PAIRING gojo/reader
LENGTH 5.102k
RATING explicit, reader discretion advised
CONTENT college au. established relationship. switch tendencies. dirty talk. oral. overstimulation. marking. fingering. sadomasochism. pretty much pwp.
SYNOPSIS after a long, torturous finals week, you decided to unwind with your boyfriend in the best way you knew how—in the comfort of your apartment, with an array of sweet-scented sheet masks and soft cremes that melted into your skin. but god, did he melt into you so much better.
NOTE wrote this over three years ago and i forgot to post on tumblr so here we go lol (i promise i write better now)
LOVE, CASPIAN ☻︎
The pads of his fingers softly pressed into the fabric of the sheet mask, matching its shape more snugly on the curves of your face. He squeezed the bridge of your nose playfully, ensuring the mask would be held in its proper place. You snorted at that, turning your head to the side and rolling your eyes at him, lovingly.
Narrowly, he peered through his own sheet mask, blinking slowly. "Did I do it right?"
"Well," you pulled the mask higher up onto your temple, "you definitely did something."
He pouted wholeheartedly, furrowing his brows as he ran the pads of his fingers over your sheet mask once more, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles that formed when you spoke. "You're fucking evil," Satoru said, "but," he fell back on the bed, now laying next to you, "it definitely suits you."
"Thank you," you said and meant it, "If you didn't think I was evil by now I'd break up with you."
Satoru gasped, his hand on his chest as he feigned heartbreak. He lolled his head unto his shoulder, sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth, and closed his eyes. "Cause of death," he groaned, "future milf."
The both of you broke out into a fit of laughter after that, your torso curving and falling into his chest as you released snorts and wheezes. His arms came to wrap around you, tightly pressing you close to him to feel your body laugh along with your voice—the shake of your arms, the vibrations from your chest to your neck and finally your mouth, the scrunch of your nose and eyes, and everything in between. Satoru preferred to hold every part of you in his arms so that he could feel you in your fullest capacity.
Intensely. He loved you intensely and on purpose and he wanted to hold you for a long time. As long as you would allow him to.
Your laughter died but the happiness still hung from your cheeks, pressed against the skin of his neck that smelled faintly of cleanser and wet hair. You carefully flopped to his side, adjusting your sheet mask in its proper place again.
He breathed evenly; wholly as he relished in the heat that you shared where your sides met and refused to distinguish themselves, melting into each other and overlapping and combing together softly; beautifully, in the same way a hug could reach further than skin deep. He thought and continued to think: "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you"—and it never came out that way exactly except for when it did, but in a multitude of forms that felt natural, too.
Draping his heavy arm over your stomach, you released a harsh breath at the sudden weight. "Fucker," you slapped his wrist, "that hurt."
"Really?" he hummed, pulling his arm back slightly to splay his hand over your shirt. "I just wanted to touch you again." Satoru took the fabric between his thumb and pointer finger, absentmindedly fiddling with the single layer between him and you. "And this shirt's kinda ugly," he said, "don't you think?"
You sighed and close your eyes, patting the apples of your cheeks to absorb more of the mask's contents. "That's why I'm wearing it as pajamas," you said right back, "dumbass."
"I was trying to be smooth and say some shit like 'it's ugly because it's not my shirt'," Satoru continued to play with it, "but no, I guess not."
You groaned playfully, moving your arm to drum your fingers against his knuckles. "If you hate it so much," you paused, "take it off."
The lilt in your voice sent a chill up his spine, the blush blooming on his features luckily hidden. Satoru sat up, his eyelids suddenly heavy and blinks slower as he watched you breathe, your eyes now screwed shut in anticipation. He peeled off his mask, abandoning it in the trash can beside the bed, slipping his warm hand under the blasphemous shirt that, allegedly, he hated so much.
Hearing your lungs stutter at the contact, Satoru drew circles on your waist, then underneath your breasts, his nail the pen, and your body a map he was more than eager to annotate. He held your sides and motioned you to sit up, and you obeyed, your eyes still closed.
His finger gently tilted your chin up, pulling off the mask on your face as it met a similar fate to his. Satoru examined your expression, blowing a puff of air in your face to watch your eyelids flutter. "Look at me," he said, holding your jaw square between his fingers. "You want me to," he trailed off, "what?"
