Touching Each Other While Our Friends Sleep Next to Us
JJK men x reader
modern college AU
MDNI (18+)
Context: Post-frat party chaos. Your friends were passed out in every corner of the frat house. Some in different bedrooms, some on couches, bodies tangled. Because your boyfriend had a couple of drinks, his car is off the table, you two have to share the same makeshift bed with your friends until dawn.
INCLUDES:
Satoru Gojo
Suguru Geto
Choso Kamo
Ryomen Sukuna
Toji Fushiguro
a/n: This is my personal take on the characters. If it's not your vibe, that's cool, no need to hate. XOXO
Satoru Gojo:
His big, muscular body pressed into your back, his breath fanning against your hair. It seemed like he had already fallen asleep. You couldn’t. The feeling was so unbearable, almost suffocating, as you stared at the blank white wall in front of you.
You sighed and tried to shift, searching for a little more space. If the warmth of Gojo’s chest kept radiating against you like this, you were sure you’d lose it.
Then his long fingers found your hip, followed by his mouth on the shell of your ear.
“Stop squirming,” he murmured. “You’re already making this hard enough for me.”
Right on cue, the front of his jeans brushed against your back. Yeah… you definitely weren’t the only one feeling this way.
“Satoru,” you whispered, slowly grinding your hips back against him. “Please.”
“You want that cock, baby?”
You pressed yourself more firmly against him in a response.
“Unfortunately, that would be too risky,” he whispered with a quiet chuckle. “But what about these fingers, hm?”
His palm was already cupping you from behind, your little dress riding up around your thighs. Your panties were pushed aside.
“Always so wet for me.”
His knuckles spread the slickness between your folds while his other hand slid beneath you, covering your mouth to muffle the sounds threatening to escape. The movement of his hand quickened, and the quiet, wet sounds between your legs grew louder.
Yeah… the fact that Geto and Shoko were sleeping just a few feet away definitely made it worse.
“Come on, baby,” he breathed against your ear. “Ride my hand.”
Suguru Geto:
The scent of his perfume was intoxicating, and the way your head was nuzzled into his collarbone wasn’t helping. You wanted his hands all over you right now, just the two of you in his bed, not on this sofa with Gojo lying a few feet away.
“Sugu,” you whispered softly, peppering small kisses on his neck. “Are you awake?”
You pulled back slightly, and his intense gaze met yours in the dark of the night.
“What’s the matter here, sweetheart?” he murmured.
His fingers combed through your hair while the other hand rested on your waist. You took that hand and guided it between your bare, plush thighs, your dress no longer sitting where it should.
“Please… just touch me,” you whimpered, growing more impatient by the second.
A quiet chuckle vibrated in his chest.
“So needy tonight,” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear.
You captured his lips with yours, moaning softly as one of your hands slid down to stroke the outline of length through his pants. At the same time, his cool fingers met the heat between your thighs.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathed against your lips. “I wish we were home right now. I want to feel that pussy so bad.”
Then you heard a noise behind him.
A small movement.
You lift your head just enough to glance past Geto’s shoulder. Gojo facing the two of you but he was still asleep.
Your heart nearly stopped.
For a moment you thought those blue eyes would open.
“Eyes on me,” Geto murmured, pulling your attention back to him.
One of his hands inside of you while the other guided your over him.
“You don’t want to wake him up, do you?” he whispered. “Then we should hurry… and get the hell out of here.”
Ryomen Sukuna:
After the challenge you faced, both Sukuna and Toji were bulky as hell and there was barely any space for you on the sofa, you eventually managed to find a position, almost drifting off to sleep.
Then you felt movement behind you.
Sukuna’s hand settled on your stomach.
“Y/n,” he whispered, his lips brushing the bare skin of your back above your dress. “Have you fallen asleep already?”
“What’s up, Ryo?” you whispered, knowing damn well what he wanted. In answer, he rolled his hips just once—slow, deliberate—letting you feel the thick line of his cock pressing against your ass through his pants.
“Let’s take this off, shall we?” he murmured, sliding your panties down and lifting the dress. “I couldn’t help myself. I behaved all night, but this dress was a treasure and a curse.”
His voice dropped lower near your ear as he unbuttoned his pant.
You stomach curled, warmth pooling low in your body.
“Can I?” he asked, the tip of his cock spread the slickness from your entrance to your now sensitive clit.
“Please,” you whispered, lifting one of your legs slightly.
In the next second, he pushed inside you, every thick inch stretching you deliciously, and making you gasp softly.
“This pussy was made for me, princess,” he murmured. “Just like that, spread your thighs for me.”
Even though his movement weren’t fast at first, the quiet sound between you were impossible to ignore. Your stretched cunt that swallowed him whole. And they grew louder as his hips drove harder and faster into you.
“Come on my cock,” he breathed near your ear. “Make a mess.”
Choso Kamo:
Neither of you were asleep yet.
Both of you were painfully aware of the sexual tension between you.
Choso’s hand traced slow circles on your back while you cuddled against his tall frame. One of your legs slid between his calves, pressing your tits more firmly into his chest.
God, it was infuriating.
And it didn’t help that Yuki was asleep right next to you.
“Cho,” you whispered, letting your hand trail down on his lower abdomen.
He looked directly at you, the same raw, hungry look in his eyes. At the same time, there was hesitation too. Your friend was only a few inches away.
“You know we can’t,” he murmured.
He gently moved your hand away, lifting it to his lips and brushing a soft kiss across your palm.
“Please, baby,” you whispered, grinding your pussy slowly against his thigh, your hard nipples pressing closer to his chest.
His breath caught in his throat.
He didn’t stop you, but his hands settled on your ass, gripping slightly.
“What if she wakes up?” he asked quietly, uncertainty mixing with clear temptation.
“She won’t,” you reassured him.
You took his palm with one hand and guided it lower, until he could feel your soaked panties through the thin fabric. With the other, you freed your tits over the dress.
“Fuck. Me,” he breathed.
That was all he managed before he took one of your nipples into his, his restraint starting to slip.
Yuki mumbled something in her sleep and rolled onto her side, facing away from you both. Choso froze, his mouth still on your nipple, his fingers pressed against your thong. Neither of you breathed for three full seconds. Then she settled, her breathing evening out again.
Choso exhaled shakily against your skin. And then his fingers pushed your panties aside and began moving between your thighs, slow and hesitant at first.
“Such a good boy, baby,” you whispered softly in his ear.
At the praise, his movement became erratic, less controlled, his mouth switching your nipples, sucking around them harder.
You were both a mess.
“Please,” he whimpered hoarsely. “I want to taste you. Cum on my fingers baby.”
Toji Fushiguro:
Your body was trapped between the cold wall and Toji’s broad chest, his arms wrapping around you, his face resting against your shoulder.
You both were far from being asleep. You, because the space was so tight you could barely breathe. Him… well, the facts spoke for themselves, as his lips brushed your neck and his tongue grazed your sensitive area from time to time.
“Doll,” he murmured, the vibration sending jolts straight between your thighs.
His fingers slid slowly under the hem of your skirt, tracing deliberate patterns on your heated skin. He pressed harder into your back.
“I know you’re not sleeping,” his voice low, edged with warning, before his teeth gently nipped at your shoulder.
Your whole body tingled, the wetness in your panties growing.
“Toji,” you whispered, letting your legs part instinctively.
“Yeah?” His smirk audible in his voice as his hand moved beneath your skirt, slowly beginning to pull off your panties.
“Sukuna,” you whispered, remembering the friend asleep just inches away. “He’ll wake up.”
“I don’t think so,” Toji chuckled, lowering himself down your body, until his mouth found your pussy from behind. “Keep your mouth shut for me.”
Then his tongue licked from your clit to your entrance, circling, then up to your ass. His quiet groan vibrated into your body.
“Oh my god,” you whimpered, then clapped your hand over your mouth to muffle all the noises and moans that would spill off from your lips.
“Tastes so good, doll,” he muttered. “I’ve thought about this since the moment I picked you up tonight.”
Your back arched at his words. The moment he spat on you, the moan that came out was loud enough that your hand couldn’t stop it. Then he licked faster, harder, lapping at your ass, your entrance, your clit.
Then you both froze at the deep voice: “Mind if I join?”
The big droplets continued to fall from the darkened sky, hammering against the pavement, against your shoulders, against the door you kept pounding. You knocked again, harder this time, your fist aching from the cold. The rain had soaked through everything — your jacket, your shirt, your skin. You were shivering so badly your teeth chattered, but you wouldn't leave. Not until he answered.
You hated this. Hated the way Sasuke's hollow, emotionless face kept flickering behind your eyes. You were doing this for him. It mattered. You couldn't back down now.
When the door finally swung open, your breath caught in your lungs.
Water dripped from your hair, sliding down your neck, pooling at your collarbones. You probably looked pathetic — drenched, trembling, wide-eyed. You didn't care.
Itachi stood in the doorway, shirtless, his dark hair slightly damp, like he'd just stepped out of the shower. His eyes moved over you slowly — taking in the way your wet shirt clung to your skin, the way you hugged yourself against the cold, the way your lips were blue from shivering. You avoided looking anywhere else but his face. Avoided looking at his bare chest, his athletic arms, the way his sweats hung low on his hips. Definitely avoided that.
And now what? Why were the words that had been building on your tongue refusing to spill out? You could only glare at him, jaw tight, fists clenched at your sides. And to that, the corner of his mouth lifted a little — almost imperceptibly. Like he knew exactly what you were feeling.
His eyes dropped, just for a second, to where your wet shirt clung to your skin. Then back to your face. Like he'd seen everything he needed to see.
He remained in the middle of the door.
"My, my. Look who's here."
That voice. That fucking voice that made your knees weak for reasons you refused to understand. You despised the way he made you feel.
"Don't 'my my' me," you said between your teeth. "What did you say to him? What was it this time, Itachi?"
"To who?" The mocking in his voice wasn't hard to miss.
"You know who I'm talking about. Why are you like this, damn it?"
"He's such a crybaby." He sighed, already fed up with the whole conversation. "He ran to his girlfriend's arms to tell her everything, didn't he?"
His body shifted, leaning his arms on the door frame, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing at the movement. You forced your eyes back to his face.
"I came here just to say one thing, Itachi. Leave him alone."
"And why would I do that, sweetheart?" His voice dropped lower. "Give me a reason."
Hearing his tone — the way he wouldn't back down this easily — weakened your resolve. But you couldn't let your boyfriend down, could you? Even if he was how he was. His cold behavior. The way he only sought you out at night, like you were convenient. The days when you didn't hear from him at all.
"How about you come inside." Itachi stepped aside, gesturing with his head. "Your clothes are drenched. You'll catch pneumonia."
He stepped outside — just enough to take your arm and guide you into the warmth of his house. And only then did you realize how badly you were shaking. The warmth hit you like a wave — the heat of the fireplace, the soft glow of lamps, the scent of cedar and rain. You were freezing to the bone.
You were so confused about this guy. Were you missing something?
He led you into what seemed to be the living room. Then he turned to face you.
"Want some tea?"
You shook your head, hugging yourself, trying to regain some composure. Why was he so kind to you but so cruel to his brother? Why did he look at you like you were precious — but talk about Sasuke like he was nothing?
"Please," you started, your voice quieter than you intended. "Maybe I don't understand the situation between you two. But please — could you leave him alone? It consumes him."
"Why do you care so much, Y/n?" His voice was softer now. "Do you think he would do the same, if the roles were changed?"
"He's my boyfriend."
"He's your boyfriend?" He let out a low, humorless laugh. "That's pathetic. He doesn't even care that much about you. When was the last time he took you on a date? When was the last time he said he loved you?"
"That's not your business," you said, too fast. Too fast — he almost saw through your cracks. The sadness in your soul.
"Don't hide it, sweetheart." He stepped closer. "I already know everything. He's so caught up in himself that you don't matter at all. You're here just as a distraction. When was the last time he actually—"
"Don't you dare." Your voice cracked. "You know nothing about us. So don't pretend as if you do. Okay, smartass?"
He was so surprised by your outburst that it was hard for him to contain his smile. That infuriated you even more.
"You know what? Be as cruel as you want to be — but not with Sasuke, okay? Leave him alone."
You moved to leave.
But his arm caught your wrist. His bare chest met your back. You shivered — unconsciously — at the sudden warmth of him against your cold skin. His other hand locked on your waist. Your heart was restless. Something warm and dangerous settled in your belly. This had to be your imagination, right?
"He doesn't deserve you."
His lips brushed softly against your ear. And the way he said it — so close, so intimate — made your knees buckle.
