#what does this fall onto... doomed straight..?

[zallosaurus]

bonus lololol

[shawtuzi]

BABY ARE U HOME? ft. suguru geto

a/n: genuinely don’t know what this is

synopsis: suguru learns shibari w/ the waitress he befriended at waffle house . . . LMFAOOOO

cw include: black fem!reader, porn with LOTS of plot, pretty cute n fluffy in most parts, sorta strangers to friends to lovers typa situation, lots of sexual tension, drug usage (weed), mentions of masturbation, SHIBARIIIIII (for learning purposes and sexual ones hehe), nasty kisses, fingering, oral f!receiving, abrupt ending bc tumblr is LAMEEEE// wc: 28k (longest fic to date >.<)

SATURDAY 2:17 A.M.

“back again already, huh? i’m startin’ to think you might have a crush on me.”

suguru briefly stopped in his tracks, a sly smile curling its way onto his lips. “oh yes, i’m afraid i can no longer get a good nights rest anymore unless i visit my favorite waitress! you’ve got me!”

his tall, broad form slumped against the sturdy counter, and his head tilted back dramatically, allowing his long, black hair to fall prettily off his shoulders, and graze over the counter. “the impending doom will only continue unless she makes me my favorite meal . .”

and then he peaked an eye open, his smile growing wider.

you gave him a smile that matched his own, but yours was a littleeee more on the mischievous side. might as well give him a little trouble since you’re in the mood!

suddenly your smile was replaced with a look of faux annoyance. “ugh, you know kev is gonna skewer me if i have him make that shit again. it’s not even a real menu item!”

the meal in question was a large serving of shredded hash browns, two fried eggs, and five strips of bacon allll served up between two phat ass chocolate chip waffles. the perfect breakfast sandwich.

he saw you eating the monstrosity one time during the end of your shift, and ever since then, he’s requested it with a side of orange juice n’ water.

technically, you weren’t even supposed to be making that kinda stuff for yourself, let alone a customer, but who really gives a shit when it’s the graveyard shift? especially when the customer was as cute as suguru.

“bullshit,” he chuckled, now standing straight. a screeching sound echoed throughout the empty restaurant only briefly before he took a seat, his glossy eyes never once leaving yours. “kev actually likes me, and will make me anything i want. you wanna know why?”

“not reallyyy.”

you both burst into a fit of giggles before he continued.

“because i distract you from bothering him. not that i mind, though. you’re pretty good company.” he smiled at you again, and it was only now that you realized he actually had very pretty teeth to go with his even prettier lips.

the small beauty mark on the left side of his top lip always caught your attention.

your nails, all pink and covered with chunky, silver charms, tapped against the counter. “that’s gotta be a lie, sugu. kev loves when i bother him. in fact, he loves it sooooo much that he’s taking an hour long smoke break because we’ve been having so much fun.”

sugu.

that was new. he liked it.

he propped his chin on his hand, dark lashes fluttering gently. “the same kev that you just said would skewer you . . is the same one you were just having soooo much fun with? so much fun that he had to run away n’ take a smoke break?”

it was silent for a few beats, and then your lips smacked together making an mmcht sound.

“whateverrrrr. you’re lucky i’ve mastered making it or else i’d make you interrupt his break, and ask for it,” you muttered, undoing the knot in your apron so you could make it tighter. “and we’re outta orange juice, so it’ll have to be apple tonight, sir.”

soon the smell of grease and bacon began to fill the space. as you bustled around to cook up the bacon and eggs, suguru just watched with hooded eyes, and a small smirk.

“so, how does a waffle house of all places run out of orange juice?” he snickered.

you let out a small hum, and flipped the bacon over, internally cringing at the scraping noise the spatula made against the grill. “look, babe, i just work here, m’kay? now how runny do you want these eggs?”

there was silence for a few beats, but only because he was too busy admiring your hair. it was straightened, and pulled into a half up, half down situation with the ends bumped. it was very cute. very you.

“you better hurry before they’re not runny at alllll,” you singsonged, whipping your head around to see what the holdup was. a breath caught in your throat when you realized he was already staring, and very hard at that.

dark brows raised in amusement, as his smirk widened. “i don’t like my eggs runny at all, sweetheart. remember?. . i like your hair by the way. very pretty.”

“mm, thank you. my girl was able to squeeze me in, and do it right before i came in for my shift. i thought we would’ve been matching since your hair is always like this, but i see you wanted it down tonight.” you threw him a quick grin over your shoulder, and turned back to his eggs with a slight heat in your cheeks.

in the five times suguru has come in during your shift, you’ve never seen his hair completely down. it was always up in a bun or half up-half down. you never quite understood why, but then again you tried not to think too hard about it because you didn’t even know the man.

“i . . i think you should have it down like that more often.”

the second you said those words to him, you wish you hadn’t, simply because you feared you sounded too flirty—but to your surprise, he seemed very amused.

“i get that a lot, but it’s just always in my face. especially when i’m doing important things—”

and then you dropped the fucking spatula with the loudest clang! known to man.

“my goodness—m’sorry about that,” you nervously chuckled, swiftly picking up the spatula with a huff. “i’m always droppin’ stuff. that’s why i stay outta this space . . too clumsy.”

suguru listened to every bit of your rambling, his pupils widening almost like a curious kitten. his eyes trailed from the apples of your cheeks, to your cupids bow, and down to the bruises on your wrists—wait . . bruises??

they were faint, but it was obvious.

“been tied up recently?” there was slightly humor in his tone, but mostly pure curiosity.

the sound of hash browns sizzling was almost deafening. you didn’t say anything at first, and then you turned around with this . . look on your face.

“why do you ask?”

you weren’t denying it, which means you must’ve not minded talking about it, but for what reason could you possibly have rope-like bruises on your wrists for?

suddenly, his heart began to pick up a little in pace, and he wasn’t sure why.

“did you . . did you do that yourself? . . .”

oh geez.

your head fell forward in a sigh, and this confused him even more. “uh—um, you know if you ever need any help you can always—”

“woahhhh, woah, woah! hang on there, sir,” you interrupted, quickly shaking your head back and forth. “these were an accident caused by yours truly from a couple days ago. i was taking this class, and my partner ended up tying the ropes a little too hard around my wrists, see?”

now he was even more confused. what the fuck kinda class were you taking?

“okay . . i mean, i guess it’s good to know no one hurt you purposefully. but what kinda class involves tying rope around your wrists? you in boy scouts or somethin’?”

“no, silly. i don’t know if i should tell you, though. not very appropriate for work if you get what i mean, yes?”

confusion was still written all over his face. he genuinely had no idea what were talking about.

“have you ever heard of shibari?”

“hmm?”

“shibari,” you said with more base in your tone than you intended to. “it’s a form of, um, bondage. j-japanese bondage, actually.”

then, your back was turned to him as you poured a batter filled with chocolate chips into a waffle maker. you glanced at him over your shoulder, and not very surprisingly, he was fully invested, leaning forward with his arms folded over one another.

“go on . .”

this made you a little excited. it wasn’t very often you got to explain the art that was shibari. to others, it was seen as taboo . . purely sexual . . and although there was a sexual nature behind it, there was also something so incredibly intimate, and beautiful about the entire thing.

the idea of putting your trust entirely into another person, and being at their mercy excited you. unfortunately for you though, you have yet to find a partner of sorts that you could practice with full time.

all you had was your beginners class that was every thursday from one to two pm. and your partner was usually never the same person—simply because most people underestimate the intensity that comes with either binding someone, or being the that’s bound and helpless.

“umm, well, what do you wanna know?”

suguru tongued at the inside of his cheek, his pointer finger tracing random shapes along the counter. “well, you say it’s bondage, so it’s for sex presume?”

“ah, i-it can be practiced for sex, but i think it teaches you a few other things—especially if you’re the one being . . . restrained.” the last bit of your sentence came out shaky and strained. you couldn’t believe you were actually discussing this with him.

you kept looking back to see any kind of discomfort or disgust on his face, but all you were met with was a blank, yet curious stare.

the dark haired mans head tilted slightly to the side, “what kinda things does it teach you? i-if you don’t mind me asking, of course,” he chuckled, purple eyes softening to bring you some sort of comfort. after all, he was a stranger, and this was a rather . . lewd conversation.

“mm, you sure you’re okay with me talking about it? might get a little graphic the more i explain, and i don’t need to be sued over nothin’,” you grinned with slight humor in your tone.

suguru matched your smile, chin now resting on his palm. “i could never sue the girl who put me onto the yummiest sandwich i’ve ever eaten—and, i am japanese after all . . would love to know more about somethin’ that originated in my country.”

“hmm, fair point. okay, sugu, i’ll tell you. just lemme finish whipping up this heart attack between two waffles for you.”

you never really thought about it until now, but suguru actually had one of the most attractive laughs you’ve ever heard—if that makes sense?

it was deep, but there was also a certain lightheartedness about it that made your heart flutter.

“now this class . .” he muttered, eyes brightening just a bit when you placed the plate of food in front of him. “do you guys, um, practice fully clotheddd, or is this a nude type of deal . . ?”

“fullyyyy clothed, silly. there’s quite a few older men n’ women, but it’s not, like, weird you know? we’re all here for the same thing, and that’s it! no awkwardness. the instructor is old as hell, though. he’s in his sixties, i believe.”

your words had geto pause mid bite, his thick brows nearly raising to the ceiling. “wait, wait,” he spoke lowly, words slightly muffled from a mouthful of food. “first of all; this shit is magnificent—second of all; your instructor is that old? that guys old enough to be my grandpa!”

“woah, woahhh—not too much on him! this guy is like a legend in the shibari world. i did my research on him, and his work is beautiful . . he treats each knot with such care n’ precision.“

mr. kinoko was the best of the best, and despite however old he may be, he knew how to tie some dang rope into the most beautiful, intricate knots you’ve ever seen.

during your third class, you had the honor of being a demonstration, and the old man did not hold back on you. which you were grateful for!

that afternoon, he demonstrated how to do a spiral futomomo and fishnets on you—and just for the fun of it, and because you were so willing, he had your hands bound in a prayer tie. it was so interesting watching the man loop and weave the ropes around you like it was second nature.

if only your partners weren’t such scaredy cats.

you could sense their hesitation and nervousness as they looped the cotton ropes over your skin, careful not to do it too tight, and cause you discomfort—even though they were literally the simplest of suspensions, such as a heel tie weave or a frog tie.

“it’s like an art, honestly. think of the person tying the rope as the paintbrush, and then the submissive as the canvas. the different positions, and styles are endless.”

by the time you finished speaking, you were nearly leaning over the entire counter with an excited look in your eyes. those speckles of brown he was so used to seeing were now taken over by your pupils.

after a few beats, suguru swallowed his food with a gulp. “that’s—that’s really interesting, ( ❤︎⁠ ). and this mr. kinoko . . he’s able to do all of that . . even with his old man hands?”

a humorous, but serious question.

“ughhh! yes, sugu. even with his old man hands, he’s able to create different knots and patterns that you couldn’t even fathom.”

this next part caught him a little by surprise.

“you wanna see some pics? f-from the class, i mean. he offered to take some pictures for this account i have, and i said yes, of course.” you were already waving your phone around, a shy smile curling at the corners of your lips.

in an act of rambling, you accidentally revealed to the older man that you had a twitter page dedicated to the art of shibari to learn more and eventually educate others—and to your surprise, he actually remembered!

that’s how you got over thirty thousand likes, and two thousand new followers all from a picture he took of you with your hands sitting prettily in your lap while bound together in the prayer tie.

and it was that same picture that had saliva pooling on suguru’s tongue as you showed it to him with a slight shake in your hands.

your hands looked rather pretty tied together. like you were made for this. he could imagine you sitting there with wide eyes and raised brows as you took in every bit of visual information that you could.

“and then here’s the heel tie weave. very simple, but beautiful, yes?”

the work was beautiful no doubt about it, but the small tattoo on your calf pulled his attention the most. it was a bouquet of flowers wrapped in a flowy bow, and upon closer inspection it looked like—

“you like baby’s breath?”

“huh?”

suguru’s pouty lips lifted in a snicker. “baby’s breath . . the flower. i couldn’t help but notice your tattoo.” his own tatted finger pointed to the ink in the center of your calf. “my mom is a florist. these are her favorite—though, she doesn’t sell very many whenever we got ‘em in stock. a refined taste, i guess.”

he watched as the realization slowly crept over your face, and then he was graced with a smile. “yes, i . . i really like baby’s breath. there’s about a million different meanings for it, but i like the self discipline and everlasting love for undying love part of it.”

that makes sense.

“i do think that’s really cool, though. and you never answered my question; what kinda things does this teach you? are you able to apply those things to your everyday life?”

the sandwich, delicious, but forgotten, was mostly lukewarm now as geto unintentionally tried to pick your brain. he had a bad habit of doing that.

he could sense your hesitance, and after nervously chewing on your bottom lip for a couple seconds, you put your embarrassment to the side, and laid it all out for him—something you have yet to do with anyone (besides your followers on twitter) regarding this topic.

suguru was a stranger. someone you never saw in your everyday life, and someone who never ran in the same circles you did. anything you told him would be in confidence . . right?

“well . . basically in my entire twenty four years of living, i’ve always felt like i need to be in control of, like, everything! and i think it’s good to have that sturdy hold on your life, but it’s also quite tiring. shibari teaches me to be . . vulnerable. vulnerable and open to letting someone else take the reigns for once. in a perfect world with a perfect partner, i’d be completely at their mercy, b-but not like in a scary way. even though i’m tired up, i’d feel a sense of safety and relaxation. it teaches me patience. how to spot my limits. allows me to silently communicate with myself in that—that i’ve never been able to before . . its also incredibly intimate depending on who you’re doing it with.”

a rather intense eye contact was held between you and him when you said that last sentence. he wanted you to lean a just little closer so he could get a whiff of your perfume. a girl as pretty as you had to have the sweetest of scents. did you smell of sugar & sweets? maybe something floral? or perhaps you liked tropical scents, like coconut and piña coladas.

“i’ve yet found someone who i’m fully comfortable enough to let go with in . . that way. but that’s okay. i’m getting educated by the best of the best, and doing it solo isn’t so bad.”

suguru would be lying if he said a lewd though or two didn’t pass through his mind. he was only a man after all. a man who had the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen go into extreme detail about how she likes to tie pretty knots over her glowy skin.

“sugu . .” you whispered, tummy erupting with butterflies at how dark his, usually bright eyes, had suddenly gotten.

he looked like he wanted to eat you up.

“that’s reallyyy interesting.” a pause. “you know . . i could always be your partner.”

now that took you by surprise. was he joking? he didn’t look like he was joking, but then again the man looked blazed out of his mind, so he didn’t really have much of a readable expression.

your eyes flicked down, noticeably avoiding his.

juice. he needed juice. you should definitely grab him some juice.

“you’re not funny,” was all you muttered before turning your back to him with a slight squeak in your work shoes. “you are being funny, right?”

suguru watched with hooded eyes as you filled up a small plastic cup with apple juice. that blunt he filled with an eighth was reallyyyy starting to hit now. the poor man thought he was holding a poker face when in reality, he looked like the wolf that devoured the poor, helpless sheep.

“i’m serious. i really like how passionate you are about this, n’ i wanna help. is that weird of me to ask?”

“kinda? . . we’re pretty much strangers. how do i know you aren’t some major perv or an axe murderer?” you spoke with humor in laced in your words. when you slid the cup of apple juice over, he grasped it, rough hands brushing over yours.

“do i look like either of those things?” he grinned, bringing the sweet juice up to his pink lips.

there was a mischievous glint in your eyes for a split second as you tilted your head. “looks can be very deceiving. you’re gonna have to prove yourself, sugu.”

a small hum rumbled in his hoodie clad chest. “and how would i do that? name anything.” he set the cup aside, and briefly turned his attention back to the forgotten monstrosity of a sandwich.

“if you’re really serious, i’ll need you to pay for the next three classes. just to know that you’re dedicated. classes are $115 a week, and i take them weekly.” your chin raised proudly, lips spreading into a giddy smile.

suguru tongued at the inside of his cheek. “i can do that.”

your face got a bit serious this time around, and you leaned close, “i also need you to swear on everything you love and will ever love that you’re not a creep, and just using me for some freak fantasy. need a pinky promise as well just for good measure.”

and then your pinky was up, pretty charms gleaming under the bright lights. “this is about the most random thing i’ve ever done, but you seem cool . . like i can trust you. so i am.”

suguru wiped his hands with a nearby napkin, and wrapped his pinky around yours. his touch was soft. warm. comforting.

“i’ll never give you a reason not to. it’s very rare i’m . . drawn to someone like this. besides, you said the person doing the binding can learn a few things, right?” his pinky tightened around yours, then loosened seconds after.

“u-um, that is right. it’s called a rigger or bakushi . . . t-the person tying the knots, i mean. the one being tied would be the ukete, but i prefer rope bunny. s’cute little name, huh?”

by this point your pinkies were still interlocked, and it wasn’t until you shifted the digit slightly that you realized this, and slowly undid the link. “it helps with communication if that’s something you lack, and raises your emotional intelligence quite a bit. there’s some other things too, but i can’t quite, um, remember right now.”

despite the glazed over look on his face, suguru was listening intently to every word you said. his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. “am i making you nervous?”

you could lie and say he wasn’t, but you were honestly having a bit of fun with whatever game you both were playing.

“m-maybe a little. s’okay though. nothing i can’t handle.” your eyes drifted from his to the beauty mark on his lips, and then back up, making him smirk. “do you—ah, do you need a box for that?”

suguru made a noise of confusion, and then looked down, his brows raising slightly in realization. “oh, yes please . . and i have another proposition for you.”

“and what exactly would that be?”

your heart fluttered when he tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear, and then shortly after, pulled out a black scrunchie. so long gorgeous hair . .

“well,” he chuckled, bunching up the black locs into a bun. “how ‘bout we meetup somewhere before the class, and get to know each other more. i’d like to pick your brain a little bit if that’s alright.”

you nearly dropped the black container you were clutching on to. a small shiver ran down the length of your spine, and stopped right in the area below your tummy. right above your veryyy eager cunt.

“ithinkthatsagreatidea.”

the words that came flying past your glossed up lips were hushed and jumbled together, but suguru cracked the code on the first listen.

“yeah? you wanna hangout with me?”

just as he finished his sentence the sound of the back entrance opening caught your attention. shit.

suguru could sense the wall that he slowly got you to put down shoot back up. he had to act quick.

“how about i leave my number in your phone . . and if you’re really serious about me helpin’ you out, gimme a call. if i hear from you; cool. and if i don’t; then i look forward to seeing you next time i’m here.”

you stared at his empty palm for a moment, then hesitantly handed him your phone, along with the plastic container.

“so you’re just ready to drop three hundred—something dollars on a class with someone you barely know?”

