought youâve had,â gojo says. âso build on that. you donât rush. you donât assume. you pay attention.â
he starts listing things down the board:
⢠does she lean closer
⢠does she linger when you touch her
⢠does she look at your lips
âthese are green lights,â he says. âsignals.â
chosoâs brows knit. âand if iâm not sure?â
âit doesnât have to be weird,â geto adds. âit can be quiet. âis this okay?â âdo you want me toâŚâ that kind of thing.â
choso nods again, and gojo grins.
âlesson three,â he says, turning dramatically and writing ANATOMY.
âoh boy,â toji murmurs.
âdo not âoh boyâ me, this is educational,â gojo shoots back, already sketching a lopsided pair of tits.
geto immediately stands up. âgive me that.â he takes the marker. âyouâre going to traumatize him.â
âi was doing great.â
âyouâre drawing boobs,â geto says, face bland. âand theyâre crooked. at least try.â he sketches something he labels âpussyâ (which makes choso wince). âalright, basic overview. you donât need to memorize a textbook, but you do need to know where things are and what they do.â
gojo crosses his arms. âi still think my version had personality.â
âyour version had googly eyes for nipples,â toji mutters.
choso is staring at the board with wide eyes.
âso,â geto continues, pointing. âthis is the vulva. external. thisââ he taps a smaller point, ââis the clit. extremely sensitive. important. do not ignore it.â
choso nods immediately. âimportant.â
âvery,â toji says. âlike, top priority.â
geto sighs but continues, tapping the board again. âthe main thing is this donât rush and donât treat it like a checklist. every girl is different. what she likes, how fast she wants to go, what feels goodâŚyou learn her, not justâŚthis.â he gestures vaguely at the drawing.
chosoâs gaze softens a little at that. âlearn her.â
âexactly,â geto says, satisfied.
toji stretches. âand for the love of god, donât go in there acting like you know everything.â
âyou speaking from experience?â gojo snickers, which promptly earns him a glare from toji.
they bicker, and choso sits there, staring at the board like itâs a revelation, his friends words looping through his mind.
touch her waist, and lean close. if she leans in too, ask if this is okay, andâŚand then kiss her. and if she wants to keep going ask her if sheâs okay with that andâŚ
choso stiffens slightly. heâs still not quite sure what to do next.
âŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮŮ٨Ů
choso stares at his phone later that night, thumb hovering over your contact.
choso: did you get home safe?
you: yeah đĽ°đĽ° what u miss me already
choso: yes
his ears go red again. itâs a reflex at this point.
choso: i liked today
you: me too!!! ur so cute
his brain short-circuits, dazed smile drawn on his face.
choso: youâre cute too
you: next time iâm stealing more than one kiss btw
his heart does something violent, his flush deepening. he thinks about the whiteboard and gojoâs primitive sketches, tojiâs bluntness, how geto explained everything to him calmly.
he thinks about you. how soft your lips felt when you kissed him goodbye earlier, how you smiled at him.
No thoughts just frog hybrid!reader meeting tarantula!ghost for the first time...
Being a frog hybrid the size you are...you get picked on a lot. It's easy for coworkers or soldiers to point out how short and meek you are, it's a comment you've grown used to.
Usually, it's not an issue...until someone takes it too far.
Two soldiers, both of them much taller than you, keep you cornered in the hallway. They joke to eachother, pointing out how you cower like it's the cutest thing ever. As if your instincts aren't screaming at you about how dangerous being trapped is. It's not...you don't usually get like this butâ it doesn't feel safe and one of them reaches for youâ
The soldier is suddenly, forcefully ripped back, giving you enough space to slip away from the other one.
You watch wide-eyed as a tarantula hybrid slams the soldier into the wall. He looks...vaguely familiar, with a silly skull mask and skeleton gloves. "Eight hours." He growls at the soldier, claws peeking out from his gloves in a way that...doesn't startle your instincts. Weird.
