Hey so I saw a really annoying comment on one of your imagines and I wanted to tell you that youâre an amazing writer and I hope youâre not discouraged by it! đ«¶đœđ«¶đœđ«¶đœ
Oh my goodness! Thank you sooo much đ„č I will admit that I havenât written since I saw that comment because it kinda frustrated me,but seeing this gave me some motivation :) Again THANK YOU đ«¶đŒđ«¶đŒđ«¶đŒ
Anton Chigurh Imagine: He gets injured and you treat his wound
Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader!, Blood, Stab wound, Mention of murder, description of cleaning a wound, some sexual tension cause you know I can't resist
He didnât care for anyones wellbeing really, he barely even cared for his own. Not out of self hatred or pity or anything like that, he just did what he had to in order to stay functioning. He didnât get a lot if joy or relief from anything so far, so one could say he didnât have much of a Hedonistic streak.
Yet now he was tasked to take care of you. And it turned out that this was.. not as easy as he initially thought it would be. Because now he had to acknowledge all those things that you needed, and that he needed too, because you kept pushing them onto him.
In the beginning you would wait way too long to ask if you were gonna go get something to eat and drink, having waited literally a whole state of a drive for him to get to that part. He made it clear in the beginning that he was going to decide where you went, and every other aspect of what you would be doing while you were his job. So you assumed he would make space for breaks and stuff but.. they never came. Unless you spoke up about them, adding that you needed to visit the bathroom real quick. This made his unyielding stare onto the road break away to look at you from the corner of his eyes, before slowly pulling into the next gas station for a short break. He would silently rummage through his coat for some money and hand it to you, âMake it quick.â You took the money and exited the car, he did so too and leaned against the door watching the gas station closely. If anyone else were to enter he would go after you as well, but this place was secluded enough to let you have five minutes alone.
He crossed his arms across his chest. You slowly started to be less scared of him and that came with more chatting than he would have liked. He only really ever enjoyed hearing someone talk if he was toying with them, seeing how they started stuttering and stammering as they felt the need to get away from him without fully knowing what it was about Anton and their conversation that put them off so much. So it was strange, that after so much time of not having to put himself in any sort of conversation without killing or leaving after the most necessary communication, there was you. Because he was tasked to look after you for an unknown amount of time. Because the things you said to him didnât serve the simple purpose of exchanging information, nor did he intend to scare you.
And.. it was weird. Because he genuinely didnât know what to say. It made him furrow his brows most of the time. He wasnât accustomed to this anymore. Why did you ask him if he slept well? That was useless information, if you wanted to escape you wouldnât subtly ask if he was tired and inattentive like this. Why did you point out the animals you drove past? Was there a reason why you talked to him about the book you were reading? Anton didnât like not knowing what to do.
After going to the bathroom you went inside the gas station to pick up some food as you were sure there wouldn't be a break soon after this one. Anton, it took a while for him to tell you his name, was very determined to the tasks he set himself out to do. Currently it was getting you through the border by the end of the day, that would give you another head start to put off the people that were after you. You browsed the shelves looking for something he liked, you took notice of the things he.. well, didn't hate so you could pick up some food for your stern companion as well. You referred to him as such one time and he only raised his brows, glancing at you not unkindly yet confused.
You didn't spot the man a few rows behind you, watching you intently as you went to the register to pay. And when you went outside he followed swiftly, grabbing your arm and violently yanking you to the side away from the cameras towards his car.
Anton heard you scream and immediately got out of the car, spotting the man trying to kidnap you. You tried to hit the man but he grabbed your other wrist as well, violently shoving you towards the open door of his running car and pushing you in the backseat-
Anton ran over the asphalt and punched him in the face as he tried to slam the door shut on you, but you kicked your feet against it so it flung open right against that assholes back, making the man groan, loosing his balance for a moment and giving another opportunity to break his fucking jaw.
A blade was drawn and plunged right into Anton's hip, you saw his face grimace without a change to that cutting stare- you gasped and stared at the knife stabbed through his pants, but Anton slowly pulled it out with a groan and you managed to close your eyes before he killed the stranger with his own knife. You only heard the body collapse against the car, as well as the running engine. "Let's go"
When you dared to look again, you saw blood pooling through the fabric of his pants, darkening the fabric slightly above his hip. "Fuck.." he went to the car as quickly as he could and got himself into the driver's seat, you swiftly followed. You could only stare at him while he drove off, sweat forming on his forehead as he held onto the wheel with one hand, and pressed on the wound with the other.