“yes,” the raven haired man muttered, his attention solely focused on making sure all the numbers he punched in were correct. “unless you’re down to do four. just text me—hey kev!”

suguru’s eyes flicked to the tired looking man behind you, and all he got back in response was a caveman like grunt.

“i do enjoy our talks, kev,” he smirked, carefully sliding your phone and a fifty dollar bill over to your very awkward form. “i saved it under sugu. and this is for you. keep the change for your tip, n’ the receipt.”

before you knew it the barstool was scraping against the floor, and he was up, towering over you once again.

you had a thought. a thought you’d been debating on for the past couple of minutes, and it wasn’t until he was about to walk away that you decided to act upon it.

“w-wait!” you squeaked out, the receipt that he had planned to abandon now clutched in your hand. his real order wasn’t even on there. all the small white paper had on it was a side order of eggs. you never charged suguru for his meals, and he knew this, but he “paid” every time, and each time insisted you keep the change for yourself.

it was free money, and you’d be an idiot not to take it in today’s economy, so . . . you know.

in your other hand was a pen. a pink pen that you usually kept clipped to your apron. there were two hello kitty stickers wrapped around it, and a glittery grip to match. it was very pink. very cute. very you.

suguru’s brows raised in question as you scribbled something across the back of the receipt. you made eye contact a total of two times, each time more nervous than the last from your end.

“you’ll want this receipt. trust me.” the last part came out hushed, and full of something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

for the third time that night, he was skin to skin with you. fingers brushing over yours as he took the receipt. “thank you for the tip by the way. m’gonna split it with kev. have a good night, sugu.”

“have a good night, ( ❤︎⁠ ).” he gave you one last smile before turning on his heels to make his exit. his thumb ran over the pink ink over, and over, and over—until he made it to his car.

what he expected to be a phone number was actually much different. it was a username. a twitter user.

twitter user @ shibarishawty

suguru was obsessed.

well, maybe obsessed was a little extreme, but his thumbs were definitely starting to get tired from opening and closing the twitter app.

the man didn’t even have a twitter until now.

he looked out of pure curiosity at first because who wouldn’t? but the more his eyes scanned across your skin, decorated with pretty black & red ropes, the more he realized he was actually severely attracted to you.

he liked the medium sized tattoo of a bonsai tree you had on your left thigh. the different sized moles and beauty marks that littered your shiny skin. you must eat a lot of fish or something, because your skin was practically glowing in all twenty seven pics & and seven videos you shared on the page.

and to his surprise, you actually showed your face.

not in any pictures, but in a few videos, your pretty face was on full display as you explained the different knots and styles you were experimenting with.

most of the things you retweeted were educational things about the sacred art, but there were also quite a few . . . lewd posts that shocked him.

naked or half naked women bound, and sometimes gagged, with black ropes decorating their skin like blossoming flowers.

two particular posts caught his eye, though.

when will it be my turn :((

that was a retweet made by none other than yourself. the post you retweeted in question? a pretty caramel skinned girl with drool dribbling down her puffy lips while some faceless man toyed with her exposed pussy. her skin was decorated with pink ropes, and each of her limbs were bound together, preventing her from moving an inch.

horny video aside—the knots keeping her together were beautiful. he could only imagine how much time patience, trust went into all of it.

that’s what you wanted—no, craved according to your many reposts.

another post that he found himself looking at time and time again was a vintage looking picture of a man taking the position as the ukete.

thick muscles strained against a rougher looking kind of rope, leaving evident red lines against his pale skin even in the black & white photo. he was blindfolded, head tilted upwards with a gag between his lips.

were you into that? did you have interest in turning your male partner into a rope bunny of your own?

he thought of this as he shamefullyyyy stroked his dick with a hand covering his eyes in embarrassment.

images of him with red ropes looped around his pale skin flashed behind his closed eyelids, but the thing that had him busting with a choked groan was imagining the excited, yet slightly crazed look in your eyes as you watched him struggle n’ whine.

suguru never came so hard from his imagination before, and after that he heavily anticipated a message from you.

that was sunday. it was tuesday night now, and still not a peep from your end. was he a little disappointed? maybe—but there was still a day left before the actual class on thursday, so he remained hopeful.

“come on, pretty girl. where are you . .” the bored man hummed, flopping back onto the stack of pillows at the top of his bed. his hair spread across the cotton pillows like a halo, and his violet eyes were low n’ bored, practically burning holes into the ceiling.

his laptop laid beside him, two different websites showing different materials and colors of ropes plastered across the semi bright screen. his was phone rested on his hard stomach, and upon opening it, you would be greeted with a website containing different links on how to do certain positions and knots.

he’s been doing his research like a good boy, still confident that he’ll hear from you.

and then, his phone started to vibrate.

but it wasn’t you, of course, it was fuckin’ satoru.

a flash of white hair was all he needed to see before he was letting out an exasperated groan. nonetheless, he still answered.

“yes?”

“strawberry cream puff or mango cronut?”

*sigh* “mango cronut. they’re in season so it’s probably better tasting.”

“two mango cronuts, please! what’s up with you? you sound down.”

there was silence for a few beats, and then suguru was letting out a bored hum, violet eyes flicking towards the now dimmed laptop screen.

“don’t tell me you’re bummin’ about waffle house girl!”

“she has a name you ingrate. it’s ( ❤︎ ), and it’s a very pretty name, and so is she, and—”

ding! ding!

the laptop suddenly lit up, and in the small box in the corner read a text from an unknown number. your number actually. and he was sure of it because there was only one person he knew who referred to him as—

new message from unknown number: hi! is this sugu? it’s your favorite waitresssss

“she texted me . .”

“hm?”

“s-she texted me! waffle house gi—i mean, ( ❤︎ )!” suguru sat up with quickness, and haphazardly tossed his phone to the side. “just be cool . . be coolllll,” he muttered, carefully grabbing his laptop and placing it on the thickness of his thighs.

“what are you gonna say?”

suguru let out another hum, his middle finger circling the cursor over the message. “well, i’m gonna let her know it’s me, and then i’m gonna ask her about the class in the chillest way possible n’ how i’ve been doin’ my research.

he clicked on the message, and nibbled on his bottom lip. first things first—add your contact.

message sent to ( ❤︎ ): it’s about time i heard from you. thought i scared you away for a second

while suguru sat in bed, nearly shaking like a leaf from nerves, you were in your own bed, on your tummy with your feet slowly kicking back & forth in the air as you thought of something to say.

you didn’t mean to leave him hanging for a few days, you were just nervous!

between him offering to take the shibari class with you, and you giving him your nsfw twitter—lots of things were running through your already frazzled mind.

but after a pep talk from your closest friend, and some intense journaling, you decided to message him. your hopes weren’t entirely too high for a response back since you took so long, but suguru, unbeknownst to you, was very eager to hear from you, and replied within minutes.

“thought he scared me away . . hmm,” you hummed, lips curling the tiniest bit into a smile. so, he was thinking about you. cute.

new message from sugu: wanna call?

before you could even respond, your phone was vibrating and flashing suguru’s name across the top. that slight smugness you were feeling was long forgotten, now replaced with pure panic.

“o-oh fuck!” you gasped, now sitting up on your knees. ice flooded your veins, and your heart was pounding. but why? why did suguru make you so nervous? what made him so different from all the other men you’ve talked to?

maybe it was because he was the most attractive being you’ve ever seen. or that he’s the first man to ever tell you that he enjoyed hearing you talk about something you were passionate about—even if said passion was a bit on the perverted side.

maybe it was his height. or his pretty violet eyes that always sparkled under the bright lights in the restaurant. maybe it was the black swirls of ink that made an appearance every now and again from underneath the bagginess of his clothes.

well, whatever it was, it made you swipe over and answer the call on the very last ring.

“hello?”

“hey, cutie.”

out of pure instinct you smiled, heat creeping up to the apples of your cheeks. “cutie, huh?”

“too much?”

“nah . . .”

there were a few, painfully long beats of silence until you both spoke up at the same time, then stopped. laughter filled the quiet spaces of your rooms, and then suguru finally spoke up—

“i’m glad you reached out. you looked so flustered the other night, i thought i scared ya.”

god, his laugh was something so serious—especially over the phone. it was deep, and laced with just enough sleep that it had that this sexy raspiness to it.

“ah, no. no, you didn’t. i don’t know why i was being so awkward . . b-but i’m glad you responded.” you sat back on your bottom, blinding reaching for a nearby plush to pull into your chest. the cushiony object shaped like a mug of matcha felt soft beneath your chin. “i decided that i do wanna take you up on your offer.”

“yeah?”

the smirk in his tone was evident.

your fingers fiddled with the tag on the plush, a small smile creeping on your cherry tasting lips. “yeah . . i do. i really need a partner, and if you’re serious, i’m down to practice on each other.”

some shuffling was heard on the other line, and then you heard him clear his throat. “practice on each other? you mean—?”

“yes. if i practice on you that means my solo sessions will be easier. i’ll go easy on you at first, but if you’re really serious about this, i might have you in a few compromising positions . . all for the love of shibari, though.”

“r-right. of course.”

he sounded nervous, but there was another emotion in his voice you couldn’t quite decipher. maybe excitement?

“did you . . did you happen to look at that twitter page i wrote down?” heat immediately rose to your cheeks, and just like that you wished you never even asked the question or showed it to him.

a part of you was intrigued to know if he liked what he saw, but the other half was flooded with embarrassment. but, he must’ve liked what he saw if he was anticipating your text, right? right . . .

“i did see it. thought it was pretty interesting, so i actually started doing a bit of my own research. your work is beautiful by the way—how long have you been doing this?”

your thighs subconsciously squeezed together. “i’ve known about it, and done my research for about . . a year now? i started actually practicing a few months ago. i-i thought it’d be impossible to learn on my own, but it’s actually not that bad. you’ll catch on like me in no time as long as you’re committed to the classes.”

another moment of silence flooded the room, and your brows scrunched together in thought. “w-what kinda research have you been doin’? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“ah, just the basics. what kinda rope i should invest in. some beginners knots. aftercare. you know, some stuff the rigger should know . . though, i guess i should do some research about being a rope bunny too.”

he laughed again, and this time, it was much lighthearted than the last making your heart flutter with a swarm of butterflies.

you couldn’t believe this was really happening. this was real life.

“y-yeah,” you laughed into the phone, teeth catching onto your bottom lip for a split second before releasing it. “it’s a little intimidating at first, but it’s definitely an experience worth trying. i’m surprised you’re actually into the idea—most men our age are too “manly” for it. i think that just means they’re pussy, though. only a real man would let a woman tie him up for the sake of the arts. don’t you think, sugu?”

“absolutely.”

your brows raised the tiniest bit at the thrill in his voice. slowly, your eyes drifted to the abandoned hemp ropes that laid scattered across your carpeted floor. they were a very dark red color, almost the color of blood.

briefly, you imagined suguru straining against them. the panicked look in his eyes when he realizes he will not, and cannot move unless you feel otherwise. the little whines he would make when you tugged particularly hard in the ropes that held him down.

he’d be completely powerless.

that’s why a lot of men didn’t particularly like to be the ukete. it would require them to be more than submissive than they’d really like.

suguru sounded eager and more than ready, but was he really? you’d just have to see.

“so you’d be okay with that? letting me tie you up?”

“yes. i trust you, ( ❤︎ ). do you trust me?”

“as much as you can trust a stranger that you’ve met a handful of times,” you giggled into the line, baby pink painted toes wiggling in bashfulness at the melodic sound of his laugh.

for a half hour, you both just . . talked.

first about shibari, of course, but the conversation eventually drifted to other things like your other hobbies, ambitions, taste in music, etc.

suguru was full of questions from what you gathered—but not in a creepy way thank goodness.

he had you blushing, giggling, n batting your eyelashes like some schoolgirl with a heart numbing crush. a natural flirt would be the best words to describe him, and you’d be lying if you said didn’t like it.

“i wanna meetup before the class,” you spoke abruptly. you grabbed your ipad, and searched up the cafe you went to before every class. it was small, but locally owned and had the best matcha you’ve ever had in your life.

if there was anywhere you wanted to meetup, and get to know suguru more, it was there.

“m’gonna send you the address to this cafe i always go to. we’ll meet up there, talk for a bit, and walk to class together. ‘kay?” just as you finished talking, you sent the address to him, and within seconds the message was read.

“sounds good, cutie. anythin’ i should know before showing up?”

you let out a small, teasing hum in agreement. “yes, actually. wear something comfy, and i’d probably wear your hair up—might get in your face while you’re practicing. stretch too . . just in case.”

“in case of what?”

“don’t worry about it, sugu. just make sure you stretch, okay?” the last bit of your words were said extra soft n’ extra sweet. you could practically hear him melting over it as he let out a shaky sigh.

“okay . . okay, yeah. i’ll stretch beforehand.”

the conversation was carried on for another twenty minutes before you bid your farewells, and you almost hated to hear him go, letting out a long, drawn out sigh as you tossed your phone aside.

for a minute, you just stared at the ceiling with the tiniest of furrows between your brows. a billion thoughts were running through your mind, but what stood out the most was you asking yourself over and over if you were developing a crush on suguru.

in your mind there was a vast difference between a crush and liking someone.

a crush was more of an attraction. a want to get to know someone more, so you have some reasons to actually start liking them.

when you explained that people they all gave you the same confused, question mark over the head typa look, but it made sense to you. and that’s all that mattered in your world.

you nibbled on the skin of your lip, tugging gently before releasing it back into place. “fuck it,” you muttered, grabbing your phone once again. your brows widened in surprise to see that suguru texted you again.

new message from sugu: sweet dreams

new message from sugu: also . . . any rope recs? i tried googling but it was a little overwhelming lol

and just like that, you were smiling. but not just any small grin. you were fucking cheesing at his text with all thirty two teeth showing.

yeah, there was definitely a crush of some sort brewing.

message sent to sugu: because you’re a beginner, i’d get the cotton material kind. cheap & soft on your skin. but i’d also invest in hemp rope because that’s the most ideal one for lots of reasons. a little on the expensive side though!

not only did you send him a list of pros and cons for the different kinds of rope—you also sent him multiple links for the ones you owned for yourself. he read it, but after five minutes of being left on read you began to feel a sense of dread.

did you say too much? did he fall asleep on you? was this becoming too overwhelming for him?

ugh. the small, minuscule amount of doubt you were holding onto about having a crush on him dissolved into nothing with each glance at your phone.

he didn’t text as you put away your equipment, and you still received nothing as you did your skin care, and wrapped up your hair. actually, you almost forgot about him for a good minute while watching something on netflix, but then your phone vibrated.

it was suguru. multiple texts from suguru—even more than what you sent before. you got excited again, that flutter of butterflies you had earlier now a full blown swarm.

there were pics of different amazon purchases he made, and when they would get to him. you examined the pictures carefully, and from what it looked like, he listened to your advice. you noticed that on top of the cotton and hemp style ropes, he also bought nylon—which was interesting seeing as though that kind of ropes require special knots to stay intact.

they were pretty colors, though. some pink, some red, and some that matched the vibrant color of his eyes.

after putting lots of time, money, and effort into this craft, you knew everything he bought costed a pretty penny—especially the hemp rope. it was the standard for multiple reasons, and because of that, it didn’t come very cheap.

because of the rough, yet comfortable material, any knots the rigger tied would hold nice n’ easy, even if the rope bunny happened to struggle or strain against them. now, you wouldn’t know anything about that part seeing as you’ve never been fully restrained, but you could only imagine the thrill of it.

new message sent to sugu: omg! you’re gonna be a pro in no time

new message sent to sugu: class is from 1-2, so i’ll see you @ the cafe at 12 <3

and with that, you turned your phone on do not disturb, and set it aside with a slight shake in your hands. your heart was beating erratically, and the dull pulse between your legs was becoming rather bothersome.

that night, before you slipped into a peaceful slumber, you had your head buried in the plushness of your pillow while your manicured fingers rubbed sloppily over your perked up clit. shamelessly, you pictured yourself bound in a star harness done by none other geto himself, all while he used your throat like the worlds greediest fleshlight.

in your lewd imagination, he was rough, but not purposefully. you pictured him as a man that liked to believe he was fully in control, but once he got lost in his bliss? there was no telling what would happen.

was he on the whiny side? a groaner? a talker?

all these thoughts and more raced through your mind as you humped into your mattress with a tearful pout on your lips.

THURSDAY 11:56 A.M.

“two matchas with oat milk, and two pumps of brown sugar syrup please.”

“alrighttt! can i get anything else for you, honey?”

you glanced down at your phone that now read 11:57, and looked back up at the waitress with a slight shake to your head. “nope, that’ll be all. thank you so much.”

getting a matcha latte, and sometimes a cherry cheese danish was your ritual before every class. sometimes you’d bring your ipad, and watch whatever show you were currently binging, and other days you would just sit and journal to your hearts content.

today, though, you’d be accompanied by suguru, who was very eager to meet up. at least that’s the vibe you got from his many texts.

but it wasn’t just him. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t quadruple texting this man with a dopey grin on your lips the entire day yesterday as you talked about any, and everything.

you were honestly a little nervous you’d have nothing left to talk about with how much you shared with him.

he was just so easy to talk to, and you actually had a lot in common with him!

same music taste. same love for sushi (except those fake ass california rolls). you were both very into movies ranging from all different genres, and you both shared a passion for taking care of your hair.

suguru took his hair care very serious from it sounded like. that must’ve been why the long, jet black locs he kept in a scrunchie daily were so damn long. it looked soft to the touch, though. you even caught yourself wondering how it smelt. like mint? citrus? coconuts?

“hey.”

you didn’t mean to, but the gasp you let out from being startled was anything but quiet. your brows scrunched together in slight annoyance, but then you heard it.

his laugh.

“woah, woah—i’m sorry!” a warm hand rested on your bare shoulder, squeezing lightly. “i didn’t mean to scare ya. it’s just me.”

you looked up, and there suguru was in all his glory with an apologetic smile etched across his lips. he was wearing a black compression shirt with black sweatpants to match, and his hair was all held together with a mossy green claw clip. you’ve never seen a man wear a claw clip before, and it was honestly one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen.

your eyes flicked from his hair to the small, silver hoops in his ears. very cute. very him.

“h-hey! oh my gosh, m’so sorry,” you giggled nervously, quickly standing up so he could pull you in for a side hug—but it wasn’t just any small side hug. it was a full on embrace, the woodsy, yet spicy scent of his cologne wafting into your nose.

“don’t be sorry,” he chuckled, giving your smaller form a tender squeeze before slowly unwrapping his strong arms from around you. “it’s good to see you.”

nerves were gnawing at your lower belly, and you could feel a slight shake in your bones with each movement you made. “it’s good to see you too, sugu. i hope you like matcha, and oat milk, because i got you one.”

the smile you offered him was friendly, and maybe even a little flirty with the way you batted your lashes.

you had beautiful eyes. they were big n’ round, with the softest look to them that would make anyone feel like they were in a safe space. it didn’t make things better that suguru had a major thing for women with brown eyes . . and beauty marks—which you happened to have quite a few of, scattered around the soft features of your face.