Why did you feel like this? This whole interaction had been confusing since you arrived. But now you couldn't understand anything. You wanted so badly to press your body into his. You wanted him to touch you. These feelings amplified when his nose breathed in your scent — slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing you.
"If you don't want this, you can go now. Forget this ever happened." His voice was low, steady. "But if you do — turn around. That's the last thing you have to do here."
Inside you, a carousel of emotions was making you dizzy. Why did the second choice seem so tempting? Oh fuck.
Would you regret this? Probably.
Was he right about Sasuke? Again, probably.
The thought sat heavy in your chest, cold and familiar. Sasuke's face flashed behind your eyes — the way he'd looked through you last week, like you were part of the furniture. The way he'd said your name like it was an inconvenience. The way he'd rolled over in bed, turning his back to you, without a single word.
You'd convinced yourself it was normal. That he was just stressed. That he'd come around.
But Itachi's words had cracked something open. He doesn't even care that much about you. You're here just as a distraction.
And the worst part?
You knew it was true.
You wanted this?
The question echoed in your skull, bouncing off the walls of your own doubt. Did you want him? Or did you just want to be wanted? To be seen? To feel like you mattered to someone — even for one night?
You wanted this?
Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. You stepped forward — just one step — and his hands fell to his sides. He wouldn't push you. If that's what you chose, exactly as he said.
The air between you was thick, charged. You could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, could hear the soft rhythm of his breathing. He wasn't moving. Wasn't reaching for you. Just... waiting.
Waiting for you to decide.
Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. Your palms were clammy. Your throat was dry. Every rational thought in your head was screaming at you to leave — to walk out that door, go home, and pretend this never happened.
But your body wouldn't listen.
Because the truth was, you were tired. Tired of feeling invisible. Tired of begging for scraps of affection from someone who couldn't even look at you. Tired of being the only one who fought for a relationship that was already dead.
And Itachi — this Itachi, the one standing in front of you with his dark eyes and patient silence — he made you feel seen.
You wanted to hate him for that.
But you couldn't.
So you turned around.
Slowly.
Your eyes met his. He didn't smile. Didn't gloat. Just watched you with that steady, knowing gaze, like he'd already known what you'd choose before you did.
Your ears were seething. Your eyes darted to the couch behind him, then back to his face. You wanted to run — the guilt spreading through your mind like poison, curling around your ribs, squeezing your chest.
But when he lifted his palms to your cheeks — warm and calloused and there — you forgot everything.
Even the reason why you were here.
"Forget about him," he whispered. His voice was so reassuring that your body went slack, letting your whole weight press into him. "You're so gorgeous."
You don't know who moved first. But then your lips crushed together — desperate, hungry, like you'd both been starving. You let out a little sigh against his mouth, your wet shirt pressing even more firmly against his hot skin. Your arms locked around his neck. The proximity made his palms lower to your hips, his fingers gripping your ass.
"Fuck." His lips left yours, only to nip and lick at your neck. "You drive me insane, sweetheart."
The moans spilled out of you effortlessly, your hands pulling at his long strands, tugging him closer.
You should stop this. You knew you should stop this.
But when his mouth found that spot just below your ear — the one that made your mind go blank — your thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm.
"Tell me you want this." His voice was breathless, rough. "Tell me you want me."
"I—"
"Don't think." He kissed down your throat. "Just feel."
His hands found the hem of your soaked jacket, fingers brushing against your cold skin. He pushed it off your shoulders slowly, letting the wet fabric slide down your arms. It landed on the floor with a soft, heavy thud.
Cold air hit your bare arms, your collarbones, the damp skin of your neck. You shivered — but not from the cold.
You should have felt exposed. Vulnerable.
Instead, you felt seen.
His eyes raked over you — taking in the way your thin shirt clung to your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, the way you were looking at him like he was the only thing in the room.
"You're shaking," he murmured.
"I'm cold," you lied.
His lips curved into that infuriating smirk. "No, you're not."
He was right. You weren't cold. You were burning.
His hands found your waist, guiding you backward until your knees hit the edge of the couch. You sank onto it, pulling him with you. He followed willingly — too willingly, like he'd been waiting for this invitation forever.
His weight settled over you, one knee between your thighs, his chest pressed against yours. The heat of him was overwhelming. Intoxicating.
His lips found yours again — slower this time, deeper. Like he was tasting you. Learning you.
You felt his hand slide down your stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans.
"Can I?" He whispered over your lips, toying with the button. His heavy-lidded eyes made you nod instantly. "I need your words."
"Yes."
He expertly took them off, and at the image of your pink lace panties, he let out a shaky breath. He returned to your lips, kissing you deeper. Your thighs came around his hips, grinding your front against the hard length visible through his sweats.
His breath hitched. His forehead dropped to yours, eyes fluttering closed.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You're going to kill me."
You did it again — slower this time, more deliberate. A quiet, desperate sound escaped his throat.
His hand slid down your stomach, fingers tracing the edge of your lace panties. He didn't push inside. Just felt. The heat of you through the thin fabric. The way your hips twitched toward his hand.
"So wet for me already," he murmured, almost to himself. "And I haven't even touched you yet."
"Then touch me," you whispered.
His eyes met yours — dark, burning, full of something you couldn't name.
"Say my name."
"What?"
"Say it." His thumb pressed gently against your clit through the lace, and you gasped. "I want to hear you say it when I make you fall apart."
"Itachi—"
"Again."
"Itachi." Your voice broke on the second syllable.
His mouth claimed yours, swallowing whatever else you might have said. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. You lifted your hips to help him — eager, desperate, completely gone. Then your shirt followed. Then your bra.
He tossed them aside, his eyes raking over you. Bare. Open. His.
He kissed down your body — your jaw, your throat, the hollow between your collarbones. His lips brushed over the tops of your breasts, then lower, taking each nipple into his mouth, licking, sucking, making you arch into him. Then he continued down — over your stomach, making you shiver.
And then his breath was between your thighs.
You forgot how to think.
His eyes looked up at you, taking in your agonized expression. Then he lowered his head, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He groaned — the sound vibrating directly through you. Your head was mush. Your eyes squeezed shut.
"Look at me, Y/n," he whispered, flicking your bud lightly. "Or I stop."
You forced your eyes open, a small moan escaping you. Once your eyes locked together, he closed his mouth over you, sucking delicately. You didn't know when was the last time you'd been worshiped like this.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the raven strands, while your legs opened wider.
"It feels so good. Fuck." You cried out as his tongue circled over the sensitive spot.
He moved slow. Too slow. Teasing and torturing you. Like he had all the time in the world with you. Like you were the only thing he cared about.
"Itachi — please —"
"Please what?" His voice vibrated against your sensitive skin.
"Please — don't stop —"
He didn't.
His tongue worked you relentlessly — slow, deliberate, consuming. Every flick, every circle, every time he sucked gently at your clit sent shockwaves through you. Your hips bucked against his mouth, but his hands pressed you down, holding you exactly where he wanted you.
"You're so responsive," he murmured against your slick skin. "I love it."
He dipped his tongue inside you, and you cried out, fingers tightening in his hair.
"Itachi — I'm close —"
"Not yet."
He pulled away just enough to make you whimper, then pressed two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly. A lewd moan escaped your throat. His mouth returned to your clit, and you were gone — completely, utterly gone.
You could only let the sounds escape you. Your body was his to ruin. Your eyes rolled back. You could feel how close you were.
His movements grew faster, his fingers pumping you, and then your vision turned white. The orgasm crashed over you. Your hips jerked, grinding harder against his tongue. And he didn't stop.
"That's it. Fuck my face, sweetheart."
He drank every last drop until you were shaking, gasping, begging him to stop.
Only then did he lift his head — lips glistening, eyes dark with hunger.
He crawled up your body slowly, deliberately, pressing soft kisses along your stomach, your ribs, the valley between your breasts. His weight settled over you, his forehead resting against yours.
"You have no idea," he murmured, voice rough and low, "how long I've wanted to taste you."
You couldn't speak. Could barely breathe. Your hands found his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin.
He smiled — that slow, devastating smile — and kissed you.
You tasted yourself on his lips.
Then you pushed him, his back pressing into the couch, and your thighs straddled him. You could feel him — hard, aching, straining against his sweats. You kissed his neck, brushing your fingers over his abs.
"Please," you whispered in his ear. "I need you inside me."
His forehead pressed against yours. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Please —"
He kissed you, deep and consuming, swallowing your words. You lifted slightly as his hands fumbled with the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down just enough.
Then he was there — the head of him pressing against your entrance, teasing, waiting. You ground slowly over his length, feeling every thick vein. He was big. You couldn't take your eyes off the flushed, angry tip.
"Look at me," he whispered.
You forced your eyes up.
"I want to see your face while you take me."
He lifted your hips with one hand, and with the other he guided himself and lowered you slowly — inch by agonizing inch — and you both gasped at the feeling. He was thick. Stretching. Perfect.
"Fuck —" His voice broke, forehead dropping to yours. "Ride me. Please."
You pulled out almost all the way, then sunk back in — deep and slow. Your back arched, your hips moving in circles. All you could think about was the way his cock was filling you so sweetly. Then his mouth was on your breast.
"Look at you," he murmured above one of your nipples. "Riding me so good. So fucking good."
His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, but he let you set the pace. Let you take what you needed. His mouth moved from one breast to the other, tongue circling, teeth grazing, making you shiver.
"You feel so perfect," he breathed against your skin. "Like you were made for this. Made for me."
You moaned in response, hips moving faster, chasing something you couldn't name. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, pressing your chest against his.
"I want to see you fall apart," he whispered. "I want to watch you come on my cock."
His words sent a shockwave through you. Your rhythm faltered, and he took over — thrusting up into you, deep and relentless, hitting that spot that made your vision blur.
"Come for me," he commanded softly. "Let go. I've got you."
He thrust a bit more, and your pussy squeezed so good — milking him. You cried out his name, nails digging into his shoulders, your body shuddering around him.
"Please — let me cum inside you. Please, sweetheart. I need to feel you —"
His voice broke on the last word, and you felt him twitch inside you, barely holding back.
"Do it," you breathed. "Please."
He didn't need to be told twice. His hips snapped up into you — once, twice — and then he was spilling inside you, hot and deep, groaning your name like it was the only word he knew.
You felt every pulse of him, your body still trembling from your own release. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you down against his chest, holding you like you might disappear.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just breathing. Just feeling.
Then he pressed a kiss to your temple, soft and tender.
"You're incredible," he murmured. "Do you know that?"
You didn't answer. Couldn't. Your face was buried in his neck, your heart still pounding.
His hand traced lazy circles on your back.
"I meant what I said," he whispered. "Stay."
You should have said no.
Instead, you pressed closer.
Morning came with grey light and steady rain.
You slipped out of his arms. Found your clothes. Dressed in silence.
He didn't stop you.
But as your hand touched the doorknob, his voice cut through the quiet.
"You'll come back."
You froze.
"You don't know that," you whispered.
"Don't I?"
You turned — just enough to catch his reflection in the window. He was sitting up now, sheet pooled around his waist, watching you with dark, knowing eyes.
"You'll come back," he repeated, "because he'll never give you what I can."
The words hung in the air. Heavy. True.
You opened the door and walked out into the cold morning.
And as the door clicked shut behind you, you knew — knew — that you'd be back.
Touching Each Other While Our Friends Sleep Next to Us
JJK men x reader
modern college AU
MDNI (18+)
Context: Post-frat party chaos. Your friends were passed out in every corner of the frat house. Some in different bedrooms, some on couches, bodies tangled. Because your boyfriend had a couple of drinks, his car is off the table, you two have to share the same makeshift bed with your friends until dawn.
INCLUDES:
Satoru Gojo
Suguru Geto
Choso Kamo
Ryomen Sukuna
Toji Fushiguro
a/n: This is my personal take on the characters. If it's not your vibe, that's cool, no need to hate. XOXO
Satoru Gojo:
His big, muscular body pressed into your back, his breath fanning against your hair. It seemed like he had already fallen asleep. You couldn’t. The feeling was so unbearable, almost suffocating, as you stared at the blank white wall in front of you.
You sighed and tried to shift, searching for a little more space. If the warmth of Gojo’s chest kept radiating against you like this, you were sure you’d lose it.
Then his long fingers found your hip, followed by his mouth on the shell of your ear.
“Stop squirming,” he murmured. “You’re already making this hard enough for me.”
Right on cue, the front of his jeans brushed against your back. Yeah… you definitely weren’t the only one feeling this way.
“Satoru,” you whispered, slowly grinding your hips back against him. “Please.”
“You want that cock, baby?”
You pressed yourself more firmly against him in a response.