"Take off my shirt," you said, your voice firm but not as loud as you thought it would come out.
He clicked his tongue. "Open your eyes."
As your eyes opened, Satoru leaned in to meet your lips in a soft kiss, his hand snaking up your neck to hold your jaw. His thumb touched your cheek and brushed your skin, begging you to kiss him harder. There, in his hand, he held you again, tasting your mouth in his and it felt as if he wanted so much; too much. He wondered if his selfishness would cause him to swallow you whole, but you were arguably, just as selfish as him.
You sucked harshly on his lower lip, your sigh into the kiss dangerously close to a moan. Satoru remained insistent of tasting you directly on his mouth, your lips parting and inviting his tongue. He could kiss you all too well, sucking the flesh and sloppily mixing his saliva with yours in a hungry exchange that could make you blush at the thought.
"I-I'm so hard," he stuttered into your teeth, moving his hands down to your sides to pushing you down onto the bed. "You make me so fucking hard so fucking fast," Satoru caught his breath while stealing yours, "I fucking love you."
Smiling as he placed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, your face contorted in pleasure as he bit on the sensitive skin there. "Dumbass," you said, the word cut short as he toyed with your nipples over your shirt. "My dumbass." Your thighs twitched as he pulled up your tee over your head, leaving you in your underwear and exposing the skin he loved so much.
Satoru kneaded your breasts between his fingers and in his calloused palm, leaving hickeys down your torso and paying special attention to your hips that twitched upon contact. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice strained as he continued to touch you everywhere except where you needed him, "you're so quiet." He nipped at your waist particularly hard, "It's pathetic."
Your cheeks heated up at the insinuation, your lips not only swollen from his earlier assault but from your own biting to keep yourself from being embarrassingly loud. So why did him accusing you of silence make you even more embarrassed?
"Trying to act shy with me," Satoru said, "you want me to fuck you stupid, don't you?"
Your face burned with shame so badly you felt as if it might scar. "I-I'm not acting shy," you defended yourself, "you're just—!" Racking your brain for an excuse, your mind went blank as he sucked on your skin and pinched your nipples harshly. "Not fucking me good enough!" you blurted out, realizing too late the damage done.
"Oh," Satoru rose from his place between your legs, moving up the bed to sit against the headrest. "Really?" He laughed, tongue in cheek as he palmed himself through his pants. "Try talking shit," Satoru slapped your breast, "when you're choking on my cock."
Settling between his legs, his boxers left the muscle of his thighs bare, your hands finding purpose there as you eyed his bulge.
Satoru grabbed you by the chin, smirking down at you, his sweetheart so prettily situated in front of his lap. "Acting shy," he scoffed, "even while drooling over my dick."
Your hands inched inside his bottoms, your finger swiping the head of his cock and causing him to groan lowly. "Not so bitchy with my hand around you, huh?" Pumping his member in your palm gently, his hips bucked forward and he shut his eyes, mouth falling open at the minimal satisfaction you provided. "Imagining you're fucking me, aren't you?" you said. "God, what a fucking pervert," you tightened your grip, "so desperate for me, yeah?"
"So what if I am?" he slurred his words together, slowly fucking into your hand. "I bet you're so wet," his voice shook slightly, "I could stuff you full right n—oh, shit."
Your mouth enveloped him roughly, the tip hitting the back of your throat as you fought your gag reflex. Cockwarming him in your mouth, Satoru groaned as your throat spasmed around him. To tease him further, you swallowed, knowing how taut the feeling would be around him. At the action, his moaning morphed into an impatient curse, quickly entangling a hand in your hair and pulling your head up as he began fucking into your mouth.
Your eyes welled up as he repeatedly abused your throat, brutally forcing you to take him until your nose touched his pelvis and you choked on his cock. Looking up at him with tears in your eyes, you found his expression godly—furrowed brows, teeth gritted, jaw tensed, and eyes fluttering as he focused on the warm sensation of your lewd gagging. Foaming spit gathered at the corner of your mouth, dripping down your jaw and causing a sticky mess down your neck that bulged with his dick print.
Seemingly amused at your helplessness, he pulled your hair at an angle, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Fucking your mouth feels so good," Satoru said, continuing to fuck your face with a playful smirk. "Almost forgot how much of a brat you are."