“i don’t drink it often, but i dabble. never had it with oat milk before, though.” his smile matched your own, and then there was a moment of quiet. it wasn’t so much an uncomfortable silence, but you did feel your face get a bit heated.

suguru leant forward on the table, his arms crossing over one another. your thighs squeezed together at the sight of his pecs squishing together under the soft fabric of his compression shirt.

“you look . . very pretty today. i mean you always look pretty, but, uh—heh, you know. i really like your hair like that. seems like we both enjoy havin’ it half up-half down.”

out of instinct, you brought a finger up to twirl at your curls, a bashful smile creeping its way onto your glossed up lips. “thank you, sugu.”

“two matcha lattes with oat milk?”

you nearly jumped out of your skin again at the waitresses sudden appearance. suguru’s pretty front teeth clamped down gently onto his bottom lip to conceal his laughter. you were too cute.

“mhm, yes that’s us. thank you!” you wasted no time taking a long sip of the semi sweet drink, your chest vibrating in a content hum. “this place has the best kinda matcha. i can’t help but chug it.”

suguru slightly adjusted his posture when your tongue poked out to swipe over your bottom lip. he cradled the cup in his large hands, then took a slow sip. it tasted very . . green . . but the oat milk and brown sugar syrup was a very nice combination.

“did you stretch like i said?”

and just like that, suguru was reminded of the dull ache in his joints. he didn’t quite know exactly how he should’ve stretched, or for how long . . so he just did a little bit of everything.

his finger traced along the condensation that covered the plastic cup, “yes, i did. not gonna lie, i’m a little sore from it.”

violet eyes zeroed in on the way you casually chewed on the tip of your straw, and shamefully enough, it had his lower half feeling a bit heated. “i’m looking forward to going, though. do you think i’ll be too far back ahead to keep up? surely, you’re way past the beginner stage.”

“not entirely, no. i still have many things to learn, so don’t feel intimidated . . would you be more comfortable being the ukete for this class? just so i can show you the ropes up close? no pun intended by the way.”

suguru couldn’t help but laugh at the last part of your question, the corners of his eyes crinkling cutely. “i think that would be a good idea—just don’t bruise me up.” not a bit of his tone was serious, there was only pure amusement.

honestly, you weren’t expecting him to be so okay with the idea—especially when you gave him the impression that he’d mostly be taking over the position as the rigger.

you took another sip of your drink, and slowly bat your eyes. “i promise i’ll be gentle, sugu. how ‘bout we swap halfway through the class so we both get some practice in with our knots, hm? it’s a bit of a struggle at first, but once you learned it, you can’t unlearn it. then when you get your own ropes, you can practice on yourself or—”

“you?”

“h-huh?”

suguru’s head innocently cocked to the side, a glimmer of an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint flashing in his curious eyes. “when i get my own ropes . . i can practice some more on you, right?”

the smile he gave you was a seductive one if you’ve ever seen it, but his eyes were telling a whole different story. it was pretty impressive.

“you’re gonna be my rope bunny, right? might as well practice outside of class too if we really wanna be committed, you know?”

your head was tilting in a nod before you could even think of something to say back. and even when you did speak, it came out wayyy more aggressive than you had meant—

“precisely.”

suguru’s thick brows raised, an amused smirk taking over his features. “very eager, huh?”

you were sure he could feel the heat radiating off your face from how bashful you felt. “uh, y-yeah. maybe a little—”

“it’s okay, babe. i am too.”

babe.

the poor cup you were holding nearly folded from how hard you were holding it, but after a few seconds, you were brought back to reality. to him.

“i . . i really appreciate you for doing this—for paying for these classes. and your dedication . . i-it’s really sweet, n’ i’m still trying to process it all. hence why i’m being so freakin’ awkward right now.”

god, it was so hard to make eye contact with right now. since when did he have such a meaningful and intense stare??

when his lips wrapped around his straw, your chest tightened, a warmth spreading like wildfire across your lower tummy. it felt like you were ovulating, but you knew for a fact you weren’t. this was pure lust.

it was like you were playing a game of cat & mouse . . the only thing about that was your positions kept changing. sometimes you’d feel like you had the upper hand in conversations, and others . . well, suguru definitely had you right where he wanted you.

but you knew the positions would soon change yet again once you got to decorating his body in your most expensive ropes.

“i’m happy to be at your service. you’re a real sweet girl, and i’m more than willing to be the . . partner you need for this. i appreciate you for putting so much trust in me. makes me feel good.” he tongued at the inside of his cheek, his foot gently nudging against your calf.

you gave him a slight nudge back, the tip of your shoe drifting up the length of his leg before retreating.

his chest rumbled in a low chuckle, “you sure your ropes are gonna be able to hold me? i’m a pretty big guy.” his question wasn’t smug in the slightest, only full of pure curiosity.

and he was a big guy.

you were a little in the taller side, standing at a good five foot seven and a half—whereas suguru stood at a whopping six four. sometimes six three and a half because he had a bit of a slouching problem, whichhhh you found really hot for some reason . . anyways.

not only was he tall, he was just broad as fuck. a giant wall with luscious black hair n’ pretty teeth. very muscly too from what you could see. the compression shirt hugged his biceps and pecs perfectly, and his thighs . . they were very much on thicker side. you could just tell—even through the thick cotton of his sweats.

but even so, your ropes would hold him nice and still. you were sure of it.

“don’t worry about that. i brought my hemp ropes, so you’ll be secure. and not to worry you or anything, but i like my knots tight. whether i’m doing it or receiving.”

“oh is that right?” he asked in a challenging tone.

the corner of your lips twitched, eyes narrowing the tiniest, “mhmmm.”

in a perfect world, geto would be having you make that same noise on his cock while he plowed into you without a care in the world. he wanted that cookie so fucking bad.

“well, i don’t mind if you’re rough on me . . and, i certainly don’t mind being rough on you. especially when you’re constantly talking about how bad you need it on your little page,” he snickered, relishing in the mortified look that spread across your features. “ah, don’t be shy now. you must’ve wanted me to know this since you showed it to me, right?”

it felt as if two burning coals had been placed on the apples of your cheeks, and as the seconds went by, that heat traveled all across your body. you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation just out in public.

he was saying everything so causally as if this conversation was just random banter, and you wondered—how far was he going to take it? and why were you so ready for it?

your clit pulsed beneath the cotton of your panties, and you felt . . slicker.

when you didn’t say anything, suguru’s smile widened. “i’ll take that as a yes. don’t worry, babe—message received.”

and what the fuck did that mean?

“sugu please,” you hissed, thighs pressing together with need. “you’re making me real flustered over here.”

“oh? you like the way i talk, ( ❤︎ )?”

your lashes fluttered only slightly when you cleared your throat. you set your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fiddling with the charms on your nails. “maybe a little. don’t get a big head over it.”

suguru’s foot nudged your calf again, his head tilting to the side. “mm, i’ll try not to.”

the wispy, stray hairs from his updo grazed over his sharp features, and that’s when you noticed two faint holes on his right eyebrow.

your own brows raised slightly, pupils widening in curiosity. “you used to have your eyebrow pierced?” you spoke softly, tapping the skin above your brow.

out of instinct, suguru’s fingers grazed over the two small holes. “yeah . . for a whileee actually. i took it out a couple weeks ago—heh, basically right before i met you.”

shit.

suguru with an eyebrow piercing would definitely be a sight to see.

“you should put it back in.”

“and why should i do that?”

“because i wanna see it.”

he pursed his lips, chest rumbling in a chuckle. “why don’t i just show you some pics?”

that smug smile he was giving you faltered entirely when your shoe pressed against the inside of his thigh rather roughly. the table jostled from how hard he flinched, and you just about cackled.

you didn’t know this, of course, but suguru’s thighs were terribly sensitive to the touch—especially the tender skin on the insides of them.

you pressed a little harder, “because i want to see it up close in person. duh.”

suddenly, a soft warmth spread over your ankle, and moved your foot over by just an inch. suguru’s fingers grazed over the supple skin once, twice, and then his eyes flicked up, boring into yours.

“you should really be careful. don’t wanna get me amped up when all i’ve been thinking about is you the past couple of days,” he spoke softly, voice laced with nothing but sweetness, despite the real intention behind said words. for a brief second, his eyes glanced down at his phone—

12:50 P.M.

“wow it’s already been almost an hour,” he chuckled, giving your ankle two taps as a silent command to retreat it. and just like he expected, you did it with zero confusion behind those big, brown eyes. oh, he knew exactly what you were.

he could see that you liked to have some fun being on the controlling side of it all, and it wasn’t a front. the thrill behind your eyes was more than evident as you teased the sensitive area of his thigh—or how they sparkled at the mention of not being gentle when it came to decorating his pale skin in pretty knots.

but there was also that submissive aura that surrounded you. the side of you that was bratty, yet obedient.

he wanted to explore both sides of you. he wanted to explore all of you. become one another’s plaything to ease the obvious sexual tension that left his brain cloudy.

“you wanna get going?” he asked, drinking the last few sips of matcha left in his cup. “don’t wanna end up being late.”

you mimicked his actions, and finished the rest of your drink with one last gulp. “mhm. i-it’s just up the street.”

your ankle continued to tingle from his soft touch. you could still feel the gentleness in every stroke of his fingers against your heated skin, and the thoughts it gave you were less than godly.

god, you were still getting to know the man, and you already wanted him to bed you. to touch on you in ways that you’ve been so needy for for months.

you’ve met your share of men, but none of them stood out like sugu. none of them made your stomach twist in knots from a simple text, or your clit ache with want. it was only suguru that stood out so much that he appeared in your dreams the night before. and when you awoke that morning, it was suguru who was the first thing on your mind, and the only thing you thought of as you tiredly humped against your pillow for the fourth time in the span of eight hours.

before you could even reach for your purse, suguru was placing some cash on the table. enough to cover both of your drinks, and the tip.

he had that familiar wolfish look on his face as he stood up, his tatted hand extending towards you, “shall we?”

when his hand enveloped yours, he couldn’t help but give it a soft squeeze. he watched with a certain . . look in his eyes, never once taking them off you.

and he was close, very close. he never broke contact, but he did let go of your hand in exchange for hooking his arm around yours.

like a puzzle finally finding its missing piece, your arm tightened around his strong bicep. “i just need to, um, grab the stuff from my car.”

“no problem. lead the way.”

“are you just gonna stay glued to me the whole time?”

the way he looked down at you with that wolfish look blanketing his features had your tummy dipping. “if i can help it . . except when i open the door for you. i’ll make an exception for that.”

and he stuck to his word, swiftly removing himself from your side so he could hold the door for you.

“my car is juuuust right here,” you muttered, unlocking the door, and pulling out a baby pink tote bag that was very much on the larger side. he almost wanted to laugh at how comically big it was next to you.

“cute bag. i like the bows.”

you glanced down at your bag, then back up at him. “thank you! now let me show you were we’ll be meeting up every thursday.”

suguru held his bicep out for you again, silently pleading in his mind that you’ll take it, and confirm his delusions for you even further.

you nibbled on your lip, hesitating for about several seconds until you finally bit the bullet and laced your arm with his once again. his muscles were nice n’ firm, tightening the tiniest bit around your arm to keep you glued by his side.

the walk was silent as first, but it was a comfortable silence. about halfway there, you crossed paths with an older woman, who smiled kindly at the both of you.

“cute little couple you two are,” she spoke softly, tilting her head in a nod, to which you responded—

“thank you!”

poor suguru nearly tripped over his feet at your words, his brows shooting up in surprise. when he looked down at you, you were already looking back up at him with a smirk. “what? it’s fun to play pretend sometimes.”

“yeah . . yeah you’re right.” more silence followed, and then he spoke up again, “you gonna continue that little act in class?”

this had you giggling, your hand tightening around his bicep ever so softly. “maybeee, m’not sure yet. don’t want mr. kinoko to think you’ll have me slacking.”

“rightttt, righttt,” he chuckled, unlinking his arm from yours so he could open the door for you. “can’t wait to meet the guy.”

the small building smelt of essential oils, and was pretty plain looking, except for a couple figurines and meditation posters. suguru said nothing as you both approached the front desk where a woman sat, humming away to herself. since he had no idea what he doing, or even asking for, he let you do the talking all while his debit card was in hand.

“helloooo,” you singsonged, head cocking to the side adorably.

“hello, ( ❤︎ )! so good to see you again,” the woman replied, giving you a friendly smile. her eyes flicked to suguru, and he was offered the same expression. “who is your friend?”

suddenly, your hand blindly reached behind you to pull him closer, his front now pressed against your back. “this is suguru. i told him about the class, and he wanted to try it out for himself! ‘even went ahead and bought himself some equipment.”

as you and front desk lady babbled away about suguru being a first timer—sugu was intrigued to discover you had yet another tattoo.

it was on the back of your left shoulder, and written in cursive read divine feminine.

it couldn’t have been more truthful in his opinion.

“sugu?”

“hm?”

he was brought out of his thoughts completely when he felt you turn around, your backside brushing over his front. there was this look on your face—a mischievous one that he has grown to become familiar with ever since he met you.

was that intentional? were you teasing him?

“you ready to pay?” your lashes fluttered, the corner of your lips curling into the tiniest of smiles.

he let out a hum, and handed his card over, the silver from the rings on his fingers gleaming under the lights. “i have a quick question,” he spoke softly, subtly squeezing at your side. “am i able to pay for classes in advance?”

“you most certainly are! would you like to pay for the one we’re having next week?”

“yes . . and the next five weeks after that please.”

“h-huh?”

the look on your face was priceless, but adorable.

“suguru . . that’s wayyy more than we agreed on. i-i can’t possibly have you pay for over a months worth of classes—”

“don’t listen to her. please charge the card,” he spoke firmly, his hand squeezing again at your side.

you didn’t say anything after that, your heart swelling like an overly inflated balloon. it honestly felt nice to have his hands on you. his touch was very warm and gentle, like he’s known you forever.

the women looked at you, then suguru, then back at you with wide eyes. “ . . very nice friend you have, honey. i have you two down for every thursday from one to two p.m for the next six weeks. does that sound correct, sir?”

“yes, ma’am. thank you very much.”

you couldn’t deny the gush of slick that seeped into your panties. it was such a nice action, and the fact that he had no problem dropping six hundred something dollars on something for you turned you on immensely.

after everything was paid for, suguru silently followed you to the room where your class would be taking place. he could tell you were annoyed, happy, and grateful all at once just from the small pout on your lips.

just before walking in, you stopped him by pushing a hand to his hard chest.

“why did you buy those extra classes? you didn’t have to do that y-you know.” before you even finished speaking, suguru was taking another step forward, leaving only less than an inch of space between your bodies.

he was already slouching, but he leant down a little bit more anyways, the scent of his cologne making you dizzy.

“because i want to spend more time with you.”

your fingers tightened around the strap of your tote bag, breath catching in your throat. “you didn’t have to spend all that money to do so. i would hangout with you whenever.”

“yeah?”

“yeah . .”

he tongued the inside of his cheek, and smiled. “good to know. shall we head inside? we’re a few minutes late, and i don’t need mr. kinoko thinkin’ i’m a bad influence on you already.”

all you could do was nod, feeling smaller than you already were.

“o-of course.”

when you walked in, there were five other pairs of people, their ropes already out and arranged accordingly. it was dim, but there was still enough light so you could see, and there was some calming music playing quietly in the background.

“c’mon, i like to sit up front,” you muttered, grasping his hand in yours. “and don’t worry. these mats get sanitized after every class.”

you sat down, and removed your shoes, quietly ushering for suguru to do the same. he did the same, of course, and sat close . . very close.

“good afternoon everyone!”

suguru looked to the right, and there was the man of the hour—your muse, mr. kinoko. he was old alright, but he certainly didn’t look as old as suguru had presumed.

he felt a light squeeze on his knee, and looked over to see you staring forward with a giddy smile on your lips. he breathed out a small laugh through his nose, his eyes flicking back to his teacher for the next hour.

mr. kinokos’ introduction was short n’ sweet for the newbies, and soon after that, he was encouraging the people who were playing the role as the ukete to get on their knees.

“for this certain binder, you will need the longest rope you have. i suggest twenty five to thirty feet depending on your partner—and as always; make sure trust is established with each other.”

as geto got into a comfortable position on his knees, you carefully rummaged around in your tote bag for the longest rope you had. it was of cotton material, and a pretty, dark red color. suguru’s eyes widened slightly in curiosity, heart hammering against his chest.

“do you trust me, sugu?”

his adams apple bobbed in a gulp before he was nodding. “yes . . yes, i trust you.”

“alright, everyone! today we will be making use of the hishi, or diamond, pattern. if you’ve been doing your research, you will see that this pattern is very popular among shibari, and can be used in many different ways—but today, we will be using it for a weave binder on your partners’ arms. mina will be my little assistant today in showing you how to achieve this bind!”

“hands behind your back sir, n’ make sure you’re comfortable,” you grinned scooting behind his large form.

suguru could feel eyes on him. when he looked to his left or his right, he’d catch someone quickly looking away because why? they were surely staring.

not very surprisingly, he was the only man in the room taking the position as the ukete, and that definitely caught the women in the rooms attention. even you yourself knew they were bound to ask questions about your new partner as you ran your hands over his broad shoulders, and down the firm muscles of his arms.

“don’t be so tense . . it’s just me, sugu. don’t mind the girls staring—they just think you’re cute,” you snickered in his ear, sending a shiver down the poor mans back.

don’t get a boner. don’t get a boner. don’t get a boner.

that’s what geto repeated to himself over and over as you ran your hands over his tense form.

“too bad for them. i only think one girl in this room is cute,” he smirked, craning his neck so he could come face to face with a very flustered you.

the dark haired man made a noise of surprise when you squished his cheeks together, and forced him to look forward once again. “pleaseee shut up.”

after getting over some leftover nerves, suguru was nice and content, his body now totally relaxed for you and your ropes.

“now for my uketes—this bind will leave you completely immobile from the waist up. it is important that you communicate with your rigger if you are having any discomfort or numbness in your arms. now let’s begin!”

suguru was very pleased to see that you were indeed not lying, and that mr. kinoko was a fucking master at this shibari stuff. what was a struggle to others was nothing but light work to him as he demonstrated how to perfect a diamond pattern.

and before he knew it, he couldn’t move his arms not even an inch.

“s-shit, i really can’t move,” he chuckled, flexing his arms in an attempt to move, but there was no such luck.