“Unfortunately, that would be too risky,” he whispered with a quiet chuckle. “But what about these fingers, hm?”
His palm was already cupping you from behind, your little dress riding up around your thighs. Your panties were pushed aside.
“Always so wet for me.”
His knuckles spread the slickness between your folds while his other hand slid beneath you, covering your mouth to muffle the sounds threatening to escape. The movement of his hand quickened, and the quiet, wet sounds between your legs grew louder.
Yeah… the fact that Geto and Shoko were sleeping just a few feet away definitely made it worse.
“Come on, baby,” he breathed against your ear. “Ride my hand.”
Suguru Geto:
The scent of his perfume was intoxicating, and the way your head was nuzzled into his collarbone wasn’t helping. You wanted his hands all over you right now, just the two of you in his bed, not on this sofa with Gojo lying a few feet away.
“Sugu,” you whispered softly, peppering small kisses on his neck. “Are you awake?”
You pulled back slightly, and his intense gaze met yours in the dark of the night.
“What’s the matter here, sweetheart?” he murmured.
His fingers combed through your hair while the other hand rested on your waist. You took that hand and guided it between your bare, plush thighs, your dress no longer sitting where it should.
“Please… just touch me,” you whimpered, growing more impatient by the second.
A quiet chuckle vibrated in his chest.
“So needy tonight,” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear.
You captured his lips with yours, moaning softly as one of your hands slid down to stroke the outline of length through his pants. At the same time, his cool fingers met the heat between your thighs.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathed against your lips. “I wish we were home right now. I want to feel that pussy so bad.”
Then you heard a noise behind him.
A small movement.
You lift your head just enough to glance past Geto’s shoulder. Gojo facing the two of you but he was still asleep.
Your heart nearly stopped.
For a moment you thought those blue eyes would open.
“Eyes on me,” Geto murmured, pulling your attention back to him.
One of his hands inside of you while the other guided your over him.
“You don’t want to wake him up, do you?” he whispered. “Then we should hurry… and get the hell out of here.”
Ryomen Sukuna:
After the challenge you faced, both Sukuna and Toji were bulky as hell and there was barely any space for you on the sofa, you eventually managed to find a position, almost drifting off to sleep.
Then you felt movement behind you.
Sukuna’s hand settled on your stomach.
“Y/n,” he whispered, his lips brushing the bare skin of your back above your dress. “Have you fallen asleep already?”
“What’s up, Ryo?” you whispered, knowing damn well what he wanted. In answer, he rolled his hips just once—slow, deliberate—letting you feel the thick line of his cock pressing against your ass through his pants.
“Let’s take this off, shall we?” he murmured, sliding your panties down and lifting the dress. “I couldn’t help myself. I behaved all night, but this dress was a treasure and a curse.”
His voice dropped lower near your ear as he unbuttoned his pant.
You stomach curled, warmth pooling low in your body.
“Can I?” he asked, the tip of his cock spread the slickness from your entrance to your now sensitive clit.
“Please,” you whispered, lifting one of your legs slightly.
In the next second, he pushed inside you, every thick inch stretching you deliciously, and making you gasp softly.
“This pussy was made for me, princess,” he murmured. “Just like that, spread your thighs for me.”
Even though his movement weren’t fast at first, the quiet sound between you were impossible to ignore. Your stretched cunt that swallowed him whole. And they grew louder as his hips drove harder and faster into you.
“Come on my cock,” he breathed near your ear. “Make a mess.”
Choso Kamo:
Neither of you were asleep yet.
Both of you were painfully aware of the sexual tension between you.
Choso’s hand traced slow circles on your back while you cuddled against his tall frame. One of your legs slid between his calves, pressing your tits more firmly into his chest.
God, it was infuriating.
And it didn’t help that Yuki was asleep right next to you.
“Cho,” you whispered, letting your hand trail down on his lower abdomen.
He looked directly at you, the same raw, hungry look in his eyes. At the same time, there was hesitation too. Your friend was only a few inches away.
“You know we can’t,” he murmured.
He gently moved your hand away, lifting it to his lips and brushing a soft kiss across your palm.
“Please, baby,” you whispered, grinding your pussy slowly against his thigh, your hard nipples pressing closer to his chest.
His breath caught in his throat.
He didn’t stop you, but his hands settled on your ass, gripping slightly.
“What if she wakes up?” he asked quietly, uncertainty mixing with clear temptation.
“She won’t,” you reassured him.
You took his palm with one hand and guided it lower, until he could feel your soaked panties through the thin fabric. With the other, you freed your tits over the dress.
“Fuck. Me,” he breathed.
That was all he managed before he took one of your nipples into his, his restraint starting to slip.
Yuki mumbled something in her sleep and rolled onto her side, facing away from you both. Choso froze, his mouth still on your nipple, his fingers pressed against your thong. Neither of you breathed for three full seconds. Then she settled, her breathing evening out again.
Choso exhaled shakily against your skin. And then his fingers pushed your panties aside and began moving between your thighs, slow and hesitant at first.
“Such a good boy, baby,” you whispered softly in his ear.
At the praise, his movement became erratic, less controlled, his mouth switching your nipples, sucking around them harder.
You were both a mess.
“Please,” he whimpered hoarsely. “I want to taste you. Cum on my fingers baby.”
Toji Fushiguro:
Your body was trapped between the cold wall and Toji’s broad chest, his arms wrapping around you, his face resting against your shoulder.
You both were far from being asleep. You, because the space was so tight you could barely breathe. Him… well, the facts spoke for themselves, as his lips brushed your neck and his tongue grazed your sensitive area from time to time.
“Doll,” he murmured, the vibration sending jolts straight between your thighs.
His fingers slid slowly under the hem of your skirt, tracing deliberate patterns on your heated skin. He pressed harder into your back.
“I know you’re not sleeping,” his voice low, edged with warning, before his teeth gently nipped at your shoulder.
Your whole body tingled, the wetness in your panties growing.
“Toji,” you whispered, letting your legs part instinctively.
“Yeah?” His smirk audible in his voice as his hand moved beneath your skirt, slowly beginning to pull off your panties.
“Sukuna,” you whispered, remembering the friend asleep just inches away. “He’ll wake up.”
“I don’t think so,” Toji chuckled, lowering himself down your body, until his mouth found your pussy from behind. “Keep your mouth shut for me.”
Then his tongue licked from your clit to your entrance, circling, then up to your ass. His quiet groan vibrated into your body.
“Oh my god,” you whimpered, then clapped your hand over your mouth to muffle all the noises and moans that would spill off from your lips.
“Tastes so good, doll,” he muttered. “I’ve thought about this since the moment I picked you up tonight.”
Your back arched at his words. The moment he spat on you, the moan that came out was loud enough that your hand couldn’t stop it. Then he licked faster, harder, lapping at your ass, your entrance, your clit.
Then you both froze at the deep voice: “Mind if I join?”
a/n: This is my personal take on the characters. If it's not your vibe, that's cool, no need to hate. XOXO
Itachi: MIRROR SEX
Itachi would love making you watch what he does to you. First time, you would be so shy.
He talked into your ear, undressing you, slow and deliberate, until you remained stark naked, while he was still dressed. Then started stroking your clit leisurely, until you shook uncontrollably.
He bent you over, hands on the glass, as he unbuttoned his pants, sliding in unhurried but deep. His eyes never left yours in the reflection. Dark. Hungry. Completely in control.
“You feel so good, my love. Look at that face. You like it, don’t you, baby? Yes, you do.”
Yahiko/Tendo Pain: FACE FUCKING
Oh, this guy loves eating pussy, and when I say this, I mean it.
He loves his face drenched in you, your hips moving in circles while he switches between his nose and tongue to flick your bud, the cold metal of his piercings dragging against you each time. He even gets hysterical, heart pounding and all, if you squirt on his face. He loves being suffocated by your pussy. He doesn't care if he can't breathe. He doesn't want to
“Yes baby. That’s it. Fuck, don’t you dare stoppping. Let go for me.”
Nagato: BODY WORSHIP
He loves you. Your personality, your smile, your eyes, your cute face, and your body. That’s why he would take his time every time - kissing every inch of you, complimenting even your scars and marks. He sees them as unique parts of you.
“You are so beautiful baby. Look at this tummy. These hips. You are so beautiful. I love you so much.”
Sasori: Somnophilia
He's the type to wake in the middle of the night and crave that sweet pussy. Once you agree to it, he's the happiest man alive, starting by planning it in silence. He doesn't rush. He never rushes.
That night, you feel his tongue first. Slow. Flat. Dragging through your folds like he has all night. "Tastes so fucking good, princess."
His voice is low, rough, barely a whisper. "C'mon. Wake up."
You stir. His mouth doesn't stop. "That's it. Good girl, baby."
Deidara: MUTUAL MASTURBATION
He would definitely get off just by watching you, sitting on a futon across from the bed.
You, toying your clit with three fingers, whispering his name all the while, he, stroking his length, in the same rhythm you do, the tongue in his palm following the thick veins that scream with want.
Your breaths syncing. Your moans echoing each other.
“Spread your legs wide. Yeah, exactly like that. Fuck, you’re soaked princess. All that for me, hm?”
Hidan: EDGING
Hidan is completely merciless, liking to be in control of your body. It doesn’t matter how much you beg, how tears stream down your cheeks, drenching your desperate face.
No. He would play with you as much as he wants, giving you hope, feeling the orgasm near and nearer, and then he would stop, slapping your cunt slightly. And he’d laugh, that unhinged, gleeful laugh.
He would do this until he thinks that you deserve to cum, but it would be worth all the desperation in the end.
“What was that? You can't wait anymore? Ohhh, but you can. Yes, you can. Say it. 'Yes, I can.' Louder. 'YES, I CAN.' There's my good little girl.”
Suigetsu: ROLEPLAYING
I feel like Suigetsu would be the type of submissive catboy boyfriend, but he wouldn't hesitate to take the lead if you wanted him to. He does pretty much whatever you want.
Ears on. Tail on. Whining when you tug his leash. He'll hate how much he likes it.
And when he is in charge? He's not mean. He's earnest. "Tell me if it's too much. Wait — was that hot? Did that sound hot? I'm trying."
He'll be anyone. Anything. Just tell him the script.
Madara: BREATH PLAYING
The moment you agree to his request, because you are down bad for this too, it wouldn’t be a time when this won’t happen.
Fucking you into the mattress, Madara would switch from cutting the air from your lungs, or letting you exhale small amounts of it, a crude smile on his face. His palm pressed flat against your throat. Thumb and fingers curled around the sides. Not squeezing yet, just resting there. A promise.
“Breathe for me. That's it. Now hold it. Good girl.”
The same goes while you ride him, or as you take it from behind.
The reaction of your body would make your pussy squeeze him so hard, that he would not be able to thrust all the way inside you. Your nails would dig into his shoulders. Your mouth would fall open, searching for air that isn't there. And he'd watch, hungry, drinking in every desperate sound.
a/n: This is my personal take on the characters. If it's not your vibe, that's cool, no need to hate. XOXO
Naruto: DRY HUMPING
Naruto seems like the type to fucking love this, grinding against you while you're both lost in a messy, desperate make-out session.
Usually he is completely dressed, while you have a tiny thong on. You on top, he under you, moving your hips against his rock-hard length, all the while kissing you desperately, moaning into your mouth like he can’t get enough of this.
His face would be red, all the way to his ears, but he wouldn't look away. He'd watch. Every grind. Every wet sound.
“You feel so fucking good, ya know? Look at the mess. All over me. You like it, don’t ya, sweetheart?”
Sasuke: INFIDELITY KINK
The second he mentioned wanting to try this, you agreed. It's been your favorite kind of roleplay ever since. The thrill, the idea of getting caught doing such a thing is everything.
Usually he’s the one getting cheated, becoming the stranger from the bar where you have a drink. The random guy from the library who invites you to “his” house, just to show you his book collection. The ex you swore you'd never talk to again. He does his part so good, that you almost believe the scenario.
“Aww. Poor little thing. Letting a stranger stretch that pretty pussy while your boyfriend thinks you're at the library. You like it, don't you? Getting fucked by a stranger.”
Shikamaru: SHIBARI
Trust me, Shikamaru is a control freak. He would love manhandling you, maneuvering your body as he wants. Which is ironic, considering he complains about everything else being 'troublesome.' But this? He'd never say that about this.
Probably, his favorite position would be with you bent forward, your arms tied, the rope having a cute ribbon in the middle. His fingers steadying your body, as he thrusts lazy but deep enough to make your toes curl with pleasure. He'd watch your face over your shoulder, that boyish smirk never leaving his lips, drinking in every whimper.