The soldier nods frantically, obviously understanding whatever the hell 'Eight hours' meant, and scampers off with his buddy the second he drops.
The masked man scoffs at the pair before he turns to you, dark eyes scanning you over. Christ he's taller than the others. You swear you hear him sniff at you before grunting "with me."
You...don't want to upset the guy, so you follow him....and keep following him all day. He kind of makes you feel safe in a way you can't explain. When he sits you down to eat, no one dares to steal food off your plate or take the opportunity to tease you. No one 'accidentally' bumps into you in the halls to watch you scramble to pick up papers. Hell, his office even makes you feel calm and safe.
So you stick around.
Eventually you learn the guys name is ghost, that he works with the 141. No ok bothers you when he's around.
As a thanks, you like to help him with his paperwork, or clean his office, or bring him snacks. Small things that you notice he struggles with sometimes, quality of life, really.
Now there's a new nickname for you running around base, ghost's pet. Of course, you wouldn't know, no one dares to say it when the threat of ghost looms around you now.
Ghost may not know much about relationships, but he's pretty sure you're not supposed to touch his hands this much.
At first the thought you just really liked hand-holding. Always looping your fingers around his in the hallway, a conscious effort to stay connected to him. Ghost likes it when you do, blushing under his mask like a schoolboy.
But that wasn't all of it, just the beginning really.
"Gimme your hand, si." You tell him almost every day during meals. Reaching across the table to rub your thumbs into his palm, watching with fascination at the way skin moves over bone. Ghost has to remind himself to eat instead of watch you play with his hand.
Whenever ghost does anything, it seems your eyes are ways glued to his hands. He could have an entire conversation without ever seeing your eyes just because he's also cleaning his rifle.
Still, he's not sure he gets it until you're both in bed one night, body's warm with food and easy slow enjoyment. Ghost has your back pressed to his chest, trying to sleep but you keep moving.
"Okay, lovie? Yer uncomfortable?" He prompts quietly, voice low and rough on the edge of sleep.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you grunt, still shifting in place. You toss and turn, obviously uncomfortable like ghost sometimes gets with his clothes. Like somethings completely off, "I justâ I needâ here, give me thisâ"
You grab ghosts handâand for a second he thinks you'll just hold it like you always doâand place it around your neck.
Ghost stares, stunned.
You absolutely melt, a delighted little smile on your face as you cozy up into his chest. Apparently, you've never felt better than you do with a trained killers hand around your throat. As if he wouldn't kill you, as if it's not even a possibility when he has so many nightmares. You curl up in the center of a bear trap with him.
This is for my luv @yenayaps, here is sukuna doing coke off us and fucking our ass <3 happy birthdayyy hehe (MDNI)
You lost a bet to your boyfriend Sukuna - you thought you could outdrink your six foot five boyfriend like a fucking idiot, but now your ass is arched in a pretty heart for his dilated eyes. Your head resting on one of his pillows as he moans at the sight, slipping rough fingers up your spine, laughing when you whine out.
"Ah-ah, stay still," he murmurs, taking the little baggie of powder that's been on his nightstand for this very occasion, running his hand over his cock, feeling it leaking pre. "My pretty lil coke tray."
"You fucking freak," you mumble, whining out when his huge hand lands a firm smack on your ass, leaving the outline of his hand print raising on it. "Mnh!"
"You lost that bet, brat," you sigh, conceding and feeling powder sprinkling along your skin, you bite down on your lip, feeling far too fucking needy, he's not even touched you yet, just gliding a card against the curve of your ass, where the little dimples sit on your lower back.
"Well snort your line then, Kuna," he glares at the nickname, you're practically giggling, he'd smack your ass again but this is primo cocaine, so he settles for nipping your ass cheek with his teeth.
"So eager for me to fuck your ass tonight, huh?" You blush and don't let him see - for all Sukuna's talk of fucking your ass he hasn't just yet.