“yeah . . you can’t,” you sighed in pure fascination, sitting back on your knees to admire your almost finished work. his shoulders, down to his forearms, were looped together with ropes, and down his back were the diamond knots you were, surprisingly, a pro at doing. “no discomfort right? any numbness?”

before he could answer, mr. kinoko was making his way over with a wide smile. “well, look at this . .” he hummed, admiring your work. “excellent job, ( ❤︎ )! you’ve been practicing at home, i see. may i ask who your new friend is?”

“suguru, sir. i would shake your hand but . .” geto trailed off with a chuckle, the corners of his eyes crinkling cutely.

“she’s good isn’t she? my star pupil—but don’t tell anyone i said that,” mr. kinoko grinned with a wink. “keep up the good work, dear. we’ll be moving onto something else once everyone is finished.”

and with that, he was walking away to check on another pair leaving you and suguru alone once more.

“he’s amazing isn’t he? and his work . . it’s beautiful isn’t it? how he just does it so effortlessly, and with so much skill. i wanna be able to do that. i want someone to do that to me,” you whispered the last part in his ear, and that had suguru’s nostrils flaring, that same mantra he was thinking to himself earlier about not getting a boner now going on a repeat in his head.

being tied up by you was fun, and turning him on more than it really should’ve . . but he couldn’t wait to have you in the same position.

at the end of the day, you were really just a sub begging to be put in sub space by the right person. he could see it in your eyes—and he wanted to be that person.

suguru always thought you were a cutie with your dolled up hair and pink accessories. he liked how soft spoken you were, but when it came to certain topics you really let your bright personality out, and he absolutely adored it.

if you were his girl, you wouldn’t have to work at waffle house to help pay for your classes and expensive habits like you often mentioned to him after a long night of dealing with inebriated patrons.

he looked back at you, and shot you a wide grin, “don’t worry. i’ll be that person—just wait on it.”

he said it so casually, but he was simply just speaking his manifestations into existence.

“now i’m really starting to think you have a crush on me,” you giggled anxiously, finishing up the final knot with a gentle tug. “there, all finished!”

“take a picture.”

“hm?”

suguru looked back at you, violet eyes practically sparkling. “i said take a picture. would be great to post on your secret page, no?”

a breath caught in your throat for the umpteenth time that afternoon, your eyes widening to the size of saucers. slowly, you nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “thank you for giving me your permission.”

“you have my permission to do anything you want when it comes to me, sugar. now hurry up, and take the picture—my knees are starting to hurt.”

you nibbled on your bottom lip, brown eyes taking in the sight before you, and it was quite the fucking sight. the compression shirt he was wearing did not help ease the tingle you felt in your lower belly. it hugged his form so nicely, especially his back, and even the slim curves of his waist.

his flexing hands caught your attention, and when you peered down they were forming into a fist before coming undone.

“relax, straighten your back, and say cheeseeee!” you giggled snapping one, two, several pictures of his back.

geto snorted, his head tilting back in a blissful sigh. he was really starting to enjoy spending time with you.

“alright, now just sit still while i take these off. you did amazing by the way.” a warm squeeze at his shoulder had goosebumps rising all over the expanse of his pale skin. “now its your turn . . make sure you pay extra special attention, and don’t forget that i like my knots tight.”

just as you finished speaking, the first knot came undone. then the next one, and the next, until suguru was finally able to move his arms and stretch with a low groan.

“shiiiiit,” he sighed, shaking his arms to get a bit of the numbness to go away. “this is gonna take some getting used to.”

“well, don’t worry. you being the ukete won’t be a regular thing—unless you want it to be, of course. i never minded getting some extra practice in.” you sat back on your bottom, legs crossing over one another. the face you had on was calm, collected . . but, what you really wanted was for geto to toy with you. to play with your body, and caress it in ways that you haven’t felt in a good while.

so what if you didn’t know the man all that well. there were people who’ve fucked people they’ve known in less time. and suguru was sweet! he always complimented you, tipped you generously, and he was just such a great listener. you always liked whenever you would say something, anything, and his reply would be ‘yeah?’

the shit was so attractive it made you feel completely beside yourself.

“okay, everyone! excellent jobs on your diamond weave binds. i sense some of you will be progressing to the intermediate classes soon!” mr. kinoko eyed a few people, and you were one of them, which just made your day. “the next bind we will be doing is a half diamond chest harness. very simple, but all the more beautiful. uketes please find yourselves in a comfortable, sitting up position, and we will get started shortly.”

“here,” you spoke softly handing the rope over to suguru, “we’ll probably end up using this length again like always.”

as suguru took the rope from you, his fingers grazed over yours. his pointer and middle fingers trailed over your wrist that was decorated in gold bracelets, and then over the top of your hand, pressing down lightly.

“thank you . . you trust me?”

before answering, you got on your knees, and turned your back to him, showing off that enticing tattoo that made hearts form in his eyes.

“i trust you, sugu. jus’ remember what i said.”

while mr. kinoko went into great detail about how to perfect the bind, all suguru could think about was how soft your skin was. it reminded him of freshly bloomed flower petals, like the ones his mother sold everyday in her shop.

you were like a flower, he thought to himself—like a lily of the valley with your gentle aura and seemingly soft curves. that kind of lily symbolized purity . . happiness. it was a flower you gave to people for good luck. at least that’s what his momma told him as a child before reminding him that it indeed should not be ingested given how poisonous it was.

now that he actually thought about it, you had a few of the same good qualities his momma had—and mannn was suguru a mommas boy.

but not in the weird, incestuous way most might think of when they hear that term.

he just admired her, and most of all, her strength. it couldn’t have been easy raising him all by herself, especially when he was such a wound up child growing up, with a heart bigger than his body.

she was the one who taught him that it was okay to cry despite what other boys might tell him. and she was the one who taught him to ride a bike, and eventually how to shave so he wouldn’t mark up his pale skin with cuts. never the type of woman to raise her voice, or take the frustrations from the day out on him . . like his father often would.

thankfully, suguru didn’t remember much of his father, besides how loud he could be, and how mean he was to his momma after a long day of doing god knows what. but one day—one fateful day, suguru’s momma had just had enough. suguru was a sweet child. a gentle boy with flowy black hair like her own, and the kindest eyes that welled up with tears whenever he so much as stepped on a poor, defenseless insect. he was so intact with his emotions, and appreciated the world around him so much that she couldn’t bare the thought of some heartless man stealing that spark. she never would’ve forgave herself.

so, she gathered up all the courage she could muster, took her baby boy, and left, not once looking back as she found a small apartment for them to live in.

eventually, she was able to find work at a flower shop—her dream job, and after working for the owners for so many years, they left it to her as their parting gift from this world.

right next to suguru, that flower shop was her life, and she took care of each individual species as if they were her own child. it was hard work, but there was truly nothing better than feeling soil from the earth underneath your fingertips—at least that’s what she told him whenever he would comment on how hard she was working day in and day out.

she would like you, he thought to himself again as he secured his second official knot as a beginner.

his silence intrigued you. was he really into it? was he thinking about something else while he looped the blood colored ropes over your chest? he was already so good at it, like it was second nature.

“you’re not uncomfortable are you?” he questioned, giving the knot a gentle tug. the color contrasted beautifully with your skin. this view of you would be engraved in his mind for many days to come.

your body shifted, wiggling around just the tiniest bit to see how secure you were. it was a little on the looser side, but that was to be expected given it was his first time. he’d become better—you were sure of it.

“feels pretty damn good to meeee,” you grinned, throwing him a wink over your shoulder. “take a picture!”

silently, suguru grabbed your phone, and swiped over to the camera app. he couldn’t help but be nosey, and notice your lock screen—a picture of you, and some fluffy, tuxedo cat with wide yellowish, greenish eyes. cute.

“i can’t wait to see it. you seemed very . . locked in to it,” he heard you speak lowly. a steady heat of embarrassment flowed to his cheeks at the realization that he was completely spaced out during the entirety of him tying you up. his ears were still perked up as mr. kinoko gave instructions, but his mind was definitely elsewhere when it should’ve been there—with you.

a beat of silence passed when you spoke again, “what are you thinking about? n’ don’t say nothing, because i know it’s something.”

geez, you sounded just like his momma. picking at his brain because you knew there was something distracting him behind those indigo colored eyes. perhaps that’s where he got the habit from when it came to him asking strangers about themselves—he definitely got it from his mother.

“you just . . remind me a lot of someone i know is all,” he replied, snapping five pictures of your back. with a strong hand, he turned you towards him with little strength before taking a picture of your collarbone that was adorned with another diamond knot. “you remind me of my mom. your passion for things makes me think of her, and your gentle nature. i feel like i might’ve mentioned her before.”

your hands squeezed at your forearms gently. “you did the other night—something about her selling baby’s breath at her shop?”

“yeah, yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly, setting your phone aside with a soft thump. “i know that sounds kinda weird, but—”

“i don’t think it sounds weird at all,” you interrupted with a sweet smile. “i’m sure she’s just as lovely as you make her sound.”

suguru didn’t say anything after that regarding his momma, but you were rewarded the cutest, most boyish like smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

“excellent work, mr. suguru! either you were paying very close attention, or you’ve been lying to ( ❤︎ ) and i about never doing this before,” mr. kinoko piped up from the side, his aged eyes taking in suguru’s work. he noticed that some parts could’ve used improvement, like how loose the knots looked, and how the ropes hung a little lax around your collarbone.

still good work for a first timer nonetheless!

“i think he’s holding out on us too, i can barely move!” you commented, giving your body a slight wiggle. suguru visibly preened at the praise, the tips of his ears turning more red by the second.

he was really enjoying this. the serenity. your praise, and most importantly, just your overall presence.

suguru was in a period of life where everyday just felt the exact same. he wanted a change in routine—something to look forward to that differed from his everyday life. then, that’s where you came in all bright eyed, and full of attitude with the bubbliest personality.

seeing you every other weekend all dolled up for tips was like a breath of fresh air for him that he so desperately needed nowadays.

the rest of the class went smoother than ever—the final bind being hip cuffs which was pretty simple enough for geto to do. he couldn’t help but notice how nicely your baby phat leggings hugged the curves of your waist, the cream pink color contrasting beautifully with your skin.

you took this quiet time to admire his hands that were inked with pretty tattoos that you could only assume traveled up the length of his arms. he mentioned before that he was really into tattoos despite how shit his pain tolerance could be sometimes. it made you wonder just how many he actually had.

“you’re a natural,” you said suddenly, breaking suguru out of whatever focused daze he was in. “better than any partner i’ve ever had.”

“and i’m only gonna get better from here . . . also, uh—”

“what?” you raised a brow, heart pumping at a quicker beat.

there was a beat of silence, the words suguru so desperately wanted to ask you sitting heavily on his tongue like molasses. he had to remind himself that it was only you. the sweetest woman he’s ever had the pleasure of getting to know, and the worst thing you could ever do was politely tell him ‘no’.

your head tilted to the side, doe eyes looking shinier, and more animated like more than ever. “what’s up, sugu?”

“would you—would you wanna hangout after this? i was gonna head back to my place, and smoke. it’s not too far from here. u-unless that’s not you’re thing, or you think it’s too soon? i don’t know, i just—i like hanging out with you. ‘wanna get to know you better.”

in the midst of geto’s rambling, you had already made up your mind before he even finished speaking. yes.

you didn’t smoke often, maybe socially, but with someone as sweet and cute as sugu? you’d definitely partake just to spend some extra time with the raven haired man.

and if things ever took a turn, god forbid, you had pepper spray and a handy pocketknife to protect yourself.

but you could see it in his eyes. those vibrant indigo eyes that entranced you every time you looked into them for too long—they held no malice . . no sour intentions that would leave you feeling worried. there was the occasional lustful stare that you caught from the last time he visited you at your job, and today. but you were sure you were no better with the way you shamelessly stared at that little beauty mark on his top lip.

“i think that sounds like a great idea . . . and i’m totally jealous you have a place out here. i’ve always wanted a spot in the city,” you said, giving him a toothy grin.

and it was true. you’ve always dreamt of moving out of your apartment in the quiet suburbs, and move into a nice loft in the city. the serenity was nice, but you wanted to see lit up buildings, and wonder to yourself about people and their stories as you watched them from below with your kitten.

you wanted to laugh at the look on his face. you were sure he didn’t mean to look so surprised by your answer, but he did regardless with wide eyes and a laugh in slight disbelief.

“that’s . . that’s great! really great. and, yeah, it’s nothing special, but it’s got a nice view n’ stuff. even nicer gym.” he grabbed your phone, and swiped over to the camera app once more before snapping a picture of your front. “don’t worry, though. i’m sure you’ll get your place out here soon enough.”

you didn’t say anything after that, allowing him to take pictures of your bind from different angles.

he broke the silence by saying, low and sultry, “i really like the way this bind looks on you. i’m sure the people on your page will like it a lot too.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

the remaining few minutes of the class went by faster than you anticipated, and soon, you were packing away your rope and putting your shoes back on. suguru followed suit, even going as far as offering to hold the oversized tote bag for you.

“i’ll be seeing you two next week hopefully?” mr. kinoko spoke soft from the side, brows raised in question. “you have great potential, mr. suguru. i do hope you’ll be joining us again.”

“he actually just paid in advance for six classes, so you’ll definitely be seeing him again. won’t he?” you asked, titling your head up at geto. he looked back down at you, and for just a split second, the older man standing before you could see something.

it was small, but it was slowly growing as the seconds ticked by, like a flower blooming in a timelapse. the old man had seen many things in his time on this earth, and a blossoming love was a sight that was unmistakable.

suguru looked up, the stray baby hairs from his updo swaying across his sharp features. “i’ll definitely be back. i learned a lot, and i can’t wait to learn more. you’re as good as she said you were, sir.”

his throat tightened when your arm wrapped around his bicep, getting comfier at his side.

“glad to hear it. see you next week, suguru, ( ❤︎ ).”

after bidding your farewells, the walk back to your cars was filled with a comfortable silence. suguru took notice of the way your nails lightly scratched at his bicep. it reminded him of when he was younger, and his mother would comb her fingers through his hair after a long afternoon of him playing in the dirt kitchen she hand built for him.

“my place is like less than ten minutes from here. just follow me, yeah?” he spoke softly, setting the tote bag in the backseat of your car. to no one’s surprise it was very . . pink inside.

pink seat covers, and a fuzzy steering wheel cover to match. there were a few necklaces hung on the rear view mirror, and some sanrio figurines suctioned to the dashboard. it also smelt of strawberries and sugar, most likely from the car fragrance plugged into the center vent.

it was very you.

he could picture you all dolled up on your way to work with music blasting and the windows rolled down juuuust a bit, but not too much so your hair wouldn’t mess up.

you were very into your hair—even going as far as saying you’d know if the day would be a good one or a bad one determining on how your hair cooperated with you every morning.

suguru was pulled out of his thoughts when you replied with an excited okay!

“oh, and . . i have a pet.”

your brows raised, an intrigued smile spreading across your lips. “yeah? what kinda pet?”

then he was smirking, shoving his tatted hands in his sweats. “a snake. a-and i don’t mean that in a pervy way—i mean i have an actual pet snake. a ball python specifically . . she’s good company.”

“shit, really? that’s so cool! i can’t wait to meet the little cutie,” you giggled, bouncing on the balls of your feet. just when you thought he couldn’t get any cooler, the man surprised you with a pet snake.

you didn’t know much about snakes, but from what you saw on the internet, they looked utterly adorable with their obscenely large, but cute, eyes.

when suguru left you by yourself to retreat to his own car, you let out a long, exasperated breath you didn’t even know you were holding as your head fell against the soft material that covered your steering wheel.

there was no lying to yourself. you were turned on beyond belief, your lower half feeling uncomfortably slick with need.

he’s perfect, you thought to yourself, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. everything from about him from his looks to the personality you were still getting to know.

your heart pounded rapidly in your chest, beads of sweat pooling on your palms and fingertips as you followed closely behind his car. after about five minutes, he was was pulling into a parking garage, and parking in a spot with a sign in front of it reading reserved parking.

you put your car in park waiting for his instructions, because you’d be damned if your car got towed for parking in someone’s reserved spot.

a clicking sound echoed throughout the quiet garage when he locked his car. he looked so fucking fit in the compression shirt he was wearing, you almost couldn’t believe there were real men out there with perfectly sculpted bodies like himself.

when you heard tapping on the passenger window you gasped in slightly panic, but quickly relaxed when you realized it was just him. you really needed to stop spacing out so much.

“you’re really jumpy,” he chuckled, poking his head through your window. “s’cute in here by the way.”

“ah, t-thank you. and i don’t know why i’m so jumpy, i’m usually more collected.”

he gave you a look you couldn’t quite decipher, and smirked, “if you go down that way just a bit more, you’ll see the guest parking. i’ll meet you over there, and we’ll head in.”

and he did just that, slowly following behind you in big, lazy steps until you found your way.

“look at you living in your fancy building with your fancy reserved parking,” you teased once he was in earshot. your handbag dangled from your fingers, the gems bedazzled across it glistening in the bright, white lights.

“yeah, yeah, yeah. you tease now, but i’m tellin’ you, you’ll have your own place out here in no time.” his strong arm slung over your shoulders, pulling you more into his bigger form. the scent of his cologne was overwhelming. it made your head feel swimmy, and your pussy clench around nothing. his hand rubbed along your bicep, and then your shoulder before releasing you from his hold.

you made small talk on the way to the elevator, and up to his apartment. there were a few touches from him that were very welcomed, like when his fingers brushed against yours in the elevator, or when his surprisingly soft hand cradled the small of your back as he guided you to his place.

upon walking in, it smelt woodsy, like walking into the forest after it freshly rained. the interior that covered the big space was all dark like you expected. a long, leather couch sat against the wall, and a walnut colored coffee table in front of it adorned with olive green coasters. over to the left was the kitchen with marble counters and stainless steel pans hanging from hooks above the stove.

it felt cozy, and looked very lived in n’ homey.

what caught your attention the most the terrarium containing none other than his snake. you couldn’t see the little cutie at first, but you would soon find out that she was—

“pink! she’s pink!” you whisper-shouted, bending down so you could get a better look at the python. hearing him say it was a python, you thought it would’ve looked a little more intimidating, but this snake was about as harmless as it got!

suguru watched in adoration as you admired the snake, appreciating that you were mindful enough to not tap on the glass like most of his guests did—satoru.

“her name is marceline or marcy for short. i got the name from this kid show i used to watch—”

“adventure time? i still watch it almost every night before bed,” you interrupted, throwing him a smile over your shoulder. “why not bubblegum, or bonnie since she’s pink?”

he shoved his hands in his pockets, carefully rocking back and forth on his heels. “marceline sounded cooler.”

“that it does, that it does . . . your place is really nice by the way. it’s like a freakin’ palace in here almost with the ceilings being so high. can i ask what you do for work?”