“What was that, my love? I’m too big for you? That’s troublesome... because look at how good your pussy treats me. All sloppy and shit.”
Kakashi: CUCKOLDING
Yes, he is that confident in himself, to let his woman get fucked in front of him by another man. Yes, he would most likely imply Obito in the setting.
First, he was a bit reluctant to propose this to you, thinking you would reject his idea instantly, at the same time being embarrassed to say it out loud to you. But when he gathered the courage, he was surprised when you nodded with a little, shy smile. He definitely asked you for more than fifty times, and asked if you'd be comfortable with someone you both already knew.
Obito is the best choice of all, being at the same time more different than Kakashi. More cocky, more crude than your husband, offering him a 10/10 show.
“Look at you. Who knew you'd jump on his cock so fast, sweetheart? Not that I'm complaining,” Kakashi would say, his hand stroking himself slowly, his unmasked eye analytical, but hungry.
"You like that?” Obito would laugh cruelly. “Of course you do. Look at you — soaking my cock like a good little slut. Isn't she, Kakashi?"
Obito: GAGGING KINK
He is obsessed with the sound of your throat as he pushes in, either with his fingers, his dick, or a toy on your tongue, making him feral.
Your desperation, the tears streaming one after another, which he wouldn’t wipe away. Your chin drenched in drool. He'd just watch mesmerized.
His favorite way is with his fingers. His hands are rough, calloused, scarred, but he'd be so careful with you. Every movement deliberate. Every press of his fingers calculated. He instructs you through everything. Open wider. Breathe through your nose. You can take it. His eyes never leaving your face, patient, enjoying every sound that escapes you.
He'd keep his mask on sometimes. Other times, he'd pull it up, onto his forehead so you could see his face. His proud smirk.
“Ah, fuck. Look at how hard you get me, baby. Do that again. Do that sound again, please.”
Jiraiya: VOYEURISM
This doesn't even need explaining. You already know I'm right. He has this big pleasure of lurking behind the door, the sofa, the curtains, enjoying the sight of you touching yourself as if he weren't in the same room.
You usually like to tease him too, smirking devilishly when you hear his low, almost imperceptible groans. Then you'd give him a little gaze over your shoulder. From the glass shower, your back pressed against the cold wall, one leg hitched up, your restless fingers pushing in and out. You'd slow down on purpose, just to hear him whine.
You'd catch his stare behind the bathroom door, one hand stroking his cock lazily, his lip caught between his teeth.
"I wish Jiraiya was here," you moaned, loud.
It didn't take long before he slid under the running water, bending you over, your palms pressed against the glass.
"Mission accomplished. Daddy's here." Then he thrust, hard enough to make you scream.
a/n: This is my personal take on the characters. If it's not your vibe, that's cool, no need to hate. XOXO
Itachi: MIRROR SEX
Itachi would love making you watch what he does to you. First time, you would be so shy.
He talked into your ear, undressing you, slow and deliberate, until you remained stark naked, while he was still dressed. Then started stroking your clit leisurely, until you shook uncontrollably.
He bent you over, hands on the glass, as he unbuttoned his pants, sliding in unhurried but deep. His eyes never left yours in the reflection. Dark. Hungry. Completely in control.
“You feel so good, my love. Look at that face. You like it, don’t you, baby? Yes, you do.”
Yahiko/Tendo Pain: FACE FUCKING
Oh, this guy loves eating pussy, and when I say this, I mean it.
He loves his face drenched in you, your hips moving in circles while he switches between his nose and tongue to flick your bud, the cold metal of his piercings dragging against you each time. He even gets hysterical, heart pounding and all, if you squirt on his face. He loves being suffocated by your pussy. He doesn't care if he can't breathe. He doesn't want to
“Yes baby. That’s it. Fuck, don’t you dare stoppping. Let go for me.”
Nagato: BODY WORSHIP
He loves you. Your personality, your smile, your eyes, your cute face, and your body. That’s why he would take his time every time - kissing every inch of you, complimenting even your scars and marks. He sees them as unique parts of you.
“You are so beautiful baby. Look at this tummy. These hips. You are so beautiful. I love you so much.”
Sasori: Somnophilia
He's the type to wake in the middle of the night and crave that sweet pussy. Once you agree to it, he's the happiest man alive, starting by planning it in silence. He doesn't rush. He never rushes.
That night, you feel his tongue first. Slow. Flat. Dragging through your folds like he has all night. "Tastes so fucking good, princess."
His voice is low, rough, barely a whisper. "C'mon. Wake up."
You stir. His mouth doesn't stop. "That's it. Good girl, baby."
Deidara: MUTUAL MASTURBATION
He would definitely get off just by watching you, sitting on a futon across from the bed.
You, toying your clit with three fingers, whispering his name all the while, he, stroking his length, in the same rhythm you do, the tongue in his palm following the thick veins that scream with want.
Your breaths syncing. Your moans echoing each other.
“Spread your legs wide. Yeah, exactly like that. Fuck, you’re soaked princess. All that for me, hm?”
Hidan: EDGING
Hidan is completely merciless, liking to be in control of your body. It doesn’t matter how much you beg, how tears stream down your cheeks, drenching your desperate face.
No. He would play with you as much as he wants, giving you hope, feeling the orgasm near and nearer, and then he would stop, slapping your cunt slightly. And he’d laugh, that unhinged, gleeful laugh.
He would do this until he thinks that you deserve to cum, but it would be worth all the desperation in the end.
“What was that? You can't wait anymore? Ohhh, but you can. Yes, you can. Say it. 'Yes, I can.' Louder. 'YES, I CAN.' There's my good little girl.”
Suigetsu: ROLEPLAYING
I feel like Suigetsu would be the type of submissive catboy boyfriend, but he wouldn't hesitate to take the lead if you wanted him to. He does pretty much whatever you want.
Ears on. Tail on. Whining when you tug his leash. He'll hate how much he likes it.
And when he is in charge? He's not mean. He's earnest. "Tell me if it's too much. Wait — was that hot? Did that sound hot? I'm trying."
He'll be anyone. Anything. Just tell him the script.
Madara: BREATH PLAYING
The moment you agree to his request, because you are down bad for this too, it wouldn’t be a time when this won’t happen.
Fucking you into the mattress, Madara would switch from cutting the air from your lungs, or letting you exhale small amounts of it, a crude smile on his face. His palm pressed flat against your throat. Thumb and fingers curled around the sides. Not squeezing yet, just resting there. A promise.
“Breathe for me. That's it. Now hold it. Good girl.”
The same goes while you ride him, or as you take it from behind.
The reaction of your body would make your pussy squeeze him so hard, that he would not be able to thrust all the way inside you. Your nails would dig into his shoulders. Your mouth would fall open, searching for air that isn't there. And he'd watch, hungry, drinking in every desperate sound.
The big droplets continued to fall from the darkened sky, hammering against the pavement, against your shoulders, against the door you kept pounding. You knocked again, harder this time, your fist aching from the cold. The rain had soaked through everything — your jacket, your shirt, your skin. You were shivering so badly your teeth chattered, but you wouldn't leave. Not until he answered.
You hated this. Hated the way Sasuke's hollow, emotionless face kept flickering behind your eyes. You were doing this for him. It mattered. You couldn't back down now.
When the door finally swung open, your breath caught in your lungs.
Water dripped from your hair, sliding down your neck, pooling at your collarbones. You probably looked pathetic — drenched, trembling, wide-eyed. You didn't care.
Itachi stood in the doorway, shirtless, his dark hair slightly damp, like he'd just stepped out of the shower. His eyes moved over you slowly — taking in the way your wet shirt clung to your skin, the way you hugged yourself against the cold, the way your lips were blue from shivering. You avoided looking anywhere else but his face. Avoided looking at his bare chest, his athletic arms, the way his sweats hung low on his hips. Definitely avoided that.
And now what? Why were the words that had been building on your tongue refusing to spill out? You could only glare at him, jaw tight, fists clenched at your sides. And to that, the corner of his mouth lifted a little — almost imperceptibly. Like he knew exactly what you were feeling.
His eyes dropped, just for a second, to where your wet shirt clung to your skin. Then back to your face. Like he'd seen everything he needed to see.
He remained in the middle of the door.
"My, my. Look who's here."
That voice. That fucking voice that made your knees weak for reasons you refused to understand. You despised the way he made you feel.
"Don't 'my my' me," you said between your teeth. "What did you say to him? What was it this time, Itachi?"
"To who?" The mocking in his voice wasn't hard to miss.
"You know who I'm talking about. Why are you like this, damn it?"
"He's such a crybaby." He sighed, already fed up with the whole conversation. "He ran to his girlfriend's arms to tell her everything, didn't he?"
His body shifted, leaning his arms on the door frame, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing at the movement. You forced your eyes back to his face.
"I came here just to say one thing, Itachi. Leave him alone."
"And why would I do that, sweetheart?" His voice dropped lower. "Give me a reason."
Hearing his tone — the way he wouldn't back down this easily — weakened your resolve. But you couldn't let your boyfriend down, could you? Even if he was how he was. His cold behavior. The way he only sought you out at night, like you were convenient. The days when you didn't hear from him at all.
"How about you come inside." Itachi stepped aside, gesturing with his head. "Your clothes are drenched. You'll catch pneumonia."
He stepped outside — just enough to take your arm and guide you into the warmth of his house. And only then did you realize how badly you were shaking. The warmth hit you like a wave — the heat of the fireplace, the soft glow of lamps, the scent of cedar and rain. You were freezing to the bone.
You were so confused about this guy. Were you missing something?
He led you into what seemed to be the living room. Then he turned to face you.
"Want some tea?"
You shook your head, hugging yourself, trying to regain some composure. Why was he so kind to you but so cruel to his brother? Why did he look at you like you were precious — but talk about Sasuke like he was nothing?
"Please," you started, your voice quieter than you intended. "Maybe I don't understand the situation between you two. But please — could you leave him alone? It consumes him."
"Why do you care so much, Y/n?" His voice was softer now. "Do you think he would do the same, if the roles were changed?"
"He's my boyfriend."
"He's your boyfriend?" He let out a low, humorless laugh. "That's pathetic. He doesn't even care that much about you. When was the last time he took you on a date? When was the last time he said he loved you?"
"That's not your business," you said, too fast. Too fast — he almost saw through your cracks. The sadness in your soul.
"Don't hide it, sweetheart." He stepped closer. "I already know everything. He's so caught up in himself that you don't matter at all. You're here just as a distraction. When was the last time he actually—"
"Don't you dare." Your voice cracked. "You know nothing about us. So don't pretend as if you do. Okay, smartass?"
He was so surprised by your outburst that it was hard for him to contain his smile. That infuriated you even more.
"You know what? Be as cruel as you want to be — but not with Sasuke, okay? Leave him alone."
You moved to leave.
But his arm caught your wrist. His bare chest met your back. You shivered — unconsciously — at the sudden warmth of him against your cold skin. His other hand locked on your waist. Your heart was restless. Something warm and dangerous settled in your belly. This had to be your imagination, right?
"He doesn't deserve you."
His lips brushed softly against your ear. And the way he said it — so close, so intimate — made your knees buckle.
Why did you feel like this? This whole interaction had been confusing since you arrived. But now you couldn't understand anything. You wanted so badly to press your body into his. You wanted him to touch you. These feelings amplified when his nose breathed in your scent — slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing you.
"If you don't want this, you can go now. Forget this ever happened." His voice was low, steady. "But if you do — turn around. That's the last thing you have to do here."
Inside you, a carousel of emotions was making you dizzy. Why did the second choice seem so tempting? Oh fuck.
Would you regret this? Probably.
Was he right about Sasuke? Again, probably.
The thought sat heavy in your chest, cold and familiar. Sasuke's face flashed behind your eyes — the way he'd looked through you last week, like you were part of the furniture. The way he'd said your name like it was an inconvenience. The way he'd rolled over in bed, turning his back to you, without a single word.
You'd convinced yourself it was normal. That he was just stressed. That he'd come around.
But Itachi's words had cracked something open. He doesn't even care that much about you. You're here just as a distraction.
And the worst part?
You knew it was true.
You wanted this?
The question echoed in your skull, bouncing off the walls of your own doubt. Did you want him? Or did you just want to be wanted? To be seen? To feel like you mattered to someone — even for one night?
You wanted this?
Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. You stepped forward — just one step — and his hands fell to his sides. He wouldn't push you. If that's what you chose, exactly as he said.
The air between you was thick, charged. You could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, could hear the soft rhythm of his breathing. He wasn't moving. Wasn't reaching for you. Just... waiting.
Waiting for you to decide.
Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. Your palms were clammy. Your throat was dry. Every rational thought in your head was screaming at you to leave — to walk out that door, go home, and pretend this never happened.
But your body wouldn't listen.
Because the truth was, you were tired. Tired of feeling invisible. Tired of begging for scraps of affection from someone who couldn't even look at you. Tired of being the only one who fought for a relationship that was already dead.
And Itachi — this Itachi, the one standing in front of you with his dark eyes and patient silence — he made you feel seen.
You wanted to hate him for that.
But you couldn't.
So you turned around.
Slowly.
Your eyes met his. He didn't smile. Didn't gloat. Just watched you with that steady, knowing gaze, like he'd already known what you'd choose before you did.
Your ears were seething. Your eyes darted to the couch behind him, then back to his face. You wanted to run — the guilt spreading through your mind like poison, curling around your ribs, squeezing your chest.
But when he lifted his palms to your cheeks — warm and calloused and there — you forgot everything.
Even the reason why you were here.
"Forget about him," he whispered. His voice was so reassuring that your body went slack, letting your whole weight press into him. "You're so gorgeous."
You don't know who moved first. But then your lips crushed together — desperate, hungry, like you'd both been starving. You let out a little sigh against his mouth, your wet shirt pressing even more firmly against his hot skin. Your arms locked around his neck. The proximity made his palms lower to your hips, his fingers gripping your ass.
"Fuck." His lips left yours, only to nip and lick at your neck. "You drive me insane, sweetheart."
The moans spilled out of you effortlessly, your hands pulling at his long strands, tugging him closer.
You should stop this. You knew you should stop this.
But when his mouth found that spot just below your ear — the one that made your mind go blank — your thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm.
"Tell me you want this." His voice was breathless, rough. "Tell me you want me."
"I—"
"Don't think." He kissed down your throat. "Just feel."
His hands found the hem of your soaked jacket, fingers brushing against your cold skin. He pushed it off your shoulders slowly, letting the wet fabric slide down your arms. It landed on the floor with a soft, heavy thud.
Cold air hit your bare arms, your collarbones, the damp skin of your neck. You shivered — but not from the cold.
You should have felt exposed. Vulnerable.
Instead, you felt seen.
His eyes raked over you — taking in the way your thin shirt clung to your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, the way you were looking at him like he was the only thing in the room.
"You're shaking," he murmured.
"I'm cold," you lied.
His lips curved into that infuriating smirk. "No, you're not."
He was right. You weren't cold. You were burning.
His hands found your waist, guiding you backward until your knees hit the edge of the couch. You sank onto it, pulling him with you. He followed willingly — too willingly, like he'd been waiting for this invitation forever.
His weight settled over you, one knee between your thighs, his chest pressed against yours. The heat of him was overwhelming. Intoxicating.
His lips found yours again — slower this time, deeper. Like he was tasting you. Learning you.
You felt his hand slide down your stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans.
"Can I?" He whispered over your lips, toying with the button. His heavy-lidded eyes made you nod instantly. "I need your words."
"Yes."
He expertly took them off, and at the image of your pink lace panties, he let out a shaky breath. He returned to your lips, kissing you deeper. Your thighs came around his hips, grinding your front against the hard length visible through his sweats.
His breath hitched. His forehead dropped to yours, eyes fluttering closed.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You're going to kill me."
You did it again — slower this time, more deliberate. A quiet, desperate sound escaped his throat.
His hand slid down your stomach, fingers tracing the edge of your lace panties. He didn't push inside. Just felt. The heat of you through the thin fabric. The way your hips twitched toward his hand.
"So wet for me already," he murmured, almost to himself. "And I haven't even touched you yet."
"Then touch me," you whispered.
His eyes met yours — dark, burning, full of something you couldn't name.
"Say my name."
"What?"
"Say it." His thumb pressed gently against your clit through the lace, and you gasped. "I want to hear you say it when I make you fall apart."
"Itachi—"
"Again."
"Itachi." Your voice broke on the second syllable.
His mouth claimed yours, swallowing whatever else you might have said. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. You lifted your hips to help him — eager, desperate, completely gone. Then your shirt followed. Then your bra.
He tossed them aside, his eyes raking over you. Bare. Open. His.
He kissed down your body — your jaw, your throat, the hollow between your collarbones. His lips brushed over the tops of your breasts, then lower, taking each nipple into his mouth, licking, sucking, making you arch into him. Then he continued down — over your stomach, making you shiver.
And then his breath was between your thighs.
You forgot how to think.
His eyes looked up at you, taking in your agonized expression. Then he lowered his head, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He groaned — the sound vibrating directly through you. Your head was mush. Your eyes squeezed shut.
"Look at me, Y/n," he whispered, flicking your bud lightly. "Or I stop."
You forced your eyes open, a small moan escaping you. Once your eyes locked together, he closed his mouth over you, sucking delicately. You didn't know when was the last time you'd been worshiped like this.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the raven strands, while your legs opened wider.
"It feels so good. Fuck." You cried out as his tongue circled over the sensitive spot.
He moved slow. Too slow. Teasing and torturing you. Like he had all the time in the world with you. Like you were the only thing he cared about.
"Itachi — please —"
"Please what?" His voice vibrated against your sensitive skin.
"Please — don't stop —"
He didn't.
His tongue worked you relentlessly — slow, deliberate, consuming. Every flick, every circle, every time he sucked gently at your clit sent shockwaves through you. Your hips bucked against his mouth, but his hands pressed you down, holding you exactly where he wanted you.
"You're so responsive," he murmured against your slick skin. "I love it."
He dipped his tongue inside you, and you cried out, fingers tightening in his hair.
"Itachi — I'm close —"
"Not yet."
He pulled away just enough to make you whimper, then pressed two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly. A lewd moan escaped your throat. His mouth returned to your clit, and you were gone — completely, utterly gone.
You could only let the sounds escape you. Your body was his to ruin. Your eyes rolled back. You could feel how close you were.
His movements grew faster, his fingers pumping you, and then your vision turned white. The orgasm crashed over you. Your hips jerked, grinding harder against his tongue. And he didn't stop.
"That's it. Fuck my face, sweetheart."
He drank every last drop until you were shaking, gasping, begging him to stop.
Only then did he lift his head — lips glistening, eyes dark with hunger.
He crawled up your body slowly, deliberately, pressing soft kisses along your stomach, your ribs, the valley between your breasts. His weight settled over you, his forehead resting against yours.
"You have no idea," he murmured, voice rough and low, "how long I've wanted to taste you."
You couldn't speak. Could barely breathe. Your hands found his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin.
He smiled — that slow, devastating smile — and kissed you.
You tasted yourself on his lips.
Then you pushed him, his back pressing into the couch, and your thighs straddled him. You could feel him — hard, aching, straining against his sweats. You kissed his neck, brushing your fingers over his abs.
"Please," you whispered in his ear. "I need you inside me."
His forehead pressed against yours. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Please —"
He kissed you, deep and consuming, swallowing your words. You lifted slightly as his hands fumbled with the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down just enough.
Then he was there — the head of him pressing against your entrance, teasing, waiting. You ground slowly over his length, feeling every thick vein. He was big. You couldn't take your eyes off the flushed, angry tip.
"Look at me," he whispered.
You forced your eyes up.
"I want to see your face while you take me."
He lifted your hips with one hand, and with the other he guided himself and lowered you slowly — inch by agonizing inch — and you both gasped at the feeling. He was thick. Stretching. Perfect.
"Fuck —" His voice broke, forehead dropping to yours. "Ride me. Please."
You pulled out almost all the way, then sunk back in — deep and slow. Your back arched, your hips moving in circles. All you could think about was the way his cock was filling you so sweetly. Then his mouth was on your breast.
"Look at you," he murmured above one of your nipples. "Riding me so good. So fucking good."
His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, but he let you set the pace. Let you take what you needed. His mouth moved from one breast to the other, tongue circling, teeth grazing, making you shiver.
"You feel so perfect," he breathed against your skin. "Like you were made for this. Made for me."
You moaned in response, hips moving faster, chasing something you couldn't name. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, pressing your chest against his.
"I want to see you fall apart," he whispered. "I want to watch you come on my cock."
His words sent a shockwave through you. Your rhythm faltered, and he took over — thrusting up into you, deep and relentless, hitting that spot that made your vision blur.
"Come for me," he commanded softly. "Let go. I've got you."
He thrust a bit more, and your pussy squeezed so good — milking him. You cried out his name, nails digging into his shoulders, your body shuddering around him.
"Please — let me cum inside you. Please, sweetheart. I need to feel you —"
His voice broke on the last word, and you felt him twitch inside you, barely holding back.
"Do it," you breathed. "Please."
He didn't need to be told twice. His hips snapped up into you — once, twice — and then he was spilling inside you, hot and deep, groaning your name like it was the only word he knew.
You felt every pulse of him, your body still trembling from your own release. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you down against his chest, holding you like you might disappear.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just breathing. Just feeling.
Then he pressed a kiss to your temple, soft and tender.
"You're incredible," he murmured. "Do you know that?"
You didn't answer. Couldn't. Your face was buried in his neck, your heart still pounding.
His hand traced lazy circles on your back.
"I meant what I said," he whispered. "Stay."
You should have said no.
Instead, you pressed closer.
Morning came with grey light and steady rain.
You slipped out of his arms. Found your clothes. Dressed in silence.
He didn't stop you.
But as your hand touched the doorknob, his voice cut through the quiet.
"You'll come back."
You froze.
"You don't know that," you whispered.
"Don't I?"
You turned — just enough to catch his reflection in the window. He was sitting up now, sheet pooled around his waist, watching you with dark, knowing eyes.
"You'll come back," he repeated, "because he'll never give you what I can."
The words hung in the air. Heavy. True.
You opened the door and walked out into the cold morning.
And as the door clicked shut behind you, you knew — knew — that you'd be back.
Heyyyy I hope that you’re well, I would like too request an angst to comfort shikamaru x reader where they get into an argument and the reader tries to go to bed angry and shikamaru isn’t having any of it, if that makes sense.
Of course, as always, im always super happy to write about Shika. Sorry for the delay, and I'm sorry if it's short, im gonna write another thing soon to make it up, haha.
You are a drag and troublesome, but i still love you.
Tags/warnings: none.
Shikamaru x gn reader
You couldn't even remember the fight well, not because it wasn't serious, but your brain was tired, angry, but tired, that kind of tiredness that only comes after crying a lot or straining the body.
You never fought, sure, you had arguments, but never a fight, and although this wasn't completely a fight it felt like it, because usually he said something dumb, you got annoyed, and everything was okay again five minutes later, but now?, now it had been 5 hours and you where still not talking, and yes, it was because he wanted to give you space, and although appreciated, an angry heart makes an unreasonable brain, so, for you that space turned into a 'he doesn't care' even if it wasn't true.
So by night you changed into your pajamas, brow still furrowed as you turned off the light, him already in bed looking at you from the corner of the eye as he read, that look he always had when analyzing things.
Your back was turned on him, hand toying with a strang of fabric of the pillow, eyes tired but yet refusing to sleep, a lingering pressure on the chest.
You two stayed quiet a few moments, could have been five seconds, five minutes or five months, either way he moved after those moments, a small sound indicating his book had been left on the nightstand, and the soft rustling of sheets besides you made you open your eyes more.
And then quiet again, because you two knew this wasn't about being right or wrong, that was forgotten, but the important thing was lifting the ache on the heart, being at peace.
'Tch… I hate going to bed like this. It’s a pain in the ass, "he murmured in his usual annoyed tone, yet the way his body heat became closer and how his forehead pressed against your shoulder softly said otherwise.
'I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just didn’t know what you wanted me to say', he said as you took a deep breath.
'...i care about you, about us, and its a drag, and I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry, and i know its not that much of what you want to hear but what i should say as your partner, and the truth, because i do love you, even if you are the most troublesome living organism i know', he whispered softly, hand moving to caress your arm gently once your body relaxed more.
'...you are an idiot', you mumbled but didn't moved away.
'I know', he said simply moving so you could get closer to him.
He was an idiot, an intelligent one, but he was... still, he was your idiot.
'...does that mean im not getting killed with a kunai while i sleep anymore?', he asked in a whisper, a soft smile appearing on your lips even if you tried to repress it.
'Im still thinking about it', you whispered, but moved closer to him, his hand intertwining with yours.
a/n: This is my personal take on the characters. If it's not your vibe, that's cool, no need to hate. XOXO
Naruto: DRY HUMPING
Naruto seems like the type to fucking love this, grinding against you while you're both lost in a messy, desperate make-out session.