"Just snort your line weirdo," he chuckles, the sound vibrating as he leans down, rolling that hundred dollar bill tightly. The powder looks so fucking pretty on your skin, he snorts half of it right up one nostril, switching to the other, hearing your little whine.
"Fuck," he runs his tongue across where the faint white residue is sticking, huge hands gripping at your hips, lips pressing a filthy kiss. "Arch more, you can, right?"
"Mhm," you do just that - usually you're a fucking brat, but you're so clearly horny and ready for him tonight. He spits a line of saliva right down to your hole, spreading your cheeks and watching you arch even more, hands crumpling the sheets beneath you.
"Haven't' even touched you yet, so needy, huh?" You turn to glare and he's smirking.
"Fine, no ass play."
"What!?"
"No fuck you," you gasp out when he spits on your hole again, swirling two fingers and pressing inside, making you moan, lashes fluttering shut. "Mngh..."
"What was that, brat?" He leans over, pressing them into the knuckle and curling them, the burn so fucking good you can hardly take it, eyes rolling back in your skull, your arousal dripping down between your puffy lips. "Couldn't hear ya."
"F-fuck... fuck... ah," he's grinning as you clamp down on him, his free hand tugging you up by your hair until you're up on your hands and knees for him, gasping out.
"Loosen up f'me," he murmurs in your ear, sharp teeth nipping at your ear lobe, a little bit of that pink hair falling over his brow. "Stop that, don't tighten up. Be a good girl."
"Hmph," he smiles at your attempt to act mad, easing his fingers in and out of your unused hole, his breath warm against your ear. "Kuna..."
"Mmm, listenin' for once," he eases his fingers out, leaning over and grabbing a bottle of lube out of his drawer - his slutty ass always has several bottles. He squeezes a generous amount, easing his fingers right back in, his other hand cupping your face, kissing your lips and moaning into your mouth. "Feel good, brat?"
"Mhm," you don't bother to play around, his fingers do feel good, the way he's leaned over you with his heavy weight against you, the pressure as he starts stretching them inside your tight hole.
"Can you take my cock in this tiny hole?" He's taunting you now, his cock leaking pre down on his blankets, hand slipping down to wrap your throat.
"I can." he smirks against your skin.
"I don't know, she's just so tiny and pathetic, can she stretch that much? Take this fat cock inside?"
"Yes, yes," he's pumping faster, the lube slipping and mixing with your juices as the drip down your thighs. "I can t-take it, fuck me, fuck me..."
"Beggin' all desperate, such a needy brat," he pulls them out with a filthy squelch, squirting even more lube down onto your hole, spitting in it as he spreads your hole wide, lining the tip of his pierced cock against it. You jerk just a bit when his piercing presses inside your hole. "Don't tense up, or I won't give you it."
"Dick," you mumble, looking over your shoulder, your hair falling. "Kuna, fuck me, please."
He spits again, swirling it over his swollen cock head, easing it inside, he's gentle with it at first, letting you adjust. Sukuna could be sweet, especially when he's fucking your hole for the first time, but once he's half way in, and you start to take it? It feels too good.
"Ah! S-so deep," he's pushing more in, pinning your hips and jerking his own, heavy balls thwacking your messy, needy cunt as she quivers around nothing, making you gasp out.
"That's it, takin' my cock like you're made for it," he moans, starting to really fuck you now, cock stretching you out as all that pressure hits, the pleasure fucking ruining you. "Doin' such a good job, lemme make you feel even better."
"Hmm? ah!" Sukuna's tugging you up, easing you right down on his cock and bottoming out impossibly, you're on your knees, his tattooed fingers running circles on your neglected clit, pretty patterns as he wraps his other arm around your waist, bicep taking you over. You're trembling, tears pricking your eyes as you start to feel that pleasure fucking you up.
"All your holes are made just f'me," he says, losing his mind at how tight you are, how your ass is just gripping his veiny length so good like she's milking him. "Cunt, mouth, ass, mine - say it?"