“i’m a tattoo artist slash piercing artist. it’s pretty good money, and my mom pays me a little something whenever i do some handy work at her shop—even though i tell her over and over again that she doesn’t have to.” he walked somewhere while he spoke, but you didn’t quite notice, your attention now focused on some picture frames on the wall.

suddenly, the room was lit up, allowing you to get a better, more clearer look at the pictures.

“is this your mom?” you asked softly, biting back a grin when you realized seconds after you were indeed looking at pictures of baby sugu. he was a cute little boy—with chubby cheeks and wild black hair that reached his shoulders. there was a smiling woman behind him, with her arms wrapped around his midsection while her face pressed against the side of his.

you could hear him approaching you from behind, and suddenly, his chin was resting on the bare part of your shoulder, warm breath fanning over the exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“yepppp, that’s her. she’s pretty cool. a fuckin’ expert on all things floral, and she makes the best mango rice pudding you’ll ever have,” he chuckled, taking a step back. “you can, uh, set your purse anywhere you’d like.”

after finding a spot on the leather couch, you set your purse on the coffee table in front of you. suguru was still standing, looking awkward as ever with his hands still in his pockets.

“ . . . m’gonna go get the stuff. make yourself comfortable.” before getting entirely out of your view, you peeped him remove the claw clip holding his hair up. a surge of excitement rushed through you at the sight. you reallyyyy liked when his hair was down.

he was taking longer than expected, so you took this time to grab a scented oil from your purse, and roll it along the skin that behind your ears and your neck. you dotted it across your collarbone and rubbed it in with your fingers before tossing it back in your purse, right as suguru was coming back out with an ashtray and an overly stuffed joint in hand.

“you want something to drink? i got juice, water bottles, gatorade?”

it took you a moment to respond, too entranced by how fucking long and shiny his hair was. seeing it at the restaurant didn’t do the jet black locs any justice—it looked soft to the touch and reached just around where his slim waist was. you couldn’t even imagine all the hair care, and time that went into taking care of it—well, scratch that you actually could, and it was not cheap or ever really done in a timely manner.

“ummm . . i’ll have some water please. thank you, sugu.”

“no problem, cutie. one sec.” he set the ashtray and joint on the table before turning on his heels, and making a beeline for the double wide refrigerator.

“so,” you piped up suddenly, pedicured toes wiggling in your pink socks, “it’s pretty cool you’re a tattoo artist. have you done any on yourself?”

suguru let out a hearty laugh, his head shaking back and forth. “yeah, just one. it was suuuuper shitty, so i never did it again, and just found a guy that could do ‘em for me. one thing led to another, and next thing you know, i’m his apprentice and getting my tattooing license. the piercing one came not too long after.”

he set the water bottles on the table, and began to lift up his shirt making your eyes widen. the waistband of his sweats was pulled down just a tad, revealing some words in a foreign language that you could only assume was japanese.

you could tell he did it himself, but it was still good work nonetheless, and the placement wasn’t too bad neither.

“it’s japanese . . translates to forever protected. i did it as a sort of tribute tattoo for mom after spontaneously buying a tattoo gun—which you should never do,” he smirked, tatted fingers running over the faded ink. “she was pissed at first, but now finds it hilarious because of how bad it looks.”

his breath hitched when your soft fingers brushed over his tattoo, feeling up the risen skin. “i don’t think it looks all that bad . . very interesting placement, though.”

that made him laugh even harder before, and this time you joined him, retracting your hand back into your lap.

“gimme a break! i was twenty one, and tattoos right there were all the rage at the time,” he snickered, covering the exposed skin back up. “now . . would you like to do the honors, and spark this?” he held the joint out for you along with a purple lighter that almost matched the color of his eyes.

“y-yeah, yeah. sure thing,” you spoke softly, almost a whisper, taking the joint from his hands with clammy fingers.

suguru watched with a hungry gaze as you lit it, a puff of yellow tinted smoke spilling past your lips chapstick covered lips. it hit your lungs like a punch in the chest, making you cough in a not so cutesy way.

“geez,” you gasped out, handing the joint over to suguru before grasping your water bottle that was sweating with condensation. “that is exactly why i don’t smoke that shit.”

all geto could do was laugh, placing the bitter tasting drug between his full lips.

“well for starters,” he chuckled, exhaling the smoke. “you inhaled it entirely too fast. you just gotta ease into it, babe. let it sit for a second for a second before you exhale so you actually feel somethin’.”

“ugh, but it hurtsssss,” you whined, flopping back onto the leather cushion.

suguru had to adjust himself right there, sitting up straighter a low grunt to clear his throat. he didn’t mean to find you whining out like that so hot, yet here he was, internally fighting himself to not have all the blood in his body rush to his dick.

it was becoming harder when the drug started doing its thing, turning his thoughts cloudier as the minutes ticked by. you weren’t far behind with a dopey smile etched across your lips, and low, red rimmed eyes that swirled with different thoughts.

“why are you sitting so far away?”

the smile you were sporting faltered the tiniest bit, that same swarm of butterflies returning to your tummy more ferocious & wild as ever.

you took a sharp breath in when he settled more into the couch, now manspreading.

“i-i don’t know. why are you sitting so far away?” you giggled nervously, twirling one of your curls around your finger.

“c’mere.”

he softly patted the spot next to him, a daring look in his much darker eyes. there went that wolfish stare again—like he was ready to pounce on you and eat you up till tears sprung in your eyes.

slowly, you maneuvered yourself over to where he was sitting until your thighs were touching.

“that’s much better,” he hummed, ashing the joint. after taking a long hit he passed it over to you, taking in the way your hands had a slight shake in them. “you nervous or something? shaking like a leaf, girl.”

“i guess you could say that,” you took a hit of the joint, attempting, but poorly achieving a french inhale. “not like . . in a bad way, though.”

your words had geto smiling, pearly white teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. he slung his arm behind you, resting it comfortably on your shoulders. his touch was strong, comforting—you couldn’t help but relax more into him, and this had him fully securing you under his muscly grip, tatted fingers now drawing shapes and random patterns into your petal soft skin.

“you make me a little nervous too—in a good way. can’t remember the last time someone made me feel like that.” you could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke, and then you looked up at him, not expecting him to actually be so close.

there were a few things you didn’t notice before that you did now; like random dark brown beauty marks scattered across his skin. or the scar on his cheekbone that was a shade lighter than the rest of him. his lips looked pinker too, more full from up close.

“what are you looking at?” he questioned lowly, inching closer to you by just a centimeter.

you heard a tiny sniff, and then another.

“you smell nice . . way nicer than before. tryna lure me in?” his fingers trailed from your shoulder to the back of your neck, toying with your curls so delicately it made you shiver.

“hah, maybe. is it working?”

your question was answered with him nudging his nose against yours, his lips brushing over yours so softly you almost didn’t feel it—almost.

he was waiting for you to make the move. waiting for you to cut through the thick sexual tension with a kiss. the burning joint still sat between your fingers, but you didn’t care, sealing the leftover space with a small peck.

that was all geto needed.

before indulging in you even further, he plucked the joint from your fingers and mindlessly stubbed it out. the feeling in your chest and nerves could only be described as erratic, and when his lips were back on yours, soft yet hungry, everything just went blank.

he kissed you again, and again, and on the third time his tongue was gently swiping across your lower lip—a silent command for you to open up.

it’d been a while since you were kissed like this. till you were breathless, and letting out little noises of pleasure. geto swallowed up each noise, his scorching hand cupping your jaw.

out of instinct, your hand wrapped around wrist—not necessarily telling him to stop, but more as a way to keep yourself grounded before you made a fool of yourself.

“you’re shaking,” he observed in an almost bored tone, bringing that same hand that was cupping your jaw to your thigh, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “it’s cute.”

after a few minutes the kiss got hungrier, and soon, suguru was moving you onto his lap. his hands didn’t dare travel any further below your waist, careful not to tread to far into deep waters. he was eager, but he didn’t want to show it too much and overwhelm you.

he wanted you to set the pace—to guide him, and show him what you wanted.

when you finally pulled away, your eyes were wide, but not really from how faded you were. you looked mildly surprised at best.

“geez,” you muttered, resting your hands on his hard pecs. “how did we even get here?”

geto didn’t say anything at first, purple eyes zeroed in on the diamond heart swinging back and forth from your necklace. his finger looped around the thin gold chain, tugging on it gently. “‘cause i wanted to sit closer to you.”

he was missing your lips already. how soft they were. how cute the little noises you made when he nibbled on them sounded. and they tasted sweet—like strawberries.

“do you wanna stop?”

you pondered on his question all of ten seconds before shaking your head rapidly. “n-no, not really.”

you dove right back in, pressing your lips needily against his with a pleased sigh. it didn’t take long for you to get comfortable and start messing with his hair, your fingers combing through the silky strands before lightly scratching at his scalp.

there was a deep noise that rumbled in his chest, almost as if he were purring from your touch.

his hands rested on the tops of your thighs, squeezing harshly like he was holding himself back—and he was.

“you, hah—you can touch, sugu. it’s okay,” you panted into the kiss, hands now cradling his face in a way so lovingly it almost shocked you.

he didn’t say anything at your words, but you knew he heard them. the second the last two words left your semi-kiss swollen lips, his hands were exploring everywhere.

first, they traveled up your waist n’ splayed across your back, covering you in a warmth you’ve never felt before. that same warmth traveled back to your hips, a tender squeeze following, and finally, his hands were grasping at your ass, pulling you more into him.

he could feel the heat from your lower half against his dick, even through his sweats, and it was driving him crazy.

the bulge he was trying to prevent from showing up was slowly making an appearance, plumping up against your covered center.

he wanted to fuck you, he really did—but the sadist in him wanting to send you home yearning for his dick. yearning for him.

so he’d hold off on his desires for now.

but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t give you a hand, and help you indulge in yours.

deciding to test the waters, his hand slowly, gently cupped your pussy over your leggings. when your lips parted in a whine, he sucked your tongue into his mouth.

you didn’t know to do, or what to think, but thankfully your hips had a mind of their own, humping into suguru’s hand.

“you like that?” he breathed into your mouth, adding more pressure to the area. he was rewarded with a soft moan, and a stutter in your hips. “yeah? you want some more?”

“yes.”

you didn’t mean to sound so desperate, or practically throw yourself more into him, but you just couldn’t help it! it’s been so long since someone has touched you like this, and created a mess in your panties just from a little kissing.

that’s how you ended up with your back pressed against his hot chest with one leg dangling over his flexing forearm, all while right his hand crept underneath the hem of your leggings.

your breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling like you had bolts of electricity surging through your veins.

“look at me. i wanna see your face,” you heard him whisper from the side of you, his nose running along the apple of your cheek. he kissed the dewy skin, slow and sweet.

when you turned your head his lips immediately captured yours in a blissful sigh, his hand running over the slicked part of your panties. he found your clit over the soaked fabric with ease, drawing light circles with his middle finger.

“oh fuck . .” your leg twitched, hips raising only slightly before geto was using his free hand to push you back down. that same hand moved from your tummy and up to your chest, squeezing tenderly at your breast.

“can i touch?”

his finger paused its movements, his thumb hooking into the waistband of your cotton panties. he could feel the soft hair from your mound tickle his thumb, and hummed, thick brows raising slightly in amusement.

surprisingly enough, in his twenty five years of being on this earth, suguru has never slept with a girl who had pubic hair. why? because, apparently, it wasn’t visually pleasing enough, which he never really understood. in fact, he always thought it was attractive, and found himself busting to lewd girls with cute bushes whenever he occasionally jerked off.

he preferred to get that kind of pent energy out in the gym, but you were starting to become a nice option.

“please . .” you mewled, lips twisting into a proper pout with scrunched brows.

the obscene noises your pussy made from being played with were downright embarrassing.

he left your clit neglected for a few moments, taking this time to delve his ring and middle fingers between your sopping folds. everything felt soft and smooth to the touch as he toyed with the slicked skin.

she must prefer the hair up there, he thought to himself as his fingers finally circled your perked clit with slow strokes. the arm that held your dangling leg flexed, his hand grabbing roughly on the inside of your covered thigh.

“you always get this wet?” he cooed sweetly in your ear before smooching the side of your head. “because this is just fucking ridiculous.”

you felt smaller than ever in his hold as he laughed at you, and to make matters worse, he actually showed you the evidence, carefully yanking his hand from the confines of your panties to show off his glistening fingers.

“look at that,” he muttered, splitting the digits. webs of your essence kept them connected, and you just could’ve cried from embarrassment right there.

“stoppppp,” you pleaded with a high pitched whine, weakly wrapping your hand around his wrist. suguru just laughed at you again, and this time it sounded meaner than the last.

his fingers snapped back together, tatted hand slithering its way back into your leggings. “why are you so embarrassed? it’s your cum.”

his ring and pointer finger spread your dewy folds, middle drawing quick circles on the swollen bundle of nerves. “you’re very shy, bright n’ bubbly, but shy.”

your hips jerked up. “n-no i’m not. it’s just been a while.”

the part about it having been a while wasn’t a lie, he could tell, but the waver in your voice when you denied his observation was questionable.

there were so many things he wanted to say. so many things to point out, and questions to ask, all while he toyed with you. his next question made you want to hide your face.

“yeah? how long has it been, ( ❤︎ )?”

he knew the odds of getting an actual answer were slim, but the response he got back was better than any alternative—

“long enough. so you better be gentle when you put a finger in.” your words were muffled, but slowly, your hands came down, uncovering the pouty look on your face.

geto made a noise between a grunt and a moan, abruptly smushing his lips into yours. he didn’t give you much time or space to breathe. this kiss was more hungry than the others, more primal—like he was trying to claim you with just his lips and fingers.

his entire hand cupped your pussy, palm now sitting snugly against your clit. he really liked how soft you felt, and just how wet you got.

god, he really wanted to take a peek and see. but he needed to keep you right there in his hold with his strong arms keeping you pressed against him.

shivers ran down your back, your hips jerking up when he suddenly swiped a finger through your sopping folds. “i promise, i’ll be real gentle.” that same finger circled your entrance, dipping in ever so softly. he gauged your every reaction, puffy lips parting in pure awe.

your pussy was very greedy, trying to envelop the tip of his finger with a needy clench. his other hand squeezed the inside of your thigh, a weak attempt to control himself.

a rather loud moan erupted from the back of your throat when he slipped his finger in, your gummy walls hugging the thick digit. it didn’t necessarily hurt, but the feeling definitely felt foreign after not being touched for quite some time.

he was very gentle like he promised, distracting you with his sloppy kisses from the slight discomfort. his dick was fully hard now, throbbing against your backside, and smearing pre over his briefs. it was almost painful by the point, but your squirming gave him some temporary relief—enough to not have him rutting into your plush of your ass.

the pace he set was slow, but gradually got a bit faster, and soon, he was slowing down before prodding another finger at the tight opening.

he gave your lower lip one last suck, letting it snap back into place. the tip of his nose grazed over the slope of yours, “may i?”

“mhmmm.”

suguru was very skillful with his fingers, fucking them into you at a pace so delicious it had your thighs quivering. when he curled them, you yelped, reaching a hand back to grab at his slightly disheveled hair. his fingers kept knocking against this spot—a rather sensitive spot that made you feel like you had to pee.

“what is that?” you gasped out, tugging on the thick strands of hair.

“what’s what?”

his fingers paused their movements, the tips of them rubbing against that spot. your pussy was hugging them so fucking tight, it was driving him crazy.

you racked your brain for an answer, and then it all began to connect before you could ask him again. he must’ve been touching your g-spot, something you wholeheartedly thought was a myth until now.

you’re a grown, sensual woman. you liked to have sex, and be touched in naughty ways—and no, you did not keep track of your body count because the number didn’t make a difference in how your body worked, or looked. but anyways, out of all your sexcapades, you never once had a man come close to grazing that spot.

thinking back on it now, wrapped in suguru’s strong, safe arms, you couldn’t help but think how you ever finished with them when this was possible!

it was like he read your thoughts, lips breaking into a wicked smile, “oh, you mean this?” he pressed his fingers down, hard, earning a squeal from your trembling lips. his palm sat heavily against your sticky clit, bumping into it every now and again with every movement he made.

“you’ve never had anyone touch you there? geez, girl,” he teased, fingers resuming their quick movements. he could feel the cream from your pleasure build up around the digits, dribbling down the length of them and your asscheeks, surely leaving a not so cute stain on your leggings.

you wanted to answer, you really did—but, you were interrupted by your sudden orgasm, a soft ringing noise bouncing back and forth between your diamond studded ears.

“o-oh—! oh fuck, i’m cumming—!”

“yeah you fuckin’ are. open your eyes,” suguru growled out, nudging your nose with his. it was hard. like, really hard to even show him the slits of your eyes, but you managed, the intense waves from your orgasm still hitting you with a harshness you’ve never experienced.

your lower half was squirming like crazy, the soft globes of your ass practically humping into his neglected dick.

don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum—he repeated to himself like a mantra. he tried to focus on anything but the throbbing ache in his pants. he focused on his breathing, your whiny moans, the wet shlicking noise that came from underneath your bottoms. he focused on how warm n’ wet you felt. how your gummy walls felt like silk around his fingers.

“suguru,” you pleaded with a wheeze, closing your thighs around his sticky hand. “i can’t, i can’t—please!”

and then he stopped.

the feeling of his thick fingers stuffing you was replaced with a sudden emptiness, an emptiness you weren’t so sure you were fond of. the pounding in your ears eventually came to a stop as well, the only sounds being heard now were your labored breaths and suguru’s gentle hums.

“you okay? it’s alright, i gotcha.”

slowly, he lowered down your leg, immediately situating you properly in his lap so he could embrace you. he didn’t do too much, just held you close, and stroked whatever part of you he could.

you didn’t mean to be so out of it afterwards, occasionally letting out a little whimper in sensitivity. truly, you were in pure disbelief.

that was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, and yet, geto managed to pull it out of you with only two fingers. bonkers.

“fuck, man,” you let out a breathless laugh, relaxing more into his body. “that was . . . different.”

“good different?”

“what do you think?”

this made him grin, dark lashes fluttering against his pink cheeks. “you want some more?”

everything was kind of a blur after that.

there were some kisses, heavy groping, and you’re pretty sure he left an accidental hickey on your neck from excitement—but you were too into it, into him, to even care. next thing you knew, your leggings were off and your panties were dangling off your ankle, long forgotten once your pussy was in suguru’s view.

he sloppily kissed at your thighs, leaving a shiny trail of spit behind him. a particular kiss against the spot next to your cunt had your hips raising, the essence from your folds wetting up his jaw.

“be still,” you heard him mutter lowly into the glistening skin. he pushed the backs of your knees up before resting them on his shoulders. the throbbing in his pants was unbearable, he could just about cum untouched if he really wanted to.

but again, this wasn’t about him or his pulsing cock—this was all about you and the heaven between your thick thighs.

suguru liked to take his time when it came to eating pussy. first, he nosed at your clit, inhaling the natural musk that was you. out of embarrassment, you weakly nudged at his forehead with your palm, lips pushed into a pout.