Usually he is completely dressed, while you have a tiny thong on. You on top, he under you, moving your hips against his rock-hard length, all the while kissing you desperately, moaning into your mouth like he can’t get enough of this.
His face would be red, all the way to his ears, but he wouldn't look away. He'd watch. Every grind. Every wet sound.
“You feel so fucking good, ya know? Look at the mess. All over me. You like it, don’t ya, sweetheart?”
Sasuke: INFIDELITY KINK
The second he mentioned wanting to try this, you agreed. It's been your favorite kind of roleplay ever since. The thrill, the idea of getting caught doing such a thing is everything.
Usually he’s the one getting cheated, becoming the stranger from the bar where you have a drink. The random guy from the library who invites you to “his” house, just to show you his book collection. The ex you swore you'd never talk to again. He does his part so good, that you almost believe the scenario.
“Aww. Poor little thing. Letting a stranger stretch that pretty pussy while your boyfriend thinks you're at the library. You like it, don't you? Getting fucked by a stranger.”
Shikamaru: SHIBARI
Trust me, Shikamaru is a control freak. He would love manhandling you, maneuvering your body as he wants. Which is ironic, considering he complains about everything else being 'troublesome.' But this? He'd never say that about this.
Probably, his favorite position would be with you bent forward, your arms tied, the rope having a cute ribbon in the middle. His fingers steadying your body, as he thrusts lazy but deep enough to make your toes curl with pleasure. He'd watch your face over your shoulder, that boyish smirk never leaving his lips, drinking in every whimper.
“What was that, my love? I’m too big for you? That’s troublesome... because look at how good your pussy treats me. All sloppy and shit.”
Kakashi: CUCKOLDING
Yes, he is that confident in himself, to let his woman get fucked in front of him by another man. Yes, he would most likely imply Obito in the setting.
First, he was a bit reluctant to propose this to you, thinking you would reject his idea instantly, at the same time being embarrassed to say it out loud to you. But when he gathered the courage, he was surprised when you nodded with a little, shy smile. He definitely asked you for more than fifty times, and asked if you'd be comfortable with someone you both already knew.
Obito is the best choice of all, being at the same time more different than Kakashi. More cocky, more crude than your husband, offering him a 10/10 show.
“Look at you. Who knew you'd jump on his cock so fast, sweetheart? Not that I'm complaining,” Kakashi would say, his hand stroking himself slowly, his unmasked eye analytical, but hungry.
"You like that?” Obito would laugh cruelly. “Of course you do. Look at you — soaking my cock like a good little slut. Isn't she, Kakashi?"
Obito: GAGGING KINK
He is obsessed with the sound of your throat as he pushes in, either with his fingers, his dick, or a toy on your tongue, making him feral.
Your desperation, the tears streaming one after another, which he wouldn’t wipe away. Your chin drenched in drool. He'd just watch mesmerized.
His favorite way is with his fingers. His hands are rough, calloused, scarred, but he'd be so careful with you. Every movement deliberate. Every press of his fingers calculated. He instructs you through everything. Open wider. Breathe through your nose. You can take it. His eyes never leaving your face, patient, enjoying every sound that escapes you.
He'd keep his mask on sometimes. Other times, he'd pull it up, onto his forehead so you could see his face. His proud smirk.
“Ah, fuck. Look at how hard you get me, baby. Do that again. Do that sound again, please.”
Jiraiya: VOYEURISM
This doesn't even need explaining. You already know I'm right. He has this big pleasure of lurking behind the door, the sofa, the curtains, enjoying the sight of you touching yourself as if he weren't in the same room.
You usually like to tease him too, smirking devilishly when you hear his low, almost imperceptible groans. Then you'd give him a little gaze over your shoulder. From the glass shower, your back pressed against the cold wall, one leg hitched up, your restless fingers pushing in and out. You'd slow down on purpose, just to hear him whine.
You'd catch his stare behind the bathroom door, one hand stroking his cock lazily, his lip caught between his teeth.
"I wish Jiraiya was here," you moaned, loud.
It didn't take long before he slid under the running water, bending you over, your palms pressed against the glass.
"Mission accomplished. Daddy's here." Then he thrust, hard enough to make you scream.
Silence. Silence snaked its way through the cool, cold air of the shared apartment. Large windows being the only light that peeked through the large living room, the city view a blur with the heavy drops of rain.
Alongside the heavy droplets, your heart. It thumped so hard in your chest, biting your lip out of frustration at the blonde man who said nothing. Nervous eyes watched him take his shoes off by the door, and afterward, shrugging off the dark brown leather jacket. His blue eyes weren’t focused on you- no, the eyes of the clear sky reflecting down onto the waves had one objective.
The white t-shirt clad against his muscular chest, the irritated vein visible even from where you stood- there in the kitchen, next to the island and its stools. The dark washed straight-legged denim pants he wore hugged that toned waist just right, the expensive belt staring down at the floor as he unbuckled it.
“Naruto.” You frown, your fingers had began fiddling with the hem of your skirt- the black skirt that hugged your body so beautifully that it was one of Naruto’s favorite clothing items in your side of the shared walk-in closet. The skirt paired with a color-matching tube top, covered with an off-shoulder mesh poncho that exposed your stomach and the tattoo that rested there. You had taken your boots off, feet flat against the floor.
He was a walking piece of art- your sunshine boy. Even upset, his beauty wasn’t masked. The slight furrow of his brow made him seem calm, collected, but you knew Naruto, and you have for a long time now. He was upset, at you.
The sigh that escaped his lips had been the only sound he’d made since you left the dinner- the dinner that was the catalyst of it all- it made you flinch slightly as your blood ran cold. Even the car ride back was silent.
His eyes flickered over to you, your nervous body, down to your fingers that seemed to be attached to the skirt, right back up to your beating chest. As if he could feel it, the anxiety. It felt so long, yet the gaze was only for a second or three before he started for the bedroom.
“I- Naruto stop being an ass and talk to me!” Your fingers curl against your palms, not even realizing your feet moved. Your forehead rested on the middle of his back, your arms wrapping around his waist as you sighed.
His body stilled, hands tense at his sides.
“Please.. I don’t like when you’re quiet.” It felt off, wrong. The normally loud man who warmed up any room he stepped in, quiet. But you felt the warmth, and you felt the way his body tensed before it eased up, relaxing into the familiar hold of your arms.
“Off.” His voice softened, underneath that softness lay something darker. Naruto’s fingers twitched, another sigh escaping as you hug him tighter.
“Naruto, I’m serious-“
“We’re at home now, ya know. Take it off.”
Off. Not your clothes, not your hands around him, your forehead against his back- no. Off. The scent blocking patch that rested on the nape of your neck, covering the permanent mark bitten into your skin. Your breath hitches, and Naruto feels the thump of your heart.
He wasn’t wrong. You were home, no need for the covering of your scent glands in the comforts of your home. The weight dawns on you. Naruto couldn’t smell you the way he wanted. Your scent was all over, sweet honeysuckle with a hint of warm apple cinnamon, yet the source had it mostly covered, filling the full effect.
Not just the gland, the mark. Covered. The permanent truth of the love you both shared, bound forever, covered.
You shudder, the warmth of his body nulling just as quick as you found it- his body leaving your own down the dark hallway. Your bedroom stood right at the end. Naruto didn’t stop, he twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open. You see the high light of moonlight shining onto the dark red of the comforter set before he turns around.
The nerves all fall down onto one single breath. Eyes of the ocean met yours for a moment, not talking with words, yet you understood everything your alpha had said before shutting the door.
Come to me. Lay with me, and I’ll claim you like I’ve done plenty of times before.
A small whimper leaves your mouth, your hand shakily reach towards the bandage like sticker on your neck. Your feet carried you down that hall just as your trembling fingers rip the cage open. Slick gathered the moment your scent let free to be itself, tangling in the familiar brown sugar scent Naruto carried. And then you opened the door.
The dinner was supposed to be a simple meal with your husband and friends. It was all fine until the waiter unexpectedly started flirting with you, and you just smiled despite not reciprocating. An alpha, you could tell by his scent. Across from you, blue eyes watched quietly, fingers tightening around the fragile glass of the wine cup he’d slowly taken a sip from.
“You’re not,..mated, are you? I’m sorry if that’s rude to ask- it’s just I don’t smell any alpha on you and you’re really beautiful-“
The ocean watched you with slow, deep ragged breaths. Watching the way you fumbled out of your clothes. Watching the way your thighs trembled from the thick scent wrapping around every inch of the room.
Naruto fought down the amusement of a smirk as he ran a hand through the thick blonde locs that already looked disheveled. His cock twitched, resting heavily against his chest, slow beads of pre cum dripping down the red girthy, veiny dark base to the blonde hairs that rested there.
His body sat comfortably against the bedding, head tilting back to rest on the headboard. Watching, observing the way you stood naked, the moonlight illuminating your beautiful skin. Beautiful. You were beautiful in every way Naruto could think of.
He took a small breathe, legs spreading further, watching your eyes trail from the sweat kissing his chest, to the thick hand cupping his balls, his hungry cock twitching in response. Naruto’s scent, so overwhelmingly comforting, sent your body into orbit- your body familiar with the feel of your alpha.
“Why are you just standing there? You know I don’t bite ya know.”
“…You do bite.” You’d murmured back quietly, your feet stopping once it reached the large bed, your knees soaking into the soft yet firm cushion. Soft enough to sleep, firm enough to fuck on. Your pussy throbbed at the thought, the comment being one Naruto had made before giving the store worker his card and paying for it on spot.
You crawled between the space in between his legs, sitting up on your knees as another wave of slick seeped from your pussy. Naruto’s eyes were focused, scanning down your body before they rested on your abdomen.
Something spiked in Naruto’s pheromones, something sharper, more focused on another goal at hand. You shudder as more slick drips from your pussy, coating your thighs.
“A-Are you…still upset?”
“Come here and open your mouth.”
Your pussy flutters, gasping softly, you scoot closer, pressing a hand into the bed as you lean down. Face to face with his achingly hard cock, your pussy exposed to the cold air of the room, back arched.
The ran of sunshine, quiet above you looked down with a small smirk. His hands found that spot behind your neck- the mark that belonged to the both of you, a proof of your eternal love, and gripped.
You gasp, and Naruto took that as an opening to shoving your head down right against his thick leaking tip. “Wider.” He says, the rasp in his voice prominent to the strain. He was holding back, of course Naruto was holding back.
Lips open wider, and the salt musk taste of his cock instantly relaxes you. The omega in you satisfied, not just from your alpha’s pheromones or his cock’s rightful place in your mouth. Your pussy clenched around nothing, the sweet smell of honeysuckle hitting Naruto right in the nose.
“Fuck…you don’t know what you do to me.” He shudders, eyes watching you with an open mouth as the endless inches buried themself into your mouth. Your face was flushed, gaze glossy as you just took it.
Naruto’s grip tightened, the whimper you let out around his cock sent a shiver throughout his body. He held back from the instinctive urge to thrust into your warmth and make you gag. “I’m so fucking upset with you honeybee.” He rasped out.
Honeybee, the nickname he gave you when you first became friends because of your sweet honeysuckle scent.
Each brush of his cock against your tongue sent a shiver down your spine. Every throb of every vein, you felt it. Felt as Naruto’s big cock throbbed in the heat of your mouth, saliva pooling as you sucked like the good omega you were.
The adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed a shallow breath, chest tightening. He could feel how you felt, the connection through the bond shooting through him. Naruto could feel just how much you wanted him to take you right then and there, yet he held back and you knew it.
The salty taste of his pre cum sliding down your throat made you whine, your hips pushing back into the open. Naruto watched everything, a small shuddering breath leaving past those pretty plump lips as he watched the tremble in your body.
Honeysuckle, apple cinnamon and brown sugar. The room spun for a moment in your mind, drowning in the bonded scent that filled your body. Your nipples sensitive and hard, grazing the covers that you suddenly became aware of. Naruto’s voice pushed through, the loud, deep groans that sent a pulse through your body, slick leaking hole throbbing- wanting.
“Fuck-“ Naruto’s hips betrayed him, the thrust unexpectedly gagging you, but you held on, nothing but the urge to please your alpha surged through. “That’s it, that’s my honeybee. Take it like the good omega you are.” My Omega.
Naruto’s mind screamed at him, a slow rhythm of thrusting began, your mark pulsing. And you whined, each brush of his cock wanting so badly to slip further down your throat- the aching brush of your nipples against the covers below, the need to have his cock elsewhere.
“I’m going to fuck you so good,” He whispers, looking down at you through the cloud of lust. The wet sound so obscene, like music to his ears, your whimpers as you choked on his cock. “You want that don’t you honeybee?” The thrusts sped up.