"We need to stop, you need medical care right now" he stayed silent, his eyes scanned the road. You kept staring at him and he threw you a glance but didn't answer, his face looking more feverish by the minute.
"They will catch up to us anyways but you will bleed out before we find a spot. We need to stop somewhere now." Your words were left unanswered again, so this time you fully turned your body in the seat and grabbed his arm. "Can't you stop the fucking car?! Let me help you" That was about the first time you ever raised your voice at him or made a real demand- his eyes darted to you again yet this time he frowned as he was considering his options. He parked at a mostly empty Motel, everything went pretty fast after that.
You ran to the reception and got the keys while he fetched the first aid kit from the back trunk, when you entered the motel room he slowly got seated on the bed while you got out all the materials you needed.
Anton huffed and groaned quietly, lifting his shirt to get better access to his belt buckle. You watched him intently, panic was still the most prevalent emotion in your system right now but being right there when he lowered the hem to his pants made you flustered nonetheless. Ever since you 'traveled' together you have never seen him as vulnerable or exposed to you as he was now, and while that hardly changed anything about the range of emotions he expressed, Anton was undeniably unwell. He sighed slowly when he finally exposed the wound, holding both the slacks as well as the hem of his Boxershorts down far enough to grant access to the injury. You crouched down slowly to get a good look at what you were dealing with. The blood made it look awful, but you knew once you cleaned it it would be better to assess.
Your eyes darted up again, catching him looking at you intensely. The eye contact alone made you understand that you could start.
Cleaning the wound was the easiest step, you kneeled next to him on the bed and leaned over him. Strands of your hair fell into your face, but he could still see your concentrated face while you were at work. It was rare for him to see you so much at unease, far from the sunny attitude you usually had despite the blatant apathy and silence he provided in return.
The wound wasn't too deep, at some point he felt your hand rest on his stomach for stability. His body temperature was lower die to the blood loss, so your hand was so strikingly warm against his skin in contrast to the cold and the sensation of pain while you gave him stitches. You were shaking a bit, but still doing your best. At this point you went from crouching to kneeling in front of him as your legs grew tired and you needed to keep your focus.
"Fuck.. give me a sec." You breathed and lowered your hands, you needed a moment before you went on. The wound was closed, but you weren't all done now. But using an actual needle on him was the hardest part, and you found yourself needing a break after giving that your undivided attention for several minutes now. Your eyes closed and you let your head fall against his other leg for a moment. Anton looked down at you while he also took a moment while the wound was not being touched or handled in any way for a moment.
When you opened your eyes back up you were met with his gaze, taking you in. You felt the fabric of his pants against your cheek, and warmth spilled across your face when you realized which position you were in. Kneeling right in between his spread legs, resting your head on his thigh. All the while this realization settled in you get reciprocating his gaze, expression shifting from exhaustion to something sheepish.
Surprisingly Anton was the first to break it, eyes going upwards and then turning to the side with a relatively unchanged expression with the small exception of his jaw clenching. Your eyes in turn trailed down now, face flushing when you noticed what did change. The butterflies in your stomach now animated you enough to get back to work, retrieving all the materials to protect and bandage the wound from the first aid kit laid beside him on the bed. You stretched out from your still kneeling position to reach for it, making him lean back a bit to get out of your way.
You then continued to carefully place the compression pad and the bandages in a way that would hopefully stay in place when he moved, because unfortunately you did have to get going again way too soon.
"Okay.." you concluded, looking from the wound up to him and stood up in order to help him stand as well. He let you help him this time, putting his hand on your shoulder to balance himself while the feeling of the pain settled in once more. He immediately towered over you again now that he stood, an annoyed groan leaving him at the shift of position. Anton then made his way to the mirror on the other side, his back facing you now as he inspected the bandages on himself in the mirror. He slightly lowered his pants some more to get a look at the surrounding area- if you didn't peek into the mirror as well you wouldn't have seen the slight trail of hair leading off down. You adverted your eyes quickly, and Anton slowly put his clothes back in place. You heard his belt buckle again, and got a move on yourself to tidy up the first aid kit again. There were still some materials left you might wanna use, if not for a new injury then to change the bandages on this one.
You shouldered the bag he'd discarded on the floor when you had came in, but when he turned around he lifted it off you by the strap and put it around himself instead, handing you the jacket you threw on the bed in exchange. You figured it would be too heavy to carry for him in this state, it literally slouched down your shoulder. But he just got it off you like it weighed nothing, shooting you a glance as if to remind you to stick to the things you could actually manage.