“don’t be so embarrassed,” he spoke lowly with slight amusement in his tone.

before you could snap back, his lips were softly cupping your clit, the wet tip of his tongue swiping against the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue. he let out a low hum at the taste, the vibrations making your stomach tense. he could feel your toes wiggle against his back—probably an attempt to keep yourself still.

he was very gentle with it—not rough or too fast like your past hookups. there was a lot of spit involved too, which you didn’t mind very much at all. the sounds had your ears feeling a bit warm, though.

when you looked down, he was already looking right back at you with a fire in his eyes that had you anxious in the best way possible. he pulled away briefly, never once looking away as his lips puckered up, a shiny glob of spit falling directly on your clit.

his tongue is very long, you thought to yourself as you examined the pink muscle. he dragged it through your dripping folds, collecting every drop of your essence with a greedy swallow.

“ngh, o-oh god,” your hands cradled his jaw, pulling him closer. the little whines you were letting out became full on moans when his tongue prodded at your entrance, the tip of his nose smushing against your clit.

“don’ . . d-don’t stop—”

“i’m not,” was all he replied before pushing his tongue past the tight ring of your entrance. his tongue massaged your inner walls, thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace.

you could feel a second orgasm approaching, and you were sure it was fixing to be more powerful than the last.

what geto did next surprised you.

his right hand formed into a fist, and then there was a sudden pressure on your lower abdomen. it wasn’t too hard, but it wasn’t exactly light pressure either. you felt like you had to pee again.

a particularly loud squeal caught sugurus’ attention, and then he was looking back up at you again, his tongue retreating back into his mouth. he raised a brow, “how do you feel?”

“honestly? like i gotta pee . . . the fuck are you doing down there?” there was humor in your words, but also pure curiosity. the feeling was overwhelming to say the least . . but you liked it. you liked how experienced he was, and how he knew all the right places to touch you. made you feel things you’ve never felt before. it made you want to glom onto him, and keep him in your back pocket forever.

this was gonna end up being a problem—but it would have to be a problem for later.

“every person who enjoys a womans orgasm knows about that little trick right there. it’s always a killer for me,” he replied, breaking you out of your momentary daze.

“oh, so you’ve done this to lots of other girls, huh?” there was no jealousy behind your words, but you did give him a teasing smirk for funsies.

suguru sucked on the inside of your thigh, dark hair tickling your skin.

“i wouldn’t say lots of other girls—just the ones who seem like they could release some pent up energy. that shit carries all in your hips y’know . . might have to fuck it out of you if you’ll let me.” while he spoke, he was also littering your thigh with kisses, trailing them all the way back to your dripping center. “you gonna let me?”

before you answered, his lips were latching back onto your clit, the tip of his tongue drawing figure eights around the perked bud.

“mmm, maybeeee,” your eyes had fluttered shut by this point, your body relaxing more into the couch. you were totally blissed out, fingers threading themselves through his thick hair to guide his movements.

suguru caught on quickly, and let you take over, his tongue lolling out to give you more of him. it was times like this when he missed his tongue piercing that he abandoned some time ago right along with his eyebrow piercing—he knew you’d get a kick out of it.

one of his hands ran up your side, then cupped your breast, squeezing tenderly. he couldn’t help but moan when you own hand covered his, gently digging your nails into the inked skin.

“y-you’re—you’re so good at this. ‘gonna cum again soon,” you whined out, squeezing at his veiny hand. “do that thing again? please?”

suguru chuckled into your slicked skin, then hummed. the feel of him pushing down on whatever spot that was could only be described as overwhelming . . and maybe even a little euphoric.

you really liked suguru. you liked his face, his laugh, his effortless beauty, and were about to like him even more from the mind numbing orgasm he was about to give you.

“hah! h-hah! yeah, yeah—i’m gonna—”

your words fell off your tongue, all the air punched from your chest when geto pushed his fist down harder onto that spot. dots clouded your vision, and the ringing you were hearing earlier returned louder than ever.

suguru moaned into your pussy, drinking up every drop you had to offer him and then some more. the violent shaking in your thighs only egged him on further, his calculated movements now gone sloppy.

“sugu!” you cried out, hot tears wetting up your lash line when he pushed your knees up allll the way, folding you into the couch like it was nothing. he wasn’t even eating you out anymore—he was feasting, swiping the length of his tongue up and down your slit.

it was too much, but your greed . . that damn needy feeling in the pit of your stomach prevented you from telling him to stop.

a sob spilled past your lips when he gripped your jaw between his fingers, squeezing your already pouted lips together. “you had enough?”

a simple question that only required a simple word—yet all you could do make a noise of confusion, followed by a slow nod.

he eyed the fat tears dripping down your cheeks, leant forward, hesitating for only a second before licking the droplets away. he stayed close, his nose only a centimeter or two from yours.

he smelt like you—even had a bit of shininess on his chin and parts of his jaw. this was a sight you could get used to: him on his knees with your slick covering his lips.

suguru was thinking the exact thing. he could absolutely get used to seeing your doe eyes shiny with tears, and the feeling of your legs violently trembling over his shoulders.

he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

but again, that would have to wait.

after letting you catch your breath, and making sure you were okay, suguru briefly left you to fetch a warm rag. when he returned, your eyes were shut, chest rising and fall in deep, slow breaths.

“hey . .” he spoke softly, kneeling in front of you. your eyes fluttered open almost princess-like, and he couldn’t help but grin. “you wanna do it? or you want me to . . ?”

“go ahead, sugu.”

he was careful, more careful than he’d ever been since he first got his hands on your soft skin. one of his hands rested on the back of your thigh, meanwhile the other gently swiped the rag over the expanse of your pussy.

it was sweet. very intimate—you almost didn’t want it to end, but the ache in your thighs was telling a different story.

“well . . i guess i should get goin’. my cat is probably wondering where i am,” you muttered with a weak laugh, pulling up your leggings and letting them hit your hips with a quiet snapping noise.

suguru almost wanted to pout at your words. he had half a mind to ask you if you wanted to stay longer, but he knew there would be more hangouts to come—so he let you leave, but not before pulling you in for a bone crushing hug.

“i had a lot of fun with you today . . like a lot. i, uh, i hope you had a nice time too,” he gave your form one last squeeze before loosening his grip. you lingered for a few more seconds, taking another sniff of his cologne with a content hum.

“i had fun too, sugu. thank you for having me, n’ introducing me to marceline,” you glanced over at the terrarium, and then back at him, a small smiling creeping onto your lips. “if you ever wanna hangout again—like outside of class, i-i’d love to.”

you were desperately trying to keep your voice from wavering, but it was so very hard when geto’s dick was still harder than ever in his sweats, catching your eye with every flutter of your lashes.

you cleared your throat, “and you’re sure you don’t need any help that?”

“nah, nah—it’s okay. there’s always next time.”

next time.

your heart fluttered at his words, excitement coursing through your thrumming veins.

“well, don’t keep me waiting too long then, yeah?” you poked your finger at his ridiculously hard stomach, letting it trail downwards until you hit the hem of his sweats.

suguru had a brief vision—a vision of pushing you up the against the wall, and kissing you until you were breathless and pawing at his hard on. he could’ve taken you right against the door for all his neighbors to hear.

keyword: could’ve.

but for some reason his dumbass wanted to be patient, and take his time with you. leave you wanting more until him & his stupid dick were all you could think about.

SUNDAY 12:43 A.M.

saturdays and sundays were the days you usually worked the graveyard shift. from eleven at night til six in the morning, you sat your pretty ass behind that counter, slowly watching the night sky turn into dawn—all while serving inebriated patrons that craved mid level breakfast.

the tips were usually nice. mainly because most of the customers were men, and they were about as easy as the eggs kev prepared for them.

but today . . . today, you worked a four to twelve-thirty shift so you could see him. sugu.

it’d only been a day and a half since you last saw him, but you missed his presence terribly. texting throughout the day just wasn’t enough!

you wanted to smell his cologne, feel his firm muscles engulf you in an embrace—feel his lips on yours again . . . among other places.

so, when you mentioned hanging out after your shift, he took the bait and offered to drive you to and from there. suguru was a night owl, much preferring the quietness and how beautiful the city looked all lit up from his apartment—so when you mentioned hanging out after your shift, he didn’t think twice about saying yes.

he didn’t mind waiting an extra ten-something minutes for to come out, scrolling mindlessly on his phone until he saw a familiar silhouette walk out of the restaurant. the first thing he noticed was your hair: slicked back into a ponytail where your curls bounced with every step. the curls reminded him a lot of tulips blossoming for some reason. honestly, you as a whole reminded him of a flower. sometimes a chrysanthemum, sometimes a calla lily, and even sometimes a peony. tonight must’ve been tulips.

when you got in the car, his lips spread into a wide grin. “hey.”

“hello thereeee,” you singsonged, setting your purse beside you with a huff. “god, that shift felt neverending. i couldn’t wait to get outta there—no shade to kev.”

when you looked over, he was already staring at you with a bright look in his eyes. you couldn’t help but smile.

“hi . .”

“hey.”

hesitantly, he squeezed at your knee, running his thumb over the covered skin. “it’s nice to see you. i’m surprised you wanted to hangout again so soon.”

your brow raised in question, “is that a bad thing?”

“no! n-no, of course not. i’m glad you wanted to see me again . . i haven’t stopped thinking about you since . . since thursday. n-not just because of what we did, but because i had so much fun.”

a beat of silence.

“sorry. i don’t know why i’m being so awkward.”

he looked down at his hands, the stray hairs from his messy updo, all held together by a black claw clip, brushing over his cheekbones.

“don’t worry about it, sugu. i think it’s cute.”

careful not to mess up your hair even more, you slowly removed your hat, tossing it on the dashboard with a long sigh. “i had a lot of fun with you too—dirty stuff and non dirty stuff.”

it was quiet again for a few moments, but it was a comfortable silence. the cool air blowing from the vent felt great on your heated, slightly sweat skin.

“i’m assuming we’ll be heading back to your place? somethin’ tells me you don’t wanna walk around smelling like hashbrowns n’ syrup,” he chuckled, breaking the silence.

you let out a quiet hum, head tipping down in a curt nod. “absolutely. i need to wash this eye makeup off before i lose my mindddd!”

“sure thing, cutie,” he spoke softly, putting the gear shift in drive.

the ride to your place was pretty quiet for the most part, aside from some small talk between the two of you. halfway there, in the middle of a rant about this new show he started watching, suguru mindlessly placed his hand on your thigh. his warm touch sent a shiver up your back, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“i meant to tell you earlier that i think your makeup looks very cute by the way. can’t even tell you just got off an eight hour shift,” his hand squeezed at your thigh, and it was in that moment you noticed that he noticed he was even touching you in the first place. you felt his hand lift, but made quick work to place yours over it, your thighs squeezing together.

his eyes flicked over to you, then back on the road.

“thank you, sugu. i noticed that the flashier, and blingier it looks, the more people wanna tip—hence the rhinestones,” you smirked, dusting your fingers over the tiny, fake diamonds that decorated your temples.

“i see . . very pretty.”

the apartment building you lived in was small, but your one bedroom was rather roomy, and very . . pink! it smelt nice as well, like pineapple and nectar with the faint scent of incense.

before he was able to even take his shoes off, a fluffy cat was scampering towards him, its tail swishing against his calves as it sniffed at his shoes.

“hi, babyyyy,” you squealed, kneeling down to pet at its soft fur. it immediately nuzzled into your touch, resting its head on the palm of your hand. the felines face was very soft, feminine—and judging by the pink collar with a little bell attached, he could only assume it was a girl.

he knelt down beside you, gently scratching at its back. “who is this little cutie?”

“this is my pride and joy, the sweetest princess in the world, baby.”

“baby?”

“yes! i found her alone at some park when she was a kitten, and when i called out to her, she responded nicely to baby. she’ll be two in a couple weeks,” you cooed, scratching behind her ear. she purred loudly at the affection, making suguru grin. she was adorable.

with eyes as wide n’ big as yours, and a cute little pink nose that twitched cutely whenever she sniffed at his hand.

“you can put your shoes on the rack, sugu. we’ll be takin’ this party to my roooom!” you singsonged, kicking off your sticky work shoes, and placing them on a sleek, wooden shoe rack.

you walked with a slight sway in your hips, overly excited to have him over and hangout. he followed close behind you with a small smile etched onto his lips.

your bedroom was cute. it just screamed your entire personality with pink and cherry blossom printed furnishings. there was a shelf lined with vinyls & a record player, a vanity, and even a leopard printed chair shaped like a fucking shoe. different scented candles and incense holders were scattered throughout the room, and sitting in plain sight on your vanity was a pink, heart shaped bong.

suguru’s eyes scattered everywhere, taking it in in awe. women were always so good at decorating. he didn’t understand it one bit, but he absolutely adored it.

“please, sit anywhere. make yourself right at home,” you spoke softly, extending your arms over your head in a whiny stretch. “i see you can’t take your eyes off the chair. fucking insane right? some retired baddie was selling it on marketplace, i couldn’t believe it!”

geto took a seat on the chair, chucking lowly. “it’s very nice . . soft too.” the material felt velvet-like under his fingertips.

when he looked up at you, you had this look on your face. a look of pure concentration as your eyes zigzagged across his face in examination.

“now that i’m getting a good look at you . . something about you is different.”

oh. so you were slowly noticing.

“yeah? what looks different?”

you took a step closer to him, and then another, your hands resting on your hips. your eyes flicked to his lips—pretty, but nothing different about ‘em. they trailed up his cheekbones, to his eyes, and then—

“your eyebrow—! shit. sorry i’m loud,” you giggled, manicured fingers covering your mouth to muffle your laughter. you took one more step towards geto, now standing between his legs. his lip twitched when you tapped gently on his temple.

“your eyebrow is pierced again.” your words this time around were calmer, but laced with something that he would soon to find out was lust.

he smiled up at you, nodding slowly. “mhm. you like?”

“i love . . .”

“ooo, but there’s moreeee,” he snickered, then parted his lips, his pink tongue lolling out to reveal a silver ball in the center.

you couldn’t believe your eyes, pupils dilating triple in size. a breath caught in suguru’s throat when you bent down, now only inches from his face. out of instinct, he retreated his tongue back in his mouth much to your dismay.

“no, no—don’t be shy. lemme see it again.” maybe you were coming on a little strong. especially with the way you gripped softly at his jaw, his skin feeling like silk beneath your fingers. “c’monnn . .”

wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out again, saliva pooling on the center from the sudden desperate need for a kiss.

it was like you read his mind that second—brains connecting in a way neither of you knew was possible. your hands rested on suguru’s shoulders for balance as you sucked his tongue into your mouth. you were rewarded with a low groan from him, his tongue dancing with yours in a mix of moans and spit.

the kiss was short lasting with you pulling away breathlessly, a line of spit keeping you connected until your back straightened up.

“i should go shower,” your words were slightly muffled as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand. “i won’t be long.”

“y-yeah . . yeah, okay. take your time.”

you gathered up some clothes; a big t-shirt and a tiny pair of shorts, and quietly made your way to the bathroom. suguru tensed for only a moment when you squeezed his shoulder on your way by.

his heart was pounding, the ringing in his ears drowning out the noise from you bustling around in the bathroom.

“just be cool. be cool.”

he repeated that to himself until he became bored, his mind drifting off to other places. instead of thinking about you riding him on that chair, sweating the gel out of your hair from how rough he’d be—he took the time to examine your room even further. you had lots of trinkets and plushies, and right on the end of your bed, in the corner closest to the wall was an even smaller fluffy, white bed that he could’ve only assumed was for baby.

speaking of baby.

he heard the sound of a tiny bell moving closer n’ closer, until he felt the swish of her tail against his leg. “oh . . hello . .” geto murmured, tatted fingers scratching the spot behind her ear. he was rewarded with a loud purr, followed by her jumping in his lap.

“ohhh, you’re cute,” he chuckled, scratching underneath her chin. “kinda look like you’re momma in a way.”

baby kept him occupied for a good ten minutes before he heard the shower turn off, the music you were playing being the only noise coming from inside the bathroom.

the feline eventually got bored of him and scampered off, finally giving him the opportunity to shed his hoodie, leaving him in a tank top that showed off every ridge of his strong arms swirled with ink.

“i hope i didn’t keep you waiting too long.” he heard a voice from behind him pipe up. the dark haired mans head craned to the side, and there you were, body engulfed by your t-shirt that was three sizes too big with a silk scarf wrapped around your hair. you were . . shiny. your skin looked slicked, yet soft to the touch.

when you walked past the chair, the scent of coconut and honey was pleasantly overwhelming, making him dizzy.

“it’s so nice to have a friend who’s a fellow night owl. ‘gets kinda boring with just me n’ baby,” you spoke softly, taking a seat on your bed. your legs went crisscrossed, lips lifting into a smile, “c’mere!”

suguru didn’t need to be told twice, his body moving almost as if it were on autopilot. he sat next to you, long legs dangling off the bed while his arm wrapped around your form, tugging you closer.

there was a beat of awkward silence, and then another.

“you wanna tie me up?”

your question had suguru literally choking on his spit, the apples of his cheeks gone red from lack of air and flusteredness. of course he was always down to practice shibari with you, but your lack of clothing would definitely make it a little difficult for him to concentrate—and it was.

while you dug around in a medium sized pink chest for a set of ropes, he shamefully stared at your behind, jaw clenching at the realization that you were, in fact, not wearing any panties. it was a nice sight, yes, but he had to remind himself that that was probably just your routine, and not a treat for him to indulge in.

he had to remain patient. let you set the pace for whatever was going to happen.

“so, i’ve reallyyyy been wanting to try out being fully restrained. i know it’s late, and you probably weren’t expecting to do this, but . . .” your words trailed off, but the smile you were sporting said it all. “but if you don’t want to i totally understand—i know it’s super last minute n’ all.”

what you didn’t know was that suguru was at the point in his crush where he would just about do anything you asked.

“of course i wanna do it. i was hoping we’d be able to get some down time and practice together.”

his words had you cheesing, a noise of excitement bubbling in your chest.

“okay great! so, i was thinking we do a star harness from the upper half, and a bind of your choice for my legs?” you knelt down on the plush carpet, placing the ropes aside. suguru wasted no time joining you, hands fiddling with one another out of nervousness.

he already had a leg bind in mind, due to endless hours of research. a spiral futomomo. anything that involved a futomomo tie attached ones thigh to their ankle, and whatever pattern you chose would travel up their leg and to their knee. the first time he tried it, it took about forty five minutes to achieve, but after practicing two more times, he was able to perfect it within fifteen minutes.

the chest bind you chose, a star harness, was one he read over briefly, but it most definitely intrigued him—and he knew that with you as his second teacher, you’d give him a backstory lesson as to why it was so popular within the community.