Yes. You wanted it all. Every inch, every drop of cum.
“ You want me flipping you over on your back and pinning your legs so far they reached your ears.”
Your stomach did a flip, tears spilling down your flushed aching cheeks. Instinctively, your hips began rocking. Slick spilled from your pussy into a small, growing puddle beneath you.
“Pounding you with no regards for anything but making sure I knot you until you’re good and bred.”
Good and bred. Knot. You dripped more. Naruto’s cock twitched almost violently inside of your mouth, the thrusts becoming more frantic as he chased his orgasm that was oh so close.
“That what you want, Omega? Filled with my pup?”
Filled. You whined louder, and Naruto moans. His eyes closed for just a second, inhaling your intoxicating scent before the milky ropes spilled over into your mouth. He pulsed and pulsed as your eyes slipped shut, swallowing what you could while the rest slipped down your chin with every small thrust.
He didn’t soften, still hard as he pulled out of your mouth. A white, sticky milky string connected your lips to the twitching tip of his cock. Naruto let’s go of your neck, the finger prints sure to leave some mark behind. It didn’t matter, your senses were screaming at you, begging. You glance up at your alpha who was already staring down at you, watching you take several deep breaths. Eyes dark, pupils dilated.
They watch you as you crawl from the space between him, hands shaking gripping the sheets beneath you. You turn around, leaning into the bed, your pussy on full display for him, hips wide and open. “P-Please Naruto..” You whimper.
You felt the change in the air, the broad man behind you inhaling sharply. Naruto’s hand twitched, cock jumping for joy. He watched as the slick seeped from your hole, open- waiting on him to take you. He growled at the sight, the shuffling from behind you made your senses tingle. You felt the bed dip, Naruto’s knees so close, the warmth of his hands sent out a broken whimper as he grazed the back of your thighs.
“Say that again.” His voice low, thumb riding up to the cute puckering hole of your ass, and down to your folds. His thumb swipes, dipping for just second into your needy hold before it spreads your folds. You moan, head dipping deeper into the covers as your breath quickens.
Heavy breathing- you, alongside Naruto and the loud sudden thunder as the droplets of the rain against the large open windows quickened. Another gush of slick rides down your thigh, and Naruto listened to the small sounds your pussy made, watching the small bubbles and with a territorial smirk of possession. You were his, all of it, Naruto’s.
“Please…” You swallow, laying your head gently on the covers as your glossy eyes stared out the window to the city lights in a distance. “Fuck me alpha.” Your hips pushed back against the lazy thumb that dragged the slick across your pussy lips, gentle brushes against your clit making your body jerk. “Fill me up please. I want your knot. I-I-“
A loud moan is torn from your throat, two fingers slipped into your hole with ease. The pain so small and pleasure filled, Naruto’s thumb pressed against your throbbing clit.
“Again.” He whispers, starting a slow pump of his fingers in and out your delicious hole, fingers soaking wet. “Show me how much you want your alpha’s cock.”
Honeysuckle, apple cinnamon and brown sugar.
Another finger slips in. Your back arches, another half moan broken sob leaving your lips, eyes screwing shut. Brushes against your clit sent you trembling. The curl of Naruto’s fingers pressed against that sweet spot, the one he knew so well. It felt good, but you wanted more.
The more that hung heavily between his legs, hard and twitching as it bobbed between the suffocating space between you two, your slick forming its puddle again.
“Naruto…pl-ease..want it so bad please. Want your knot, want to be full…b-breed me please. Fill me with your pups.”
“…Yeah?” His fingers halted, making you sniffle, eager hips rocking back onto nothing. Naruto brought them to his lips, sucking each and everyone clean, watching as your stretched hole creamed- so wet and so impatiently waiting for what it longed. “Anything else you’d like to say?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. The thick mushroom tip pressed against your welcoming hole, and in one full thrust he filled you completely. The sharp snap in his hips against your ass had you seeing stars for a moment. A wrecked gasp tearing from your body as you gripped the sheets, your eyes watering, your pussy happy- satisfied.
“s—full!”
The thrusts were agonizing. Your vision went white, mouth agape as your pussy fluttered around Naruto’s monster of a cock. Slow, yet your body jolted with each hard snap of his hips as he pressed further into your heat.
The painful stretch of him felt good inside of you, sensitive gummy walls clinging desperately when you felt Naruto go too deep to that spot you craved him to be in. “Satisfied? Hm? It feels good doesn’t it honeybee.” His voice a taunt in your ear, you could hear the grin on his face.
“Y-Yes! So good— right there please Naruto!”
He chuckles, his chest warm against your back as he leans over you, the angle change sent another gush of slick pooling from your pussy. The situation so messy and wet that it had you sensitive all over. Naruto’s canines bared, hovering over the scent glad- your bonded mark, the one he left on you. The warmth sent you shivering, whimpering as the powerful thrusts didn’t stop.
“Doing so goood for me here. What the fuck was that at the restaurant?” He growls, pounding into your squelching cunt. You squealed, lips quivering at the powerful thrusts that satisfied the urges within you over and over and over again.
Naruto’s hand raked your body, the other holding tightly onto your hip as your skin slapped against each other. “Answer me.” He cups your chin, holding your head straight while his face tucked into your neck, sucking softly on the skin.
“I-I..” You whimper at the feeling of his teeth, his nose pressing into your scent gland. “accident…was an accident Naru.” Brown sugar flooded your senses, your eyes fluttered heavily.
The wet below you only grew, the sounds louder, the bed creaked with each slam of the headboard against the wall.
Naruto never stayed mad at you for long, and you knew deep down he wasn’t mad at you. “You’re mine, do you understand me?”
A territorial man he is. Naruto went back to the mark on your neck, planting a soft kiss before running his tongue over the permanent scar.
“Yes!”
“I don’t want anyone else to think otherwise.”
You cry out, your body shutting down at the hard thrust that buried itself deep into you as his knot swelled. Warm strings of cum flooded your womb, your senses on overdrive as Naruto bit down on your mark.
He came with a sharp cry, tasting the slight twang of salt as his teeth sank into your skin, masking the too loud moan that left him as he shuddered, eyes closing. Your pheromones tangled with each other.
Naruto pushed his knot in deeper, your head dropping onto the softness of the bed as the hold on your chin vanished. Darkness overpowered you as your body shook, the harsh wave of your orgasm riding through you.
“I want you to smell of me. I want everyone to understand that you’re mine. Fuck those scent blockers. The whole world will know just how perfect my wife is, how beautiful she smells wrapped in my pheromones carrying our pup.”
His tongue lapped at the mark before kissing it, tilting your head to capture your lips in a kiss. Every inch of movement had you both gasping, the knot throbbing, your stomach full.
“..mm feel you here..” Your hand slips down to the bulge pressing against your tummy. Blue eyes study your face, flushed and happy. The rain continued to patter against the windows.
Naruto chuckles softly, a light blush coating his cheeks as he moved to graze the spot. The slight movement of his cock made you whimper, feeling it twitch against your walls.
“We’ll be like this for a while,” He hums, shifting your bodies carefully so that he wouldn’t hurt your body from his knot. “let’s talk about baby names.”
boyfriend!naruto uzumaki cheering you on at your graduation ꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
as obnoxious as ever!
cw: none! just fluff, art by bleeehrghw
You told him to not get too excited, that you're only taking your diploma and then sitting down. But, how could he not make a big deal out of it? His pretty girl was graduating after five years of being the smartest girl ever, studying hard and passing all your exams. Maybe you didn't graduate cum laude, but for him? You absolutely did.
And if that wasn't enough, you looked gorgeous today. You always do, it doesn't matter what you do or wear, you're always pretty on his eyes. But today you spent a long time doing your hair and makeup, your curls bouncing and shining under your graduation cap. You complimented your makeup with the light green dress you wore and some kitten heels. You were stunning and, most importantly, proud of yourself. Naruto couldn't take his eyes off you while you were waiting to be called, you had the brightest smile ever.
When they finally called your name, the whole auditorium seemed to light up for him.
"YEAH! THAT'S MY GIRL!" Naruto yelled at the top of his lungs, jumping up from his seat. His hands clapped so loud it echoed and he pumped his fist in the air over and over. "GO BABE! YOU DID IT! THAT'S MY SMART GIRLFRIEND RIGHT THERE!"
Your face burned hot as you walked across the stage, trying to keep your steps steady in those kitten heels. Some people chuckled, a few professors raised their eyebrows, but Naruto did not care one bit. He kept shouting, his voice cracking a little from how hard he was cheering. "YOU WORKED SO HARD! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!"
You grabbed your diploma with shaky hands, smiling politely at the dean even though your heart was racing from embarrassment and happiness all mixed together. As you turned to walk back down the steps, you shot Naruto a look that was half "please stop" and half "I love you, idiot." But he just grinned wider, bright blue eyes sparkling.
He did not sit down until you were back in your seat, he was the first and last clap.
When the ceremony is over, he quite literally run to you, hugging you, lifting you and spinning you.
"You were amazing up there!"
"Naruto!" you shouted between laughs, tapping his arm so he put you down. "You're so loud!"
He shrugs and wraps his arm around your waist to plant a kiss in your lips. "My girl's a graduate now. We gotta celebrate big time tonight! Ramen's on me."
You buried your face in your free hand for a second, laughing softly despite yourself. "Naruto, everyone is staring."
"Of course they are, you're the smartest and most beautiful woman here," he said, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, his spiky hair brushed against your cap and his warmth made your cheeks feel even hotter. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. How could I not scream about it?"
The big droplets continued to fall from the darkened sky, hammering against the pavement, against your shoulders, against the door you kept pounding. You knocked again, harder this time, your fist aching from the cold. The rain had soaked through everything — your jacket, your shirt, your skin. You were shivering so badly your teeth chattered, but you wouldn't leave. Not until he answered.
You hated this. Hated the way Sasuke's hollow, emotionless face kept flickering behind your eyes. You were doing this for him. It mattered. You couldn't back down now.
When the door finally swung open, your breath caught in your lungs.
Water dripped from your hair, sliding down your neck, pooling at your collarbones. You probably looked pathetic — drenched, trembling, wide-eyed. You didn't care.
Itachi stood in the doorway, shirtless, his dark hair slightly damp, like he'd just stepped out of the shower. His eyes moved over you slowly — taking in the way your wet shirt clung to your skin, the way you hugged yourself against the cold, the way your lips were blue from shivering. You avoided looking anywhere else but his face. Avoided looking at his bare chest, his athletic arms, the way his sweats hung low on his hips. Definitely avoided that.
And now what? Why were the words that had been building on your tongue refusing to spill out? You could only glare at him, jaw tight, fists clenched at your sides. And to that, the corner of his mouth lifted a little — almost imperceptibly. Like he knew exactly what you were feeling.
His eyes dropped, just for a second, to where your wet shirt clung to your skin. Then back to your face. Like he'd seen everything he needed to see.
He remained in the middle of the door.
"My, my. Look who's here."
That voice. That fucking voice that made your knees weak for reasons you refused to understand. You despised the way he made you feel.
"Don't 'my my' me," you said between your teeth. "What did you say to him? What was it this time, Itachi?"
"To who?" The mocking in his voice wasn't hard to miss.
"You know who I'm talking about. Why are you like this, damn it?"
"He's such a crybaby." He sighed, already fed up with the whole conversation. "He ran to his girlfriend's arms to tell her everything, didn't he?"
His body shifted, leaning his arms on the door frame, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing at the movement. You forced your eyes back to his face.
"I came here just to say one thing, Itachi. Leave him alone."
"And why would I do that, sweetheart?" His voice dropped lower. "Give me a reason."
Hearing his tone — the way he wouldn't back down this easily — weakened your resolve. But you couldn't let your boyfriend down, could you? Even if he was how he was. His cold behavior. The way he only sought you out at night, like you were convenient. The days when you didn't hear from him at all.
"How about you come inside." Itachi stepped aside, gesturing with his head. "Your clothes are drenched. You'll catch pneumonia."
He stepped outside — just enough to take your arm and guide you into the warmth of his house. And only then did you realize how badly you were shaking. The warmth hit you like a wave — the heat of the fireplace, the soft glow of lamps, the scent of cedar and rain. You were freezing to the bone.
You were so confused about this guy. Were you missing something?
He led you into what seemed to be the living room. Then he turned to face you.
"Want some tea?"
You shook your head, hugging yourself, trying to regain some composure. Why was he so kind to you but so cruel to his brother? Why did he look at you like you were precious — but talk about Sasuke like he was nothing?
"Please," you started, your voice quieter than you intended. "Maybe I don't understand the situation between you two. But please — could you leave him alone? It consumes him."