"Psycho - ngh!" He's slammed you down fully, pinching your clit between two fingers, overstimulating you until you shatter, seeing white as he sucks your damn breath away. "Kuna, ngh!"
"Mhm," he's easing up just a bit as you squirt down between your thighs. "Fuck, you're squirting from anal? Slutty lil' brat."
You're broken off with a moan between your lips as he fucks up into your ass again, about to bust inside, just pulsing. He's mumbling your name as he slides two fingers in your empty cunt, curving them up as his piercing drags along this spot inside that has you cumming again, squirting down his hand.
"Fuck, that's it - hah, gonna take all my cum. Mmm stay right here, don't run from it," he murmurs, busting hot white inside, feeling cum in there is utterly filthy, his fingers rocking and getting every damn drop he can from you, until you're dizzy.
"Kuna..." You're a mess, Sukuna eases out and moans at the sight of the creamy white spilling down from your ass.
"Took it like such a good lil brat," he's fingering the mess, chuckling as you're jerking, dripping all down and making a mess. "Are you gonna say you can out drink me again?"
Convincing Pervy roommate!Choso itâs not cheating if itâs over the clothes
âAre you sure?â he asks, whispering. Of course heâs whispering; his âgirlfriendâ is sleeping right beside you two â a twisted sleepover nightmare.Â
Tucked under the covers, you two shuffle together tight. Heâs got something fat, heavy, and burning between your thighs. Itâs slowly but surely rubbing right up against your clothed cunt, dragging out quiet squelchessss. âYeah, Cho. Itâs a rule; itâs only -mm- cheating if itâs s-skin to skin.â
âOkay. Thatâs -ngh oh fuck- good.â Chosoâs hips are furiously rutting against you, nudging your throbbing clit through your panties. Youâre driving him absolutely crazy. He can feel the wet mark at your gusset on his skin, just as you can feel the wet streak his leaking pre is leaving on your inner thighs. He sucks in a loud breath behind you.Â
âShush,â you scold, âyou donât want to wake your girlfriend.â
âWho?â he asks, absentmindedly.Â
âYour girlfriend,â you remind him. Rolling your eyes, you twist under your blanket and come face to face with him before you shove him onto his back. You straddle his hips, grinding your cunt onto the length of his bare cock. And as he groans, a finger tilts his head to the side.Â
His new girlfriendâs fast asleep, drooling on the pillows. Sheâd invited herself over for your weekly tradition of having a sleepover in the living room, partly due to her desire to hang out with him, and partly because she didnât feel comfortable with you two sleeping beside each other. Which is good intuition â these sleepovers usually start, consist of, and end with him licking your cunt to back-to-back orgasms as a movie plays in the background.Â
âOh, Choso. Weâre not cheaters, are we?â you murmur. He shakes his head whilst moving your hips over his cock, particularly over his pretty, pink cockhead. âNo, of course not. Weâre not cheating now. And we wonât cheat ever. So, letâs make this easier for ourselves. You go and break up with her tomorrow morning and we can keep doing this without hiding, âkay?â
Choso furrows his brows. âBreak up with who?â
You groan. âYour girlfriend!â
âOh.â Thereâs nothing better than holding you. Nothing better than feeling your puffy pussy lips part for him, your heartbeat thrumming through your clit, and the softness of your thighs squeezing his cum out in steady drops. So if having no girlfriend means more of this, then thatâs perfect.Â
Still moving you back and forth on his cock, he leans over to the side and shakes the woman. She wakes with a jolt. âOh, my god. W-whatâs happening?â she asks, tearing up.Â
Choso palms your tits through your thin tank top, tweaking your nipples as he licks his lips. Heâs not even looking at her. No, heâs far too fixated on the growing see-through spot of your panties, which the dull light from the TV is making clear to his beady eyes.
âWeâre over. Night.â
She scrambles up from the floor, disbelieving. In a hurry, she gets to the door and opens the thing, letting in light. When she looks back, youâre both illuminated and still unashamedly, relentlessly, grinding against each other. The last things she sees are the spurts of his orgasm painting his chest white and your victorious smile.
having not experienced teenage love, you conclude youâre just unlovable⌠but your "bestfriend" SUKUNA proves you veryy very wrong!!