“alright now just relax. get all the nervousness and shakes out, and just breathe. i know you’re bound to touch my chest a couple times, and that’s okay,” you grabbed the ropes and placed them in his hands. “so don’t trip.”

you leant forward, hesitating for only a moment before closing the gap between the two of you. it was a short peck, and then another one. and even when you pulled away he was quick to chase after you again. he suckled on your bottom lip and let it snap back into place with a content hum.

“we’ll start with your legs first.”

you were so embarrassingly . . shamefully . . but not surprisingly soaked from this entire ordeal. sure, it was your idea to bust out the ropes, but you didn’t expect to feel your clit pulse against your shorts, and your nipples perk up from only a few touches.

suguru was pretty locked in for the most part—besides that little part in the beginning where he just stroked at your thighs, his thumb drifting higher n’ higher until he saw you visibly tense. his only response to that was a small breath through the nose, followed by a smile.

after that, he was focused completely.

after grabbing a nearby throw pillow, he gave you a few instructions. honestly, you tuned out after he told you to lay back, but that just gave him all the more reason to touch you some more.

“i said lay back n’ bend your leg, babe—use that to rest your head on,” he chuckled, gently pushing you back until you were resting prettily on the pillow, a glossed over look in your eyes. “now just bend it . . yeah, like that.”

his hand rested on your knee, pushing your other leg to the side by just a few inches to make room for himself.

this position had you feeling a bit . . . exposed. heat rose to your cheeks at how big sugu really looked from this angle. if he wanted to, and he was more than welcome, geto could easily push your shorts to the side and take you in any way he wanted.

he ran his hand over the inside of your thigh, then back up to your knee. “you ready?”

“mhmm.”

and then he was off. winding the black rope around your ankle and the top of your thigh before creating knot to keep the two together. he repeated this action four more times, the tip of his tongue poking out in concentration.

“you’ve gotten really good, sugu! and you look so focused . . it’s kinda hot.”

geto chuckled at your compliment, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, decorated with different piercings, before getting back to work. “thanks, cutie. i’ve been practicing on myself.”

it was silent again for another minute, and then the cogs in your brain started to turn with an idea. “you know . . if you ever wanna be posted on my page, you could absolutely send some pics to me. i’m sure my followers would eat it up, and you’d be totally anonymous!”

he looked down at you with an amused smirk, tightening the last knot with a low grunt. “can you move? feel too loose or tight?”

you attempted to extend your leg but it was unsuccessful. perfect.

“i can’t move a bit—look,” your leg and thigh moved as one, the only part of you able to move being your wiggling, white painted toes. “and it doesn’t hurt one bit. i’m telling you these cotton ropes are kinda life changing.”

suguru did the same bind to your other leg, gauging your expression for any discomfort. the silence was comfortable, filled with your even breaths and the dull jingle of baby’s collar.

after another minute quiet, he finally responded to your proposal. “i’d definitely be interested in being posted on your page . . anonymous or not. in fact—” he stopped himself mid sentence to secure the final knot, finishing both binds on your legs in less than twenty minutes. “i think you should post these when we’re done. now let’s get you upright, yeah? lemme know if it’s uncomfortable.”

effortlessly, suguru pulled you up by your hands, making quick work you set your thighs in an ideal position that would be comfortable for you, and easy for him to work with once he started the star harness. because of how soft the ropes were, kneeling on the fluffy carpet didn’t cause you any kind of discomfort.

your eyes flicked down, taking in suguru’s delicate work. “this is beautiful. it looks so good, i love it,” you grinned, carefully tracing your fingers over the knots.

“thank you, i’m so glad you like it. shall we get started on the upper half?”

“yes please.”

for this part, suguru came in reallll close from behind, his minty scented breath fanning over the back of your neck. before the rope even touched your skin, he was leaning in closer, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “you trust me?”

you turned your head, nose bumping briefly into his making him smile. “yes, sugu.”

that was a beat of silence, and then his lips were on yours, soft and warm. the kiss was short which you weren’t a fan of, but he did make sure to kiss your pout away, along with another one to the area between your neck and shoulder.

“don’t worry. i’m not finished with you.”

he tapped your arms, a silent signal for you to you lift them. then you felt the rope slither around your side, and the area just below your breasts before coming back around to your back. there was a shift, and then a tightening feeling that had you letting out a small noise of surprise.

suguru ceased all movements, his hands abandoning the knot he just finished to rub soothing circles into your lower back. “you good?”

“y-yeah! ‘just feels . . i don’t know—different? i’ve never exactly done this kinda bind with a partner. b-but don’t worry, you’re doing great. i’m very—very comfortable.” you reached your hands behind you to give his wrists a reassuring squeeze, and then you looked back at him. “i promise m’okay.”

after that everything went pretty smoothly. there were a few times where you had to help him out, but it only made the moment more intimate for you and for him.

he was finished within fifteen minutes, and he had to pat himself on the back for this because you looked divine. that was truly the only way to put it.

“pretty . . .” suguru murmured, tracing his finger down your neck, and over the cotton ropes. they had your shirt snug against your chest, exposing your hardened nipples to his intense stare.

you almost wanted to laugh at the way he gawked at them. it was not very subtle at all.

but never fear, you’d let him get his fill—right after he finished the job and bound your hands together like a good boy.

“there’s no particular bind i need for my hands. just do whatever works easiest for, babe. i’d prefer if they were in front of me though—”

“no problem.”

his eyes widened at the sudden eagerness in his voice, a strawberry colored blush raising to his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“wow, okay. that was really eager—i’m sorry,” he chuckled almost breathlessly. “i-i’ll do a prayer tie.”

suguru’s hands enveloped yours, his thumbs running over the delicate skin of your palms. he squeezed lightly, lashes fluttering before he was looking at you through the wispy, black strands.

he looked like he wanted to consume you.

“ready?”

“mhm.”

the prayer tie was easy, but geto took his time nonetheless, savoring every touch. every quiet hitch of breath you took when the ropes got tighter.

your pussy was borderline throbbing by this point, clit pulsing against the cotton material of your shorts with every shift of your constricted thighs. you could feel the mess of slick down there that was surely leaving a wet stain on your shorts.

geto didn’t say anything, but he could smell it. the sweet, tangy musk first hit his nose when he had you lay for him to do the first bind. it was subtle at first, but got gradually stronger, making it harder and harder for him to concentrate.

“does that feel alright?” he asked in a sultry tone, tucking his hair behind his ear. the hum you let out was quiet, but he heard it as he reached for you phone. “you ready for for me to take some pictures?”

you couldn’t hide your excitedly, straightening your posture with a wide grin. “yes, yes absolutely. do i look okay?” your head cocked the side, that grin you were sporting now turned dopey.

“i think you look beautiful like this. i can’t take my eyes off you,” was suguru said with a glazed over look, lust dripping from every syllable. his eyes remained on yours as he swiped over to the camera app on your phone. “i know you won’t want your face in these, but do you mind if i take a couple for myself? for research purposes, of course.”

“ohhhhh research purposes, huh?”

suguru took a picture of you right there, smiling and all like your limbs were bound together, leaving you at his mercy. he took another picture, but this time of your chest. “why do you tease when me when i’m only trying to learn, hm?” he smirked, violet eyes briefly focusing on how hot your nipples looked through your tee.

“i could never tease you, sugu. all i’m saying is, is that if you wanted to have pics of tied up like this all you had to do was ask nicely. i know i’d ask you.”

. . . .

a blank look washed over geto’s face, and then his thighs shifted. “you . .” he cleared his throat, putting more base into his voice. “you need to stop talking for a second. i’ve been holding back since you got in a car, and i’ve been good so far.”

the raven haired man moved to your side, and snapped a picture of your chest and then the spiral futomomo bind that decorated your thighs and the length of your leg.

a flush of heat spread across your cheeks and neck. “y-you don’t have to do that y’know. i’ve been ready for you since we . . s-since we started.”

your fingertips felt clammy, squishing against one another in the prayer tie he was now getting pictures of. there was a slight tremble in your hands that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

lewd thoughts flew back and forth, pushing, and pushing suguru to a place he was trying to keep his mind free of. like recreating that cute little video that you reposted some time ago, wondering when it was going to be your turn. his pierced brow twitched, and then he was lowering your phone. “you wanna do somethin’ fun?”

it felt like your heart was going to burst from your chest. excitement coursed through your thumping veins, goosebumps rising all along your exposed skin.

“hah—yeah.”

“it’s gonna involve a little recording.”

it took very little for you decide an answer. “yes, yes please. let’s do it.”

suguru breathed out a laugh of disbelief, his limbs moving before his mind could even catch up.

your phone was now propped up on a discarded plushie that had fallen off your bed, already set to record. the camera cut off just above your collarbone, leaving your face out of sight.

sugu was right next to you, his big hand running warmly over your thigh. even when kneeling, he still slouched, towering over you almost intimidatingly. he looked at you like you were made of sweets, his eyes darting back and forth to which part of you he wanted to indulge in first.

“i remember being on your page,” he started off, bringing a hand up to squeeze softly at your breast. his thumb brushed over the stiff peak of your nipple before tracing slow circles over it. “there was this video you retweeted . . and it was set up almost like this—minus the gag,” he chuckled, squeeze at the other mound a bit harder than the last.

if you didn’t know what he was talking about before, you certainly did now. the shakiness in your breath spurred him on, his fingers now dancing down your tummy. they dipped below the waistband of your shorts, brushing over the soft tufts of hair on your mound.

“i-i think i know what you’re talking abou—o-oh!”

finally.

after what felt like a century of waiting, geto was finally touching you where you needed him most. your clit was slick beneath his skilled fingers, beating at the same unsteady rate as your heart.

you hadn’t even noticed he was now behind you until you felt the weight of his defined chest against your back. his chin rested on your shoulder, the tip of his nose dragging over the side of your neck.

“do you like that?” he questioned ever so quietly, dragging his fingers between your sopping folds. he noticed a slight struggle in your hands, and it was honestly quite funny watching the realization slowly wash over you. what you wanted to do was find some comfort in gripping his wrist, but the ropes that held your hands together rudely interrupted those plans. all you could do was relax, and nod your head, the tips of your toes wiggling with need.

“i would like to hear your voice,” he spoke again, lazily circling your clit. “can you verbally tell me? hm?” there was a slightly shake in that questionable hum, but you didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in his skillful fingers.

“yeah, t-that feels really nice—hah,” you let out a gasp, lips immediately snapping shut afterwards in a pout. geto gripped at your chest with his free hand, desperately wishing he was able to feel the soft skin of your breasts.

he couldn’t help but moan, low and quiet, into your shoulder when you slumped more into him. he kept you steady, his bulging muscles keeping you from withering into the carpet in a fit of tears and whines. his eyes flicked to your phone the capturing the entire thing, and it was quite the sight.

he wouldn’t be able to explain why, but there was something so different about seeing yourself on camera doing the dirtiest of acts than in a mirror.

grateful wasn’t even the word to describe how he was feeling about you right now. the way you were so quick to trust him with this. to allow him into your home, your sacred space, and let him meet your sweet baby. it made his heart flutter. it made his dick throb.

a particularly loud moan broke him out of his thoughts.

“fuck, sugu!”

your hips jerked when he licked a stripe across your shoulder. the little ball from his piercing tickled.

“you gonna cum for me?”

there was no time for teasing you about reaching your peak so early. not that he was in a position to even tease you in the first place. unbeknownst to you, and to him until now, suguru was humping into your backside like crazy. the plush of your ass felt heavenly against the bulge he was hiding in his sweats.

“say something,” he rasped desperately into your ear, the baby hairs from his messy updo caressing your blazing cheeks. his palm pushed upward on the skin above your clit, ring and pointer finger spreading your folds before letting his middle finger rub small, tiny circles on your clit.

your stomach tightened, a whine bubbling in the back of your throat. “y-yeah, m’gonna cum. don—don’t let me go please!” it felt like you were in a neverending daze, your head so far in the imaginary clouds in your mind that you feared if he let you go you’d crash and crumble.

with one last swipe of his finger over your clit, you were cumming with a choked noise. trembles reached every limb in your body, leaving you a shaking mess in suguru’s grip. he kept the same pace, not letting it falter even once so he could milk you orgasm for all it was worth—which was quite a bit. even when the initial feeling went away, the aftershocks still had you humping into his hand.

geto was basking in your bliss with you, his cock leaking pathetically against his boxers. if that would’ve went on for just a minute longer, he would’ve came in his pants. thankfully the universe was on his side today.

a sniffle was heard, and then another. the third time it happened, geto was raising his head from your shoulder with a raised brow. surely enough, you were crying—not full on sobbing, but there were a few tears dripping from your dewy lower lashes.

“shit, are you—are you crying?”

when you didn’t respond he, for once in his life, straightened his posture. a feeling of dread washing over him.

don’t panic. don’t panic.

“did i do something wrong? would you like me to untie you—?” that feeling of dread was quickly replaced with confusion when you shook your head in protest.

“no, no. you didn’t do anything wrong . . in fact, that might’ve been the best orgasm i’ve ever had, like ever.”

suguru was silent, too dumbfounded to even think of the words to say. but he knew one thing was for certain—by the time the sun rose in the sky, casting rays of light in you room, you’d be a ruined mess, snuggled into side after a long night of him putting you through your mattress.

to be continued in part two bc tumblr lame asf . . .

[stellocchia]

By the way, I do love that the "Everything you touch breaks" statement from Jamato to Spoke comes right before Jamato mentioning that Purgatory ran perfectly before Spoke arrived, because it really does exemplify how much this man genuinely only pays attention to Spoke.

Before Spoke arrived, there was already a Black Market. There were already people placing hits on each other (that's how Vix got all of his armor). There was a prolific smuggling business. There was a gladiator pit. And there were people making their plans of escape all the same.

Spoke changed nothing. Spoke did nothing exceptional beyond revealing Jamato's identity (which happened later). The very presence of an execution chamber and such harsh solitary that, according to Found, people do not return from, implies that Jamato should know that there were problems.

But if Jamato admitted that there are problems other than Spoke (that the world out there is falling apart perfectly well without Spoke in it, too), then what's all he's doing for? And, even worse, what would that mean about him being so willing in the past to doom the entire server for Spoke's sake if he's not that important?

Of course, for Jamato it makes sense to assign Spoke so much value when he's basically the only person he interacts with. He talked with Wemmbu once and it went horrendously. Who else is he meant to obsessively latch onto while emulating the source of his trauma? (Because the parallels between NULL and the Invisible Mafia as well as between Jamato and Ash are undeniable atp. Jamato even tried to frame Spoke in a very similar way. He just didn't keep in mind that Spoke has grown and learned and he knows how to deal with power-tripping nerds with a fear of responsibility).

Making fun of Jamato aside, I think that's also why he's been executing and trying to execute people around Spoke the entire time. We know Spoke is not the only one of his kidnapping victims who tried to run away. Obviously, it's quite natural to try when, again, they've all been kidnapped. And yet I wonder how many of them got outright executed for it before Dev got involved with Spoke. Vix is another story entirely, because the justification for executing him was even flimsier. It was literally just to hurt Spoke and to drive home the point that everything he touches breaks... except from the point of view of the abuser smashing his things in front of him and telling him he's to blame.

Which actually ties neatly into the fall of the rebel groups, too. Because, like, objectively, Spoke there had been given two wrong choices. He was being blackmailed and he knew Jamato was behind NULL. He could let himself and his friends get kidnapped or try to find allies to fight back. Those were his options, neither would have brought him anything good, and under stress as he was, he chose one of the two wrong ones instead of trying to think more outside the box. He could have revealed the truth, too, but chances are that would have just delivered Jumper and Mapicc straight to Jamato, so it's only another wrong option.

And in the end, Jamato is the one who was blackmailing him and who put him in this impossible conundrum. He was the one attacking the rebel groups. He was the one deciding all of that. And yet he acts as if Spoke brought upon them a natural plague he's unrelated to. Because, Jamato will do anything but admit he has agency and he makes choices of his own. Cruel and violent ones, for the most part.

Just like Ash, Jamato sits back and points at his clean hands while his invisible army does his bloody bidding

[rafesteddy]

𝓶𝓻. & 𝓶𝓻𝓼. 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝓪𝓾

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝟺 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚊𝚜𝚔…

600 words

c/w: none

Based on an ask I got about the dynamic between the twins and the members of their family—Max with the twins, Winnie with the twins, and Rafe with Rory

𝓟𝓸𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮…

Poppy doesn’t ask—she climbs. One second Rafe’s watching the game in peace, the next she’s there, climbing straight into his lap like she owns the place. And let’s be honest, she kind of does.

“Daddy,” she says, her voice sugary-sweet and sing-songy, batting those long lashes he knows exactly where she got from. You.

“Hmm?” He hums, pulling her in closer, arms wrapping around her tiny frame.

She presses her little palms to his chest and looks up, big and expectant. “Will you do the daddy-daughter dance with me for my recital?”

Rafe actually chokes a little. His eyes dart over to you already praying for an out. He clears the lump in his throat; chuckling weakly. “I… Um. What? Baby, what do you mean? Daddy… Daddy doesn’t dance.”

She sits there, blinking up at him with those perfect, doll-like eyes—soft and round—and he’s already doomed.

He knows it.

You know it.

Hell, Poppy knows it.

Still, she doesn’t push. Doesn’t plead. She just leans back, pats his chest gently, and says, “Okay, daddy.”

Which absolutely guts him because that’s not what he expected. No tantrum. No arguing. Just resignation?

She crawls right off his lap, tutu jutting out, soft little girl belly peeking under her leotard. She shuffles her ballet-shoed feet toward the kitchen without another word, padding against the marble floor, stopping at the big glass window, and stands there.

Silence. She sighs heavier than any four year old should as she seemingly drifts away to and island of “misery” and “thought”, working her dad’s emotions in a way that should win her an Oscar for starring in the lead role in How to Shatter a Man’s Heart.

You swear you can practically hear that Nickelback song looming in the background, “prison gates won’t open up for me…” playing as she stares dramatically out onto the lawn.

Rafe looks at you like he’s dying inside. Shoulders heavy, face twisted in quiet torment. “I can’t,” he whines through a desperate whisper. “Please.”

You shrug, lips twitching as you try not to crack up. “Your choice, baby.”

Rafe’s head hangs forward and he groans as his hands rest on his hips. He nods slowly, accepting his fate.

“Princess,” he calls gently.

“Yes, Daddy,” she says, in a small, sweet voice, her back still turned, and if you didn’t know better, you’d swear there were actual tears threatening at the edges of her words.

His eyebrows shoot up, hearing it as well, believing it far more than you. You rest a hand over your lips, trying not to laugh out loud at all of this but honestly it’s too good… It’s too sweet.