"Why do you care so much, Y/n?" His voice was softer now. "Do you think he would do the same, if the roles were changed?"
"He's my boyfriend."
"He's your boyfriend?" He let out a low, humorless laugh. "That's pathetic. He doesn't even care that much about you. When was the last time he took you on a date? When was the last time he said he loved you?"
"That's not your business," you said, too fast. Too fast — he almost saw through your cracks. The sadness in your soul.
"Don't hide it, sweetheart." He stepped closer. "I already know everything. He's so caught up in himself that you don't matter at all. You're here just as a distraction. When was the last time he actually—"
"Don't you dare." Your voice cracked. "You know nothing about us. So don't pretend as if you do. Okay, smartass?"
He was so surprised by your outburst that it was hard for him to contain his smile. That infuriated you even more.
"You know what? Be as cruel as you want to be — but not with Sasuke, okay? Leave him alone."
You moved to leave.
But his arm caught your wrist. His bare chest met your back. You shivered — unconsciously — at the sudden warmth of him against your cold skin. His other hand locked on your waist. Your heart was restless. Something warm and dangerous settled in your belly. This had to be your imagination, right?
"He doesn't deserve you."
His lips brushed softly against your ear. And the way he said it — so close, so intimate — made your knees buckle.
Why did you feel like this? This whole interaction had been confusing since you arrived. But now you couldn't understand anything. You wanted so badly to press your body into his. You wanted him to touch you. These feelings amplified when his nose breathed in your scent — slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing you.
"If you don't want this, you can go now. Forget this ever happened." His voice was low, steady. "But if you do — turn around. That's the last thing you have to do here."
Inside you, a carousel of emotions was making you dizzy. Why did the second choice seem so tempting? Oh fuck.
Would you regret this? Probably.
Was he right about Sasuke? Again, probably.
The thought sat heavy in your chest, cold and familiar. Sasuke's face flashed behind your eyes — the way he'd looked through you last week, like you were part of the furniture. The way he'd said your name like it was an inconvenience. The way he'd rolled over in bed, turning his back to you, without a single word.
You'd convinced yourself it was normal. That he was just stressed. That he'd come around.
But Itachi's words had cracked something open. He doesn't even care that much about you. You're here just as a distraction.
And the worst part?
You knew it was true.
You wanted this?
The question echoed in your skull, bouncing off the walls of your own doubt. Did you want him? Or did you just want to be wanted? To be seen? To feel like you mattered to someone — even for one night?
You wanted this?
Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. You stepped forward — just one step — and his hands fell to his sides. He wouldn't push you. If that's what you chose, exactly as he said.
The air between you was thick, charged. You could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, could hear the soft rhythm of his breathing. He wasn't moving. Wasn't reaching for you. Just... waiting.
Waiting for you to decide.
Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. Your palms were clammy. Your throat was dry. Every rational thought in your head was screaming at you to leave — to walk out that door, go home, and pretend this never happened.
But your body wouldn't listen.
Because the truth was, you were tired. Tired of feeling invisible. Tired of begging for scraps of affection from someone who couldn't even look at you. Tired of being the only one who fought for a relationship that was already dead.
And Itachi — this Itachi, the one standing in front of you with his dark eyes and patient silence — he made you feel seen.
You wanted to hate him for that.
But you couldn't.
So you turned around.
Slowly.
Your eyes met his. He didn't smile. Didn't gloat. Just watched you with that steady, knowing gaze, like he'd already known what you'd choose before you did.
Your ears were seething. Your eyes darted to the couch behind him, then back to his face. You wanted to run — the guilt spreading through your mind like poison, curling around your ribs, squeezing your chest.
But when he lifted his palms to your cheeks — warm and calloused and there — you forgot everything.
Even the reason why you were here.
"Forget about him," he whispered. His voice was so reassuring that your body went slack, letting your whole weight press into him. "You're so gorgeous."
You don't know who moved first. But then your lips crushed together — desperate, hungry, like you'd both been starving. You let out a little sigh against his mouth, your wet shirt pressing even more firmly against his hot skin. Your arms locked around his neck. The proximity made his palms lower to your hips, his fingers gripping your ass.
"Fuck." His lips left yours, only to nip and lick at your neck. "You drive me insane, sweetheart."
The moans spilled out of you effortlessly, your hands pulling at his long strands, tugging him closer.
You should stop this. You knew you should stop this.
But when his mouth found that spot just below your ear — the one that made your mind go blank — your thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm.
"Tell me you want this." His voice was breathless, rough. "Tell me you want me."
"I—"
"Don't think." He kissed down your throat. "Just feel."
His hands found the hem of your soaked jacket, fingers brushing against your cold skin. He pushed it off your shoulders slowly, letting the wet fabric slide down your arms. It landed on the floor with a soft, heavy thud.
Cold air hit your bare arms, your collarbones, the damp skin of your neck. You shivered — but not from the cold.
You should have felt exposed. Vulnerable.
Instead, you felt seen.
His eyes raked over you — taking in the way your thin shirt clung to your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, the way you were looking at him like he was the only thing in the room.
"You're shaking," he murmured.
"I'm cold," you lied.
His lips curved into that infuriating smirk. "No, you're not."
He was right. You weren't cold. You were burning.
His hands found your waist, guiding you backward until your knees hit the edge of the couch. You sank onto it, pulling him with you. He followed willingly — too willingly, like he'd been waiting for this invitation forever.
His weight settled over you, one knee between your thighs, his chest pressed against yours. The heat of him was overwhelming. Intoxicating.
His lips found yours again — slower this time, deeper. Like he was tasting you. Learning you.
You felt his hand slide down your stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans.
"Can I?" He whispered over your lips, toying with the button. His heavy-lidded eyes made you nod instantly. "I need your words."
"Yes."
He expertly took them off, and at the image of your pink lace panties, he let out a shaky breath. He returned to your lips, kissing you deeper. Your thighs came around his hips, grinding your front against the hard length visible through his sweats.
His breath hitched. His forehead dropped to yours, eyes fluttering closed.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You're going to kill me."
You did it again — slower this time, more deliberate. A quiet, desperate sound escaped his throat.
His hand slid down your stomach, fingers tracing the edge of your lace panties. He didn't push inside. Just felt. The heat of you through the thin fabric. The way your hips twitched toward his hand.
"So wet for me already," he murmured, almost to himself. "And I haven't even touched you yet."
"Then touch me," you whispered.
His eyes met yours — dark, burning, full of something you couldn't name.
"Say my name."
"What?"
"Say it." His thumb pressed gently against your clit through the lace, and you gasped. "I want to hear you say it when I make you fall apart."
"Itachi—"
"Again."
"Itachi." Your voice broke on the second syllable.
His mouth claimed yours, swallowing whatever else you might have said. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. You lifted your hips to help him — eager, desperate, completely gone. Then your shirt followed. Then your bra.
He tossed them aside, his eyes raking over you. Bare. Open. His.
He kissed down your body — your jaw, your throat, the hollow between your collarbones. His lips brushed over the tops of your breasts, then lower, taking each nipple into his mouth, licking, sucking, making you arch into him. Then he continued down — over your stomach, making you shiver.
And then his breath was between your thighs.
You forgot how to think.
His eyes looked up at you, taking in your agonized expression. Then he lowered his head, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He groaned — the sound vibrating directly through you. Your head was mush. Your eyes squeezed shut.
"Look at me, Y/n," he whispered, flicking your bud lightly. "Or I stop."
You forced your eyes open, a small moan escaping you. Once your eyes locked together, he closed his mouth over you, sucking delicately. You didn't know when was the last time you'd been worshiped like this.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the raven strands, while your legs opened wider.
"It feels so good. Fuck." You cried out as his tongue circled over the sensitive spot.
He moved slow. Too slow. Teasing and torturing you. Like he had all the time in the world with you. Like you were the only thing he cared about.
"Itachi — please —"
"Please what?" His voice vibrated against your sensitive skin.
"Please — don't stop —"
He didn't.
His tongue worked you relentlessly — slow, deliberate, consuming. Every flick, every circle, every time he sucked gently at your clit sent shockwaves through you. Your hips bucked against his mouth, but his hands pressed you down, holding you exactly where he wanted you.
"You're so responsive," he murmured against your slick skin. "I love it."
He dipped his tongue inside you, and you cried out, fingers tightening in his hair.
"Itachi — I'm close —"
"Not yet."
He pulled away just enough to make you whimper, then pressed two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly. A lewd moan escaped your throat. His mouth returned to your clit, and you were gone — completely, utterly gone.
You could only let the sounds escape you. Your body was his to ruin. Your eyes rolled back. You could feel how close you were.
His movements grew faster, his fingers pumping you, and then your vision turned white. The orgasm crashed over you. Your hips jerked, grinding harder against his tongue. And he didn't stop.
"That's it. Fuck my face, sweetheart."
He drank every last drop until you were shaking, gasping, begging him to stop.
Only then did he lift his head — lips glistening, eyes dark with hunger.
He crawled up your body slowly, deliberately, pressing soft kisses along your stomach, your ribs, the valley between your breasts. His weight settled over you, his forehead resting against yours.
"You have no idea," he murmured, voice rough and low, "how long I've wanted to taste you."
You couldn't speak. Could barely breathe. Your hands found his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin.
He smiled — that slow, devastating smile — and kissed you.
You tasted yourself on his lips.
Then you pushed him, his back pressing into the couch, and your thighs straddled him. You could feel him — hard, aching, straining against his sweats. You kissed his neck, brushing your fingers over his abs.
"Please," you whispered in his ear. "I need you inside me."
His forehead pressed against yours. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Please —"
He kissed you, deep and consuming, swallowing your words. You lifted slightly as his hands fumbled with the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down just enough.
Then he was there — the head of him pressing against your entrance, teasing, waiting. You ground slowly over his length, feeling every thick vein. He was big. You couldn't take your eyes off the flushed, angry tip.
"Look at me," he whispered.
You forced your eyes up.
"I want to see your face while you take me."
He lifted your hips with one hand, and with the other he guided himself and lowered you slowly — inch by agonizing inch — and you both gasped at the feeling. He was thick. Stretching. Perfect.
"Fuck —" His voice broke, forehead dropping to yours. "Ride me. Please."
You pulled out almost all the way, then sunk back in — deep and slow. Your back arched, your hips moving in circles. All you could think about was the way his cock was filling you so sweetly. Then his mouth was on your breast.
"Look at you," he murmured above one of your nipples. "Riding me so good. So fucking good."
His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, but he let you set the pace. Let you take what you needed. His mouth moved from one breast to the other, tongue circling, teeth grazing, making you shiver.
"You feel so perfect," he breathed against your skin. "Like you were made for this. Made for me."
You moaned in response, hips moving faster, chasing something you couldn't name. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, pressing your chest against his.
"I want to see you fall apart," he whispered. "I want to watch you come on my cock."
His words sent a shockwave through you. Your rhythm faltered, and he took over — thrusting up into you, deep and relentless, hitting that spot that made your vision blur.
"Come for me," he commanded softly. "Let go. I've got you."
He thrust a bit more, and your pussy squeezed so good — milking him. You cried out his name, nails digging into his shoulders, your body shuddering around him.
"Please — let me cum inside you. Please, sweetheart. I need to feel you —"
His voice broke on the last word, and you felt him twitch inside you, barely holding back.
"Do it," you breathed. "Please."
He didn't need to be told twice. His hips snapped up into you — once, twice — and then he was spilling inside you, hot and deep, groaning your name like it was the only word he knew.
You felt every pulse of him, your body still trembling from your own release. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you down against his chest, holding you like you might disappear.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just breathing. Just feeling.
Then he pressed a kiss to your temple, soft and tender.
"You're incredible," he murmured. "Do you know that?"
You didn't answer. Couldn't. Your face was buried in his neck, your heart still pounding.
His hand traced lazy circles on your back.
"I meant what I said," he whispered. "Stay."
You should have said no.
Instead, you pressed closer.
Morning came with grey light and steady rain.
You slipped out of his arms. Found your clothes. Dressed in silence.
He didn't stop you.
But as your hand touched the doorknob, his voice cut through the quiet.
"You'll come back."
You froze.
"You don't know that," you whispered.
"Don't I?"
You turned — just enough to catch his reflection in the window. He was sitting up now, sheet pooled around his waist, watching you with dark, knowing eyes.
"You'll come back," he repeated, "because he'll never give you what I can."
The words hung in the air. Heavy. True.
You opened the door and walked out into the cold morning.
And as the door clicked shut behind you, you knew — knew — that you'd be back.
gracieabrams
theartofmadeline
2087
stormborns
titsay
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