Your nails dug into the ripe muscle of his thighs, the skin stretching over your knuckles lightening under your deadly grip. With your jaw growing sore, your throat sporadically tightened and loosened; the bodily reaction sending heavenly waves of sexual satisfaction through his nerves. His thighs twitched more often and his breathing grew heavier—tell-tale signs of his impending orgasm.
Just as he stiffened, ready to cum, you fought out of his grip and released his cock from your mouth, strings of saliva and precum the only link between you and him.
"Baby," you said while wiping your mouth, "you're so predictable."
His hand came around your throat and put pressure there, holding your head up but his strength wavered, still weak and vulnerable from the suffocating need to cum. "For fuck's sake," Satoru hissed through his teeth, "you're going to hell for that."
"Well," you licked your lips, "I hope you can make me cum before I get there." A tinge of lightheadedness caused your vision to dim, but riling him further always resulted in a good fuck. And who are you to waste an opportunity like that?
Despite your mocking, never had Satoru failed to make you cum. In fact, he could make you cum so much that you would be sensitive for a week and walk with a limp for a few days at least. He prided himself in that; after all, it was the thing he looked forward to so often. The expression on your face and the cry in your voice, body shaking as an onslaught of pleasure overwhelmed your senses—was all his doing! And you just looked so pretty whenever you came. Like his little angel whose divinity remained in the glow of your eyes and the blush on your cheeks, immorally sticking your tongue out and blabbering a plethora of swears. His own sinful paradox that he loved oh so very much.
Meeting your lips in a kiss, much sloppier than before, Satoru rid himself of his own tee, having you straddle his lap as your moundful chest pressed against his. He licked the spit that smeared your neck, gladly lapping it up as you rolled your hips against him, the first brush of your clothed sex against his cock dragging a guttural growl from him.
"I'll get you back so nice for that," his words more a promise than a threat. His fingers clasped your waist and Satoru kissed your ear before whispering into it. "So sit on my face," he cooed, pressing another kiss to reiterate his command. "Sweetheart."
Your heartbeat increased tenfold, almost shuddering in his lap at the thought.
At your hesitation, Satoru immediately found your mouth and put it on his, holding the back of your head to deepen the kiss. He pulled away and tilted his head, staring at you. "You really think I can't handle it?"
You scoffed, not answering his question out of embarrassment.
"I think," Satoru muttered, lifting your hips so he could move downward. "I deserve a facial," he said, looking much cuter beneath you. "Self-care."
His head remained between your thighs, your knees on either side. Satoru eyed the wet spot on your underwear and nearly cursed aloud, the scent alone enough to make his mouth water because he knew you tasted just as good as you smelled. Your hand pulled the fabric of your panties to the side, his hot breath fanning over your wet folds and causing your sex to twitch around nothing at all—something he was keen enough to notice.
"Pretty little cunt," he praised, swiping his tongue over his teeth. "All fucking drenched and dripping," Satoru wrapped his arms around your thighs and forced you down on his face, his words lost between your legs and drowned out by the obscene gush of his tongue in your hole.
You whimpered without meaning to, tucking your head into your neck as you scrunched your eyes shut at the sudden intrusion. He mercilessly ate you out, the flat of his tongue repeatedly flicking over your clit and slurping the juices that dripped from you, his moans vibrating against your sex. Satoru couldn't help but be loud whenever he devoured you, knowing the effect it had: an intense blush crossed your features and your thighs tried to push together, holding back your whines by biting your lip.
Already flustered, your eyes remained screwed shut, unsure if you could handle watching your boyfriend lapping at your cunt as if it was his only purpose of living. "S-Satoru," you let out, "fuck, fuck, fuck—!" Your thighs began to shake, your breathing growing ragged and your mouth dropping open to silently gasp, "So, so close!"
He hummed into your sex, already aware. Satoru sucked and savored your unforgettable flavor, not wanting to waste a droplet of your wetness. "Cum on my face," the command clear despite being muffled by your weight, "come on, cum, cum—"
You cried out and fisted the pillowcases below you, your eyes snapping open and rolling back at the deluge of euphoria that coursed through every vein and smoothed over every bone. "Oh fuck," you puffed out, "ow, fuck." Your high died down after a while, your eyes blinking tiredly as the pleasure never ceased and turned tortuous from sensitivity.