"Are you sure you'll manage until we crossed the border?" You asked now, Anton opened the door and lifted his arm for you to strep through underneath it. "We'll see when we're there."
I hope you liked it! I feel pretty motivated to write on my drafts lately. As always I appreciate all your reactions and feedback in the comments!
Authors note: This is my first time writing smut and writing for water boy but I couldn't resist he's too cute.
Warnings: Creampie, No protection (wrap it before you tap it),basic s3x things ig. MDNI! Iâm not your parent I donât control what you read on the internet if I suspect you are a minor I will block you.
Theme: Smut! Like straight up smut with barely any plot.
Word count:500
It started as an innocent shower with your boyfriend, something you've done with him hundreds of times yet it has turned into anything but innocent.
The steam from the shower fogs up the bathroom as Waterboy presses you against the cold tile wall, his damp body pressing against yours from behind. His hands grip your hips firmly as he thrusts into you.
"A-ah...you feel so good..." He stutters softly, his breathing heavy as he maintains his pace. One hand slides up to intertwine with yours against the wall. He was always so sweet when you two fucked despite the fact he was ruining you.
He leans forward, his chest against your back as he whispers in your ear, his voice shaky with pleasure."I-I can feel...every inch of you...squeezing me..." His other hand moves to your stomach, pressing gently over your womb increasing the pleasure you already feel. "You're so perfect..." He whimpers pathetically, getting lost in the feeling of you milking his cock.
You moan softly,arching your back against him as his fingers press against your stomach.
"Harder... please...Herman..." Your voice trembles with need, echoing slightly in the shower.
âI need you,need to cum so badââ
His pace falters at your words and he presses against you harder, desperate to make you cum now. He moves the hand that was on your stomach down to your clit and rubs tight fast circles with his slender fingers.âPlease baby, p-please cum on my cock i need itââ
The water cascades down your bodies as he continues, his pace becoming more erratic.
"I-I'm close... are you...?" He asks between breaths and whimpers.You nod vigorously, your legs trembling as you feel yourself nearing your climax.
"Yes... yes... don't stop..." You manage to moan out, squeezing his hand tightly.
Waterboy suddenly bites down on your shoulder, muffling his moans as he reaches his peak, his body shuddering against yours."F-fuck...baby..." He whispers your name reverently as he spills inside you, his hand still holding yours firmly against the wall.
He keeps thrusting through his orgasm, determined to help you finish too. His fingers speed up on your clit, rubbing in quick circles."Come for me... please..." He begs softly, his voice filled with desperation and affection.
Your body tenses as the pleasure builds to its peak, and with one final deep thrust from him, you cry out his name in ecstasy."Herman!" Your walls clench around him as you cum, your legs giving out slightly from the intensity.
Waterboy catches you, holding you up against the wall as you both catch your breath. He presses gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder. "That was... amazing..."He whispers, still inside you but now slowly softening. "I love you so much..." you smile softly still feeling the aftershocks of the shared orgasm. "I love you tooâ
Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does not apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language. Feel free to reblog. :)Â
Overview: How each member would care for their pregnant partner
Authors note: Iâve never done this sort of layout before but i kinda like it :) Warning pregnancy is mentioned if you are uncomfortable please scroll
Theme:Fluff! ot8 x fem!reader
Word count:700
bang chan âÂ
literally becomes your emotional support husband
so gentle itâs ridiculous⊠like heâll touch your belly like itâs made of glass
âdoes it hurt? do you need water? rest? a foot massage? a new planet?â
reads baby books at 3am because he needs to be prepared
always has a hand on your back when you walk, just in case
talks to your bump in the softest whisper ever
âhey little one, be nice to your mom, okay? sheâs doing all the work.â
melts every time he feels a kick
genuinely cries the first time he hears the heartbeat
lee know âÂ
pretends heâs chill⊠heâs not
follows you around the house JUST to make sure you donât slip on thin air
carries the laundry basket for you, even if it has two shirts in it
âiâll do it. sit down. youâre not allowed to lift things anymore.â
massages your lower back without you asking
cats are always curled up on your bump like a lil security squad
kisses your forehead when you think heâs not looking
would 100% talk to the bump but denies it
âi wasnât talking to the baby. i was⊠talking to myself.â
sure, Minho.