“I’m in,” he mutters.

And that’s it. Poppy spins around and shrieks so loud it makes the both of you jump. She runs full-speed back across the kitchen, through the living room, flinging herself at him, arms tight around his neck as he catches her easily.

Then without a pause she reaches down, snatches the remote right out of his hand, and points it at the TV like. The play-by-play announcer is exchanged for the Fancy Nancy theme song. She nods back to the couch and Rafe sighs, walking back over with her in his arms.

Rafe blinks once, twice, and sighs deeply. He glances your way, giving you that ‘well, here we are’ stare. You just smile at him, leaning into the counter watching him, soaking it all in.

Rafe sinks down into the couch with a quiet groan, adjusting her so she’s perfectly cuddled up beside him. He presses a kiss to her hair, yawning like that little exchange took years off his life, before he lets his head fall back on the couch, shutting his eyes.

join my new tag list here

[blossomsicle]

inspired by this scene in fried green tomatoes

"How does this taste?" Satoru asks, putting a burnt piece of what was supposed to be a cookie in your mouth. "The truth."

"Oh," you say, chewing it for a second. "They're, um... bad." Not nearly sweet enough, flat as his ass and again, burnt.

"Hmm." He walks over to the trash can and dumps the entire plate in. Probably for the best.

An egg is cracked over your head, sliding straight off and into your mixing bowl of correctly prepared cookie dough. You freeze for just a second, turning to face Satoru in disbelief.

"Why did you do that?" You ask, mouth hanging open at the audacity.

"You forgot to add eggs." His back is to you, cleaning the dishes from his apparent failed batch.

You eye the container of sugar next to you on the counter. You don't even remember picking it up before you sling the contents at his back. He stiffens and fills a glass of water.

What happens next is a blur.

The water hits your face and you throw a handful of flour at him in return. Chocolate chips end up down your shirt, cocoa powder in his hair. You're both giggling as you fall onto the floor.

"I can't believe you," you laugh, smearing your hand over his face, coating it in whatever the hell is on the floor with you.

"You started it," he shrugs, sticking his tongue out at you.

"What the hell happened in here?"

Suguru enters the kitchen in horror at the mess. You and Satoru are on the floor covered in baking ingredients, not a single clean surface left.

"They said my cookies were bad," Satoru laughs, using your shoulder as support to stand.

"You know you're going to have to clean this up?" Suguru says, arms crossing over his chest.

You roll your eyes as you stand, grabbing a handful of butter and hiding it behind your back. "Always so serious," you say, a grin stretching your face from ear to ear. You wrap your arms around his neck and then smash the butter into his hair, effectively poking the bear.

His lips flatten into a straight line then he cracks a second egg into your hair, splattering onto the floor. You turn to make your way back to the safety of Satoru but Suguru's arms lock around your waist.

You squeal in delight and slight terror, your hands shooting out to Satoru to pull you back to him but your butter slicked hands keep slipping from his, dooming you to whatever fate Suguru chooses for you.

a/n: sorry for calling satoru flat assed :(

[craziertogether]

mike fell for will first.

it’s a bold statement to make but i stand by it.

i firmly believe that mike fell for will first and realized it was wrong first. as bylers we talk a lot about how mike had mountains of queer coding and was “gayer” than will in previous seasons. which i think this is why the GA tends to think that will liking mike is fanservice or doomed to fail because they only saw the confession in the van scene. (apart from lacking media literacy) i genuinely think mike had always seen will as special to him, genuinely as like the light of his life, and while society/his family conditioned him to internalize his feelings, his own lack of self worth pushed him to hide his true self (but will later push him towards will). i think the biggest indicator to mike that his feelings could never be expressed was when his own father stated “see what happens mike?” yes it could’ve been seen as a half assed ignorant comment or a warning to mike but i think mike actually interpreted it as, “will being queer was the reason for his demise”. not only the demise of death but mixed with the downfall of how society viewed will as an individual. mike was already apart of the outcasts and not well liked, but mixing that with how no one even really mourned will, now that really scared mike.

so how does this all play into my claim? mike was in love with will when he died. part of him died that day with will. that was a good reason of why he didn’t hesitate to jump off the edge (yes for dustin but there’s more to it than that). thus, when a nearly impossible possibility that will was alive came to be, mike jumped at the chance. yes, because he loved will. but more so he had found his self worth back. it’s why we see his drive to repair his “relationships” dustin, lucas, and el, all of them now working together for the sole purpose of finding will (and yes keeping el safe). it’s why i believe he is no longer hesitant to show his full devotion to will at the end of season one, by being the first to run to will when he wakes up and why he chooses will repeatedly during season 2. he loved will all along, he loved that will gave him strength and self worth again. (something i might add he never felt with el, he ALWAYS felt weak and inferior and with el it only magnified that when we see how she has powers and could save people something he doesn’t think he can do.) as social pressures kept rising, it all pushed him to fall back onto heteronormativity. and yet, even in his peak “straight bro” era. his love for will outweighs that, he chooses will through the storm that is season three and why he biked miles through the storm after the rain fight (bane of my existence btw). i don’t think it’s because he started to recognize his feelings for will in season 3 which prompted his obsession with el, i believe he always did know about them, from the start. and it’s why he continues to go back to will even when he does everything in his power to keep up his facade, he still knows that it’s will that he will always choose. so by season 4, when mike’s back to his bs and forcing his attraction to el. we see it completely fail, over and over he incriminates himself and finds himself going back to will. again you ask why? because will has shown him what he has always needed, someone who sees his worth and is willing to stay with him even when he doesn’t see his purpose anymore. will empowers mike, not because will is weak and needs a savior because they just fit together and do that for each other. it’s the same reason will finds his own strength to confess (though with a cover) to mike. will finds his voice through mike, mike finds his strength and purpose through will. everything they need (emotionally), they find just that in the other.

[some-triangles]

I have been watching the anime adaptation of Riyoko Ikeda's Oniisama E. Unfortunately I think this may be an important thing for people dedicated to Utena studies - Utenologists, if you like - to do, because it's led me to feel a kind of emotional kinship to Utena's director that I have never experienced before. I say unfortunate because the feeling I'm sharing with my imaginary Ikuhara tulpa is frustration, and unlike him I'm not in a position to do anything about it except post.

It's clear that Ikuhara straight up lifted a huge amount of Utena's visual language from the Oniisama E anime, which is, and I must stress this, beautiful. The manga is of course also beautiful; Ikeda was a generational talent, we all know this. The manga is an agonizingly stylish outpouring of inspiration and energy, stumbling over itself in its haste to get all its ideas onto the page. The anime, on the other hand, is the work of a professional nearing the end of his career (he directed most of the Rose of Versailles anime back in the 70s!) and it is assured, measured and a billion times more Art Film than it needs to be. You got your dutch angles, you got your heavy shadows, you got your divided frames and your narrowed fields of view and your abstract play of light on water. For Utena fans you also have very specific things like rapidly cutting away to some sports that are happening to punctuate the emotional impact of a conversation, or showing the same motion three times in a row (two quick one slow) for emphasis, or using an establishing shot of a particular piece of sculpture to establish that emotional conflict is about to take place, or asking the question "how many giant abstract stained glass windows can there possibly be at a girl's school", or. You get the idea.

This is all in aid of bringing us Asaka Rei, AKA Saint-Just-Sama, AKA The Angel of Death, AKA What If Arthur Rimbaud Was A Lesbian:

Our main character Nanako is a baby gay with a thing for tall women and Saint Just causes her brain to explode, as you might expect.

So: we watch our plucky young heroine falling in love with this group of magnificently fucked up women, most of whom play basketball. The manga is a frantically-paced three volumes and the anime stretches this out for three whole cours (13 episodes each.) As we get into the second cour things get even gayer, as we are shown events that are only alluded to or explained after the fact in the manga. We forget for a second, perhaps, how the manga ends. Despite our better judgement we are persuaded that things might go differently this time. Why not?

Then the men arrive.

Among many other things, Oniisama E is about socially inscribed bonds between people and what happens when they're not quite right - what happens when your brother isn't actually your brother, or if someone who isn't your sister is actually your sister, or if you're a girl and the person you're in love with isn't a boy. Nanako asks one of her cram school tutors if he'll be the big brother she never had (note, please, that she does not mean this in a romantic sense, even though everyone else assumes she does.) He is the titular Oniisama, to whom she recounts her adventures in the world of rich athletic crazy hot women in a series of letters. It turns out - and, spoilers for a 50-year-old manga from here on - that they do in fact share a father, but Nanako didn't know that when she asked him. This pattern ramifies out through the rest of the story, most critically in Rei's doomed romantic love for an older sister who refuses to acknowledge her.

So we have all these interesting questions on the table. What makes a real sibling? What makes a real love? What does blood have to do with any of it? And, most crucially: Lesbianism? Putting aside for a moment the fact that all these women are 17 at best and they're all having life-threatening romantic drama about events that happened when they were 12, some involving significantly older men, it's a rich thematic vein to be tapped. And how are these questions resolved?

Well, most of the women end up paired off with extremely boring men (including, unforgivably, butch basketball star and prince of the school Kaoru no Kimi. The still of her at the end in wife clothes bottle-feeding her new baby is diabolical.) The evil sadistic tall woman doesn't get a man, but that's because she's evil and the guy she was obsessed with all along ends up with someone else. The one definite lesbian kills herself. Our hero gets to have her brother - the gender of the romantic interest she meets to close out the story is, mercifully, left ambiguous, but you know how it's gonna go. This manga was written in 1974. What were you expecting?

In the manga, most of the buildup to the Extremely Heterosexual Ending happens offscreen, maximizing the amount of time we get to spend with the girls who are still allowed to be weird with it. In the anime, we get about halfway through and there the two of them are, taking up space. Henmi, the Oniisama, a man with a haircut for a personality. Takashi, Rei's elder brother, with his horrible white suit jacket. He looks nothing like Akio. He stinks of Akio. They appear as heralds of the non-apocalypse, vanguards of a stillborn revolution. And if I am Ikuhara watching this, there are ideas forming in my head.

Of course most of these ideas are incest-related, but that's Ikuhara for you. The important thing is that Shoujo Kakumei Utena patiently and thoroughly answers all the questions Oniisama E left dangling. No, the obsessive love you have for the person you imprinted on when you were a small child isn't romantic, it's a curse. No, the obsessive love you have for your actual brother or sister isn't romantic, it's a curse. No, the obsessive love you are ashamed of and won't admit to anyone even as it remains at the core of your being isn't romantic, it's a curse, even if it's gay. (Juri inherits her perfect french rolls from Miya-sama, queen of the obsessives.)

And at the end of 39 perfect, imperfect episodes: yes, the girls can love each other. Yes, they are allowed to escape this school. Yes, there is a place for them - someday, together.

Utena came out six years after the Oniisama E anime. It may be, in part, the greatest fix-it fic ever created. The Utena crew took this story and wrenched Rei's coffin open, pulling hard against every trope, every bit of social and cultural pressure. Maybe in a few years someone will do the same thing for Sarazanmai.

[inn0cently]

princess shirt ashley scene but it’s touchy little sister reader and Andrew doesn’t reject her..🧐

this was so fun. because that scene... oh, that scene is fun.

beware of incest and sex below.

"it's you," the words are whispered, soft and kind against her lips. she tastes so good, so much like what he wants to taste, who he wants to kiss.

he pulls away. your cheeks are flushed as you grin up at him, positively delighted. "it wouldn't be anyone else." you giggle, pushing into his hands.

feeling frustrated, andrew does nothing to reciprocate your cuddling for a moment. the second he caught your smell flitting into his lungs, he should have known it was a losing battle. he glares at you, the needy center of his being, his very core.

then he's pulling you in for another taste. it's just a dream, so who cares.

he can hear your voice, echoing around his head as you squeal and rejoice over his desperate kisses. all you've ever wanted was him all over you. whispering your name like a prayer, he slots his lips over you again, and again, and again...

"andy?" the sleep weighed croak of your voice is not part of his dream. slowly dragged from the depths of sleep, andrew peeks an eye open. you're just as close to him as when you went to sleep, glued to his side. but now you're hovering uncertainly over him, concern shining in the defiant blink of your eyes, fighting off sleep.

andrew jumps and pulls himself away from you, grabbing the sheets to cover himself. you blink again, a little more awake. "are you okay? were you having a nightmare?"

"mm, just a nightmare." andrew confirms hastily, fully aware of how close you are and how hot his cock is burning, pulsing against his pajamas. it was a nightmare and it was the best thing he'd ever dared to dream. "don't worry about it. go back to sleep."

you smile slightly and andrew sees his doom in the mischievous twitch of your lips. you've always been trouble, his trouble. "really? i thought i heard you asking for me?"

your smile grows as you scoot across the bed, chasing him to the edge of his mattress. you poke his side, slyly sliding your hand over his chest. you drop your head onto his shoulder. "so i have to help. let me make it all better."

the hair on the back of andrew's neck rises as you press a kiss to his ear. he knows better. he knows you were surely aiming for his cheek, it was just your sleepiness that had thrown you off.

"what do you need from me?"

he knows what he needs from you, but he can't have it. he can't have you. he repeats it to himself, making a laundry list of reasons why he can never have you as he wants. no matter how much he'd lave your body in attention and love.

your teeth sinks into the lobe of his ear, hard enough to grab his attention. it aches, shooting straight to his cock. andrew has lost another battle.

his hands move from your shoulders, giving up on pushing you away. dropping down to your waist, andrew pushes you back onto the bed before you can pull away and end your game. you want his attention? you want him all over you? you get your wish.

you fall back onto the mattress with him, popping off his ear. "so?" you mumble against his jaw, pressing a kiss free of teeth to his skin. "do you know what you need from me, andrew?"

yeah, he knows. he just hopes you can handle the weight of his love for you. andrew tangles a greedy hand into your hair and pulls you into the same desperate kiss he shared in his dream.

your gasp is swallowed by him, body pulling tense. andrew tightens his grip, you don't get to run away now. you couldn't offer yourself on a silver platter and expect him to resist eating you alive. he wants you, he needs you.

your bravado is gone, any confidence you had in teasing him was stolen with the air from your lungs. andrew knows well enough you've never been kissed no matter how much you like to tease. the only good thing about those fucked rumors flying around was that no one wants to approach you. good, andrew deserves to steal every first you have.

he's never been allowed anything he's ever wanted until now. he's been starved for too long to go back now. memorizing the taste of you with each suck of your plumping lips, andrew counts the seconds until he can finally break up with julia.

a hand pushing against his chest snaps andrew back into the present. you're trying to say something, words cut up into squeaks between kisses. he can only imagine your outrage, but he pulls away. a hand is slapped over your mouth before you can scream and wake up everyone in the house.

you pant against his hand, remainingly blissfully silent. you look sleepy again, limp and hazy eyed. andrew thinks he may have been kissing you for too long. you poor, pathetic thing.

"okay?" he whispers. you nod slowly.

"you kiss mean." comes your muffled reply. you push against him again. "kiss nicer."

"hmm, fine." the next kiss is quicker, lighter. a gentle peck over your swollen lips. your attempt to follow his lips is just a second too slow. andrew grins, you're the cutest thing and you were all his. handcrafted and molded just for him, the only gift his mother gave him. he adored you.

with kisses too soft for his liking, your shirt is coaxed up and off. nipples pebbled and hard, your breasts fit perfectly into his greedy hands. shuddering, a breathy moan wheezes out of you as his hands knead the fat.

andrew's more than aware you aren't alone in the room let alone the apartment, ashley could sleep through a hurricane, but your mother occasionally has the same insomnia that keeps andrew awake at night. there won't be a good way to explain any of this, the only thing for him to do is keep your quiet. if you haven't already chased him off, he'll spend every second he can screwing you on every surface of the apartment and he can hear you scream his name then.

"be quiet, beloved." forcing a hard kiss over your lips, andrew slides his tongue into your mouth. "don't wake up ashley."

reluctantly departing from you, andrew's hands quickly dispose the rest of your pajamas, taking your panties along with them and tossed into the darkness of your room.

you're beautiful, more gorgeous than he realized, following the dips of your body until his eyes fall over your cunt. hitching you legs over his waist, andrew spreads the lips of your cunt, watching your clit shine with slick.

andrew can barely find the patience to hold your legs apart as he slips his fingers into you, curling them within the depths of your spasming cunt. rolling his thumb over your clit to elicit more of those soft sounds he can barely here over the schlick of your pussy.

andrew keeps you on the edge, never pressing hard enough to grant you the orgasm you so desperately want. the way you squirm, unable to choose between wiggling away from his touch or arching into it makes him wonder if you've ever touched yourself.

the thought of you squirming around on his bed while grinding into your unsure hand makes andrew's head spin and he can't wait anymore. you gasp as he pulls his fingers from your cunt, clenching around nothing as andrew licks your nectar from his fingers.

shuffling his pajamas down, andrew sighs as his cock bounces free, slapping against his stomach. mind flashing with lewd images of all he could do to you, andrew slides his cock over your cunt, nudging your clit with the swollen head of his cock.

precum smears over your skin, rubbing lower and lower to your gaping hole. you're so tight, andrew chokes down a groan as the head of his cock slides past the squeezing ring of muscle. you're strangling his cock, each needy squeeze threatens to make him cum like a pathetic virgin.

humping your cunt deeper and deeper, andrew bottoms out after a few minutes worthwhile patience. slow and deep thrusts only last for a few minutes, hearing you let out short puffs of air by his ear. then he's thrusting harder, pushing his hips against yours, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

his own worry about waking someone is forgotten the further he falls into your alluring pussy. still squeaking in his ear, sounds wandering into the most tempting moans he's ever heard, you wrap yourself around him.

digging your nails into his shoulder blades while your legs lock around his waist, you tremble and jerk your hips forward, fucking yourself back onto his cock. arousal shoots through andrew giving him headrush, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub over your clit with renewed passion.

you're so needy, andrew wants to stuff you full of cum, threat of pregnancy be damned. he could be a better parent than his mother ever was, just look at how you turned out.

feeling half out of his mind, andrew barely has enough sense to fit his mouth over yours as your orgasm hits you like a truck. every muscle tensed, cunt seizing around his cock, you shake with the force of your orgasm as it tears through your body.

andrew is cumming a second later, unable to bring himself to pull out when you feel so perfect around him. cock pulsing with every rope of cum, andrew empties his load deep inside your womb. in his haze, the threat of getting you pregnant suddenly sounds like the perfect promise to keeping you with him.

you're soft and limp under him again, panting against his neck in eager heaves. andrew collapses next to you, regretfully pulling his cock free. you whine loudly, but a cautious glance at ashley shows she's still dead to the world.

andrew pulls you close to him, letting you hide away in the crook of his neck. cuddling with you feels good, andrew feels unwound for the first time in years. pressing a kiss to your hair, andrew knows this battle was never meant to be won.