Continuing to eat you out even after you came, Satoru smirked into your sex, your brain finally recognizing the overstimulation. Your hips tried to move away from his mouth, but his arms flexed and kept you in place.
"S-Satoru—t-too much," you drawled out, finding his hair and entangling your fingers in the tresses. "Too much, too, too much—!"
At your whining, he decided to eat you like his last supper. His lips brushed your clit and his tongue relentlessly pushed past your folds and inside you, your poor pussy spasming and squeezing so much that you could feel your release building again.
Satoru groaned as you pulled his hair, the action spurring him on rather than deterring him. "Look down," he murmured, "look at me."
He saw your eyes welling up again, your irises glassy as your lust-blown pupils gazed down at him. Your lips parted to speak but no proper words came out, cries suspiciously close to his name leaving instead.
"Cum for me again?" Satoru asked, locking with your eyes and analyzing your every detail.
Your head nodded weakly, your mouth drooling from keeping it open for so long.
"Say it," he said, his grip on your thighs rougher than before, "beg."
Breathing out shakily, your voice came out pathetically, any train of thought clouded by the looming wish to finish once more. "Wanna cum again," you said while mindlessly massaging his scalp. "I-I—so close," you breathed in and out quickly, slightly lightheaded as you chased the sensation of his tongue.
As much as he loved you on display for him, Satoru couldn't miss an opportunity to be a shameless display himself, and so he rolled his eyes back and gutturally groaned beneath you, his mouth open wide as a mix of your juices and his drool gathered on his lips. He felt the sporadic tense of your legs and clench of your hole against him, his fingers instinctively into digging your skin to press your weight on his tongue, immersing himself in your sex.
Satoru curved his wrist and slapped your ass, massaging the flesh as it flushed red. "Not good enough," he mumbled into your folds, "sweetheart." He chuckled into your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive nerves and causing you to violently twitch on his face at the feeling.
You whined again, fisting his hair and panting out your desperate need to cum and for him to allow you. "P-Please, Satoru, pl-please—" you squeezed your thighs but his arms kept your legs apart, "wanna cum, wanna cum on your pretty face—!"
He swiped the flat on his tongue through your folds roughly, stopping to suck directly on your clit. "Cum on my pretty fucking face," Satoru teased, his hands finding purpose on your waist to squeeze and hold you tight against him. The grip of his fingers was harsh enough to bruise, guiding your hips as you rolled mindlessly on his face.
A searing heat in your stomach felt hot enough to burn you from the inside out, your legs convulsing at the side of his head and your upper half slouching inward at the bliss that consumed your senses. His name poured out of your mouth repeatedly, your voice breaking and cracking under the pressure of your orgasm. Satoru held you up, your body collapsing against the headboard and nearly panting as you gathered your sanity—or at least, the remains of it.
You moved and he shifted, sitting back up as his puffed lips glistened with your juices, a droplet on the tip of his nose and chin evidence of your indecency. His tongue parted his lips and he sighed, happily trying to gather what was left on his face; savoring the flavor. Satoru stared at you and swiped two fingers across his chin, bringing them to your mouth and silently commanding you to suck.
Leaning forward, you tasted yourself on his fingers, hollowing your cheeks to swallow his digits in the heat of your mouth.
"You're so fucking—god," he pulled them out of your mouth and grabbed your jaw, pulling you towards his face. "So much better than beating my dick to the thought of you."
You rolled your eyes, pressing your lips against his in a messy kiss. "I'd like to see that," you whispered into his ear, your hands grazing his chest and then forcing his back against the pillows. "Sweetheart."
Satoru shuddered under your touch, his hand coming between your bodies to wrap around his dick, pumping gently. His thumb rubbing over the head, running between the slit as his other fingers squeezed the bulging veins. You sat on his thighs, running your nails over the sensitive parts of his neck, gentle red stripes drawn onto his pulse points down to his collar bones.
"This sucks," he complained, despite the airiness in his voice. "Your pussy," Satoru breathed in and then out, "is so much better than my hand."
"I know, baby," you said, feathering a kiss on his chest, "I know."