changbin âÂ
cooks everything for you⊠protein pancakes, soups, snacks
will not let you go one hour without hydrating
âdrink water or iâll carry you to the sink.â
flexes for the baby because âthey should know their dad is strongâ
rubs your belly like itâs his new lucky charm
offers piggyback rides whenever your feet hurt
tells everyone âWEâRE pregnantâ
sleeps with one hand on your bump, like heâs guarding both of you
hyunjin âÂ
becomes your personal stylist
buys cute comfy maternity clothes because âyou deserve to feel prettyâ
touches your bump like itâs the most magical thing ever
paints little flowers or hearts on your belly when youâre bored
takes aesthetic photos of you at every stage
cries every time he thinks too hard about you two being parents
talks to the baby in a soft, dreamy voice
âi hope you inherit your momâs smile⊠the world needs more of that.â
Most definitely paints the most beautiful mural in the babies nursery
han âÂ
insists on sleeping wrapped around you like a koala
will panic-search every symptom on google (you have to ban him from doing that)
brings you snacks and then eats half of them
accidentally falls asleep on your bump while talking to it
writes a silly baby song on his guitar
tells the baby all his secrets like âyour mom doesnât know i ate the last cookieâ
holds your hand in public and at home because he likes knowing youâre okay
constantly daydreams about holding the baby for the first time
felix âÂ
spoils you absolutely rotten
bakes for you every day: muffins, cookies, cakesâeverything
talks to the bump like itâs already his best friend
âyouâre gonna love your parents, little star.â
rubs your feet while humming
makes sure you have soft blankets, soft snacks, soft everything
genuinely obsessed with watching your belly move
tears up when you wince from discomfort and holds you until it passes
seungmin âÂ
watches you from the corner of his eye 24/7
memorizes every craving
âyou mentioned wanting strawberries⊠i bought five boxes.â
keeps track of appointments better than you do
lets you nap on his chest even if his arm falls asleep
kisses the top of your head when you walk past him
your bump is his new handrest
the baby kicks for the first time and he just soft smiles like itâs the best thing heâs ever felt
i.n âÂ
tries so hard to act mature about everything
but screams (quietly) when the baby kicks
reads parenting books out loud to you
gets so excited buying baby clothes you have to physically remove him from the store
âlook!! tiny socks!! tiny feet are gonna wear them!!â
gives you warm blankets without saying anything
gets protective in the most adorably awkward way
kisses your bump goodnight like itâs a ritual
Taglist: @lixies-favorite-cookie @velvetmoonlght @flippedccc @ladybugbriana @petvlss @lezleeferguson-120 @sweettee2 Comment if you want to join my taglist :)
Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does not apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.Feel free to reblog. :)Â
Overview: You and Channie find your new escape for when things get too heavy.
Authors Note: I'm back finally! I said I would write a story for Chan like months ago and so I finally sat down and wrote something short,hope you enjoy!!
Theme:Fluff! Slight angst with comfort
Word Count:2k
The clock on your bedside table glowed 2:17 a.m. in soft red digits, the kind of color that made the room look warmer than it actually felt. Your blanket was pulled halfway up your chest, and you were already drifting back into sleep when the mattress dipped behind you.
It wasnât the soft, careful shift of someone joining you with the intention of sleeping. It was hesitant too light, almost guilty.
ââŠChan?â you mumbled, eyes still closed.
He froze. You could practically hear the way every muscle in his body tightened. âSorry,â he whispered. âDidnât mean to wake you.â
You rolled onto your back and squinted through the dark. The moonlight from the window barely reached his face, but there was no mistaking the exhaustion etched into his features. His hair was messy, a telltale sign he had been running his hands through it, and the oversized hoodie he wore looked like it had been thrown on in a hurry.
âYou didnât wake me,â you lied gently. âWhatâs wrong?â
Chan pressed his lips together and looked toward the window as if the night sky had answers he didnât. âI canât sleep.â
You reached toward him, brushing your fingers against his arm. âNightmare? Overthinking? Both?â
He let out a weak laugh. âProbably everything. My brainâs just⊠loud tonight.â
You sat up and cupped his cheek. His skin was warm, and he leaned into your touch automatically, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You knew that expression a mix of fatigue and stubbornness. The album was coming out soon, and heâd been carrying the weight of it for weeks. Too many expectations. Too many people counting on him. Too little time for himself.
âDo you wanna talk about it?â you offered.