"maybe i'm the problem?"
"huh?" sukuna unsticks his nose from his notes as he glances at you from across the table with a faint scowl.
the cafĂŠ around you is warm and alive with quiet afternoon noise. espresso machines hissing, cups clinking softly against saucers, low conversations blending into a gentle hum. the smell of roasted coffee and caramel syrup hangs in the air, sweet and comforting, wrapping around the little corner table you and sukuna claimed hours ago. sunlight filters through the tall windows beside you, spilling across the wooden tabletop where your notebooks, pens, and half-highlighted lecture slides are spread out in a messy fan.
you take a slow sip of your coffee while he waits for you to continue your ramble.
"i'm like, in college and i'm yet to experience some sort of⌠actually any type of romance." you swirl your straw absentmindedly in the iced drink. "like everybody in my teenage years, heck, even younger, either received a shy letter on valentines day or somebody proclaimed their love in a romantic way on a date."
sukunaâs scowl deepens slightly, though whether it's from concentration or your topic is hard to tell. he leans back in his chair, stretching one arm over the backrest while his other hand reaches for his drink.
"there's the funny rumors of people having crushes on a person and it turns into something sweet. for me? it was always in a way people would, like⌠fuck with me."
for a moment the only sound between you two is the quiet slurp of sukuna pulling from the straw of his strawberry milkshake, the bright pink drink ridiculously cheerful compared to the permanent unimpressed look on his face.
"am i the problem?" you finally ask, voice quieter now as you reach for your pen, "am i genuinely just not likable looks or personality wise? or both?!"
sukuna exhales slowly through his nose.
for a split second he almost looks relieved, like heâd been bracing himself for a completely different kind of conversation. he shrugs, taking another long sip of his milkshake "maybe.â
your fists slowly tighten around your pen like you're contemplating whether stabbing him with it would be socially acceptable in a public cafĂŠ. "you. are. such. a. dick."
sukuna snorts under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward just slightly as he sets the milkshake back down. "i'm jokingâŚ"
he turns back to his notes flipping his pen between his fingers. "i don't think you are the problemâŚ" he pauses, pen hovering for a moment before he scribbles something down in the margins. "maybeee somebody has been flirting with you for a while and you just haven't realized it."
"as if." you cross your arms over your chest immediately, scoffing. âi would have noticed."
sukuna stills.
his pen stops moving entirely. slowly, he lifts his head. his nose scrunches in that irritated yet annoyingly adorable way he does whenever you say something so unbelievably stupid it physically pains him. He arches one brow.
you stare at him, "what?"
he looks at you for another long second, expression flat. then he turns back to his notes again with a quiet sigh. "nothing."
you, however, are nowhere near done. leaning forward again as your pen starts tapping the edge of his notebook.
and the more you talk, the more sukuna feels his braincells quietly evaporating.
"it's justâ" you begin again, waving one hand vaguely in the air. "i would like it if somebody was straightforward with me, you know?" sukuna's pen scratches across the paper a little harder. "like if he came up to me and just bluntly told me: i like you! and i want to take you on a date!â
there's a sharp clack. sukuna drops his pen harshly against the table as he looks up at you with the most deadpan expression you've ever seen.
"i like you and want to take you on a date," he says flatly. "even though we have went on multiple dates you just haven't realized it."
you beam instantly, like a light switched on inside your face. "yeah!" you nod enthusiastically. "something like that!"
sukunaâs eye twitches. "are you fucking stupid?"