Precum leaked from his tip, slicking his member as his hand sped up. Satoru accidentally bucked his hips, his eyes hazy as your kisses turned into sloppy marking, sucking on his skin to create love bites that purpled with time. He growled when your teeth grazed his nipple, his hips bucking more often as you toyed with him.
Your hand reached down to cup his balls, Satoru sucking in air through his teeth and whimpering your name. Fondling them in your hand, you met his gaze to examine his expression, falling in love with the way his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched, Satoru's signature smirk lighting up his features as he locked eyes with you. His hand jerked quickly, the unmistakable twitch of his thighs signaling that he was close.
"It'd be a shame if you came so fast," you said softly, your hand reaching his face and your thumb caressing his flushed cheek. "All over your stomach instead of in me."
His eyes widened at your words, his teeth gritting as he fought the urge to cum. God, did he love finishing inside you. Satoru preferred your pussy full of his seed, so stuffed and so his—truly a shame to finish now; a waste! His body rejected him as he slowed his hand, the ache enough to make his head spin.
Satoru edged himself as you giggled on his lap, praising him for his self control. Which, if he was being honest, was very thin to begin with. As someone who usually indulged themselves, Satoru found your stubborn need to torture him hot in all aspects, but he found it equally if not more enjoyable if he tortured you. After all, he did think you were prettier than him. But he would never say that to your face—he was too prideful for that. So he figured that fucking you until you confessed every sin was the only way to show his appreciation. Respectfully.
He blinked slowly, tongue in cheek as you watched him with faux innocence. "You're right," Satoru concurred, "but you think with your cunt more than your brain sometimes, you know?" His harsh tone cut through the air and he noticed your soft shudder, something anyone else would have missed due to its subtlety. "But it suits you," he said, his eyes tracing the lines of your body, somehow stripping you further despite your present nakedness. "My good girl."
Your breath hitched in your throat at the familiar pet name—one that Satoru seldom used considering you behaved more like a brat most of the time. Nodding slowly, you wanted to hear him praise you again, again, and again, your ears eagerly searching for his voice.
"Your good girl," you repeated, staring up at him as you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck.
His hands found your lower back and rubbed gentle circles, Satoru breathing evenly against your ear. "You're so tense," he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss against your earlobe. "Can you fucking relax so I can fuck you sooner?" Satoru snapped while giving your ass a slap, pushing your hips against his to rub his cock against your folds.
You whimpered at the sudden stimulation, biting his shoulder in a pathetic attempt to muffle your cry and appease his command. Twitching, your hips gave you away, Satoru clicking his tongue at your graceful fall toward disgrace.
He moved his hand to cup your pussy, his fingers and palm meeting the sticky mess between your thighs and pressing roughly against your mound. "Maybe good girl wasn't the right term," his teeth bit your ear and he hummed, as if asking for an answer from you. "So needy for cock you're shivering just thinking about it," he mocked you as his middle and ring finger pushed past your folds, sucked into your heat and swallowed by your walls. "Mhm," Satoru praised politely, "good?"
"S-So good," you said, clenching around his fingers. Your eyes blurred for a moment, lost in the feeling of his digits as they searched for the sweet spot in your pussy, wetness gushing past his knuckles and covering his hand in a sheen of arousal.
Curling his fingers inside and stroking the spongy wall in your cunt, your eyes crossed and you felt him chuckle above you, kissing the top of your head as he repeated the motion, hitting your sweet spot over and over.
You felt apart in his arms, Satoru whispering words of dirty admiration that pulled you closer to the edge until he dangled you there, slowing his hand to refocus your attention on his voice.
Satoru groaned himself, his dick strained against his stomach and the head weeping with precum. "That's e-fucking-nough," he growled, moving you so that your back pressed against his chest and your legs spread with his hands on your thighs, completely helpless as he had you on display for him and him alone.
Your head lolled over onto your shoulder, his chin on the other as he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip grazing your folds. He pulled your legs up, forcing your face toward your cunt as his mouth hung open in anticipation. Satoru hummed in satisfaction at his work, looking forward and hungrily staring at the reflection in the mirror across your bed, adoring the way your eyes diverted away from the lewd image.
He kissed your temple, as gentle as he could. "Tell me you want me."
"Want you," you said, leaning into his touch, "want you—fuck!"