"huh?" you blink.
for a moment sukuna just stares at you across the table, like heâs genuinely trying to figure out whether youâre messing with him or if this level of obliviousness is real. then, with a long exhale through his nose, he gestures broadly around the table as if presenting a collection of very obvious evidence.
his notebooks and textbooks are scattered everywhere, pages filled with his sharp, aggressive handwriting, but between the notes are your doodles. little hearts drawn lazily in the margins, tiny stars, a stupid cartoon of him with horns and the word menace written beside it. he always grumbles when you draw in his things, always mutters something about how annoying it is. and yet heâs never erased a single one.
then thereâs the milkshake sitting between you both, the obnoxiously pink strawberry drink slowly melting while water droplets slides down the glass. two straws stick out of it.
as if that wasnât already enough, underneath the table your legs are comfortably tangled together, your knee pressed against his like it has been for the last hour without either of you acknowledging it.
sukuna points at everything in one sweeping motion before his patience finally snaps. "I LIKE YOU, YOU IDIOT!"
his voice comes out louder than he meant it to, echoing slightly in the cozy cafĂŠ space. A couple of nearby students glance over briefly before returning to their laptops, pretending they didnât hear anything.
you just blink again. your brain feels like itâs slowly short-circuiting as you try to process the words. "whaâ?"
"I HAVE BEEN FLIRTING FOR MONTHS DUMBASS. I THOUGHTâ"
you scrunch your face up immediately at the sudden volume of his voice.
"THATâ" the realization hits him and he abruptly stops, dragging a hand down his face before taking a steadying breath. he clears his throat. "ahem. sorry." the scowl on his face doesnât soften, but when he speaks again his tone drops several levels, far more controlled even if the irritation is still very much present. "I just thought you wanted to take it super duper slow, so i waited and gave signals."
you stare at him, still trying to piece together everything he just said. "really?"
sukuna closes his eyes for a second and pinches the bridge of his nose, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of his nose bridge piercing as he rubs it slowly like heâs fighting off a headache. his shoulders sag just a little. "lord, give me strength."
you lean over the table, cheeks slowly turning pink. "when did you give me signals?!"
"uH, WeLL, I donât KNOW!⌠maybe when you had those awful cramps and i told you to stay over at my place? you were curled up on my bed, whining like a tiny, pathetic kitten, and i held you all night, kissing the top of your head while rubbing your back until you fell asleep?!â
"uhâ wha? i just thoughtâŚ" you shrug, cheeks still warm. "i mean⌠you were just⌠trying to help me feel better, right?"
sukuna blinks at you like heâs about to explode. "what? no! then what the hell did you think that time you suddenly decided you had to have a pomegranate at midnight? i went out to the market just to get it, came back, and ended up cleaning the entire damn thing. I still have the stains on my table!â
you bury your face in your hands, groaning. "i⌠i felt so bad afterward! you kept grumbling the entire time about how annoying i was⌠i didnât think youâd actually go and get it!â
sukuna runs a hand through his hair, his crimson strands falling into his eyes before he yanks them back in exasperation. âhow do you even manage to think of it like that?!â
your cheeks flare red, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. "i⌠i guess iâve felt so unloved that i shut down the possibility of anyone⌠liking me⌠for the rest of my life."
sukunaâs scowl deepens, "youâre telling me iâve been acting like some damn wife to you and you didnât realize shit?"
you shake your head, barely able to meet his gaze.
he throws his head back and laughs, a low, throaty sound thatâs equal parts exasperation and amusement, "for fuckâs sake, womanâŚ" he mutters, and then softer, more fondly, "you will be the death of me."
your voice comes out barely audible, trembling just slightly, but itâs enough to pull every ounce of his attention toward you. (as if it was ever directed somewhere else but you) "are you⌠still⌠up for that date?"
he leans closer, grin spreading across his face like heâs been waiting for this moment. "millions of them," his tattooed arm snakes across the table, and he pinches your reddened cheeks, smirking like a predator who finally caught its prey. "but ones that you actually notice the intentions of, dumbass."
â rin telling me to post this so i did rahhh, i'mclearing out my drafts cause i'll be busy the next few weeks.. also self-indulgent because i have never experienced any sort of crush lol
Soulhaven @secretriddlehaven - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