Stuffing himself in your cunt, he fucked you slowly for the first few thrusts, your name and cuss words interspersed as his senses drowned in the suffocating warmth of your hole. Satoru then sped up his pace, your legs limp as he pulled them against his chest and his cock disappeared inside of you, snapping his hips rough enough to bruise your insides.
Satoru loved watching you succumb to his very own heavenly hell, preening over the dazed expression on your beautiful face. Drool leaked from the corners of your lips and gathered on the tip of your tongue, strings of saliva connecting your teeth as you gasped in absolute reverie, your eyes fluttering as your lust-blown pupils stared into the mirror. The violent flush on your face spread to your neck and chest, your stomach bulging with his cock as he slipped in and out of your welcoming cunt. Words broke off into moans and his name fell from your tongue in a cosmic cry that he would adore until the day he died.
"My pretty little fuck toy," he rasped, your pussy clenching at the pet name and squeezing his cock. "Touch yourself for me," Satoru said, "rub that clit," he saw your arm move weakly between your thighs, a smile grazing his features as you listened to him. "Mhm," he nodded as he fucked you further, "love seeing my good girl play with their pretty pussy."
Flames spread over your skin as you burned with bliss, crackling under his praise that you would live and die for. "Breed me," you slurred out, "breed me so full, Toru, please—!"
The act of sex suddenly became more primal; to fulfill the carnal desire to have you full of his seed; to claim your insides and carve them into the shape of his cock. And you craved nothing more than exactly that: to have him in his entirety stuffing your pussy until his name is the only one you can remember.
Satoru released his hands from your thighs and flipped you over, his hand pressing against your back to arch your ass up. "Hands," he said, using his fingers as handcuffs around your wrists, pinning them behind you. "Sweetheart," Satoru pushed his dick inside you once more, hovering over you to wrap his forearm around your neck, brutally curving your back and deepening his thrusts inside your walls. "Slutty baby," he hissed into your ear, "gonna cum inside you and you're gonna love it, yeah?"
You choked on your words but nodded in case the message wasn't clear. Satoru tightened the pressure on your neck, black spots dotting your vision but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, your need to cum and for him to cum in you more important.
His fingers parted your lips, tilting your head back as your mouth hung open. "So fucking tight," Satoru gritted out, "god, you're gonna be the death of me, fuck—!" His hips stuttered and he felt incredibly close to cumming, his impending release hanging on strings of sanity as Satoru longed to hear you cry out for him. "Say you want it," he said gruffly, "say you want my cum."
"Wanna be stuffed," you drawled out with his fingers still in your mouth, "cum inside me, cum in me, Toru—!"
Satoru shuddered on top of you as his cock spurted inside of your cunt, your walls greedily covered in white ropes of his seed. He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, reaching to rub your clit as you came soon after him, the sight between your legs so goddamn messy that he almost came again just from looking at you.
He pulled out and pressed his fingers against your hole, causing you to twitch with oversensitivity. "Wouldn't wanna waste a drop of cum," Satoru said tactfully, gently fingering his seed inside you, "I worked so hard to get it there."
"Fuck you," you said, scrunching your eyes as you buried your face into a pillow.
"That's what just happened," he said dryly, "dumbass."
He was gentle and made sure to clean you up thoroughly after, pressing kisses all over your skin as he gave you his shirt to wear this time. Satoru returned from the bathroom to see you dozing off in the very bed he fucked you in, peaceful and as lovable as could be. Clad in his boxers, he crawled into bed with you, insisting that he would be the little spoon as you groggily wrapped your arms around him.
He snuggled into your touch, and you briefly forgot that this was the same Satoru that pinned you down and forced you to take his cock, but you were too sleepy to think any harder. And apparently, so was he, already snoring in your arms.
car therapy — WORK IN PROGRESS
PAIRING geto/gojo/reader | LENGTH ??? | RATING explicit
SYNOPSIS complaining after another lame one-night-stand to your two best friends, they decide to treat you to a late night fast food run. but they aren't exactly hungry—for fries and nuggets, to say the least.
SYNOPSIS after a long, torturous finals week, you decided to unwind with your boyfriend, satoru gojou in the best way you knew how—in the comfort of your apartment, with an array of sweet-scented sheet masks and soft cremes that melted into your skin. but god, did he melt into you so much better.
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