Chan shook his head, though the movement was slow, conflicted. âI donât wanna dump all of this on you.â
You sighed softly. âChan. Weâre dating. Youâre allowed to dump.â
That earned a real smile, small but genuine, and he took your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. âYouâre too good to me.â
âAnd you worry too much,â you countered. Something in your chest tightened as you watched him shoulders slumped, eyes tired, breathing shallow. âOkay,â you said, adjusting your position. âGet your shoes.â
He blinked. âWhat? Why?â
âWeâre going for a walk,â you declared. âConvenience store run.â
Chan stared at you like youâd just suggested robbing a bank. âAt this time?â
âYes,â you said, already sliding out of bed. âAt this time.â
âButââ
âNo buts,â you insisted. âYou canât sleep. Fresh air might help. Plus you look like a man who needs potato chips and a warm drink immediately.â
Chan let out another small laugh, this one with less strain. âYou know me too well.â
âObviously. Now hurry up before I fall asleep standing.â
He shook his head affectionately but obeyed, pulling on a jacket and grabbing your hand as the two of you slipped into the cool, quiet hallway.
The city was calmer at night, humming with distant traffic and the occasional passing car. The streetlights painted the sidewalk in soft gold, and a slight breeze rustled through the trees.
Chan walked beside you with his hands shoved into his pockets, but his fingers kept brushing against yours like he needed the reassurance of your presence even without holding you outright. You nudged your shoulder against his.
âTalk to me,â you said quietly. âEven if itâs not everything.â
He exhaled, breath fogging in the cool air. âI just⊠I keep thinking about the album. Whether people will like it. Whether I did enough. Whether Iâm enough.â
Your heart squeezed. You slowed your pace so you could turn and look at him directly. âChan.â
His eyes flickered to you, unsure.
âYou always give more than enough,â you said firmly. âBut you also carry more than you should.â
Chan looked down at his shoes. âSomeone has to.â
You tightened your grip on his hand. âNot alone.â
He didnât respond, but the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles told you he heard you.
When you reached the convenience store, its neon sign buzzed quietly, casting pink and blue light across the pavement. The inside was nearly empty just an older man restocking shelves and the cashier scrolling through something on his phone.
The automatic doors slid open, letting out a faint chime.
Chan breathed in deeply, shoulders lowering an inch. âI havenât done something like this in forever.â
âWhat, buy snacks? You, the king of buying snacks for everyone?â
He laughed lightly. âOkay, but not like⊠late-night escapes.â
You grinned. âWell, lucky you. Youâre dating a professional escape planner.â
He raised a brow. âProfessional?â
âYes. Iâve escaped many things. Responsibilities. Laundry. A phone call from my aunt one time.â
That got him to genuinely laugh, loud enough that the cashier looked up briefly. Chan covered his mouth, but his eyes were brighter now.
âCome on,â you said, tugging him toward the snack aisle. âLetâs find you something that will temporarily cure existential dread.â
He bumped his shoulder lightly against yours. âThatâs a lot of pressure for a bag of chips.â
âYouâd be surprised. Chips are powerful.â
Chan wandered slowly, touching items like he was rediscovering the concept of convenience stores. You watched him grab his favorite chips, then another bag âjust in case.â He knelt to look at instant ramen like he was choosing a life partner.
When he stood up, you placed a small onigiri into his hands.
He blinked. âWhatâs this for?â
âItâs triangle-shaped joy.â
He snorted. âIs that the official product name?â
âIt should be.â
Chan shook his head but put it into the basket anyway.
At the drink refrigerators, he hesitated before reaching for a warm can of milk tea. You caught the hesitation the pause that meant he was overthinking again.
So you gently nudged the door open and grabbed one for yourself too.
His brows lifted. âYou want one?â
âNo,â you admitted. âBut you like when we drink the same thing. Makes you feel⊠less lonely, I think.â
Chan stared at you for a long, silent moment. His eyes were soft, almost glassy.
âYou do that on purpose?â he whispered.
âOf course I do. Youâre my favorite person and I want you to feel comfortable,â you said simply.
Something in him melted completely. He stepped closer, tilting his head slightly until your foreheads touched. His voice dropped to barely a breath.
âYouâre⊠everything I donât deserve.â
You cupped his cheeks, thumbs brushing the warmth that was rising there. âFirst of all, rude. Second of all, you deserve love, Chan. You deserve rest. You deserve to be cared for.â
He closed his eyes, breathing you in.
âThank you,â he murmured. âReally.â
The walk back was slower.
He held your hand fully this time, swinging it lightly between you like a kid. The bags crinkled as he carried them, but his steps were more relaxed, his breathing deeper. The night didnât feel so heavy anymore.
âFeeling any better?â you asked.
Chan nodded. âYeah. A lot, actually.â
ââGood because I hate seeing you upsetââ
His expression softened at your words and he shook his head in acknowledgement and you continued walking in comfortable silence.Â
The two of you reached your apartment building and climbed the stairs quietly. When he unlocked the door, the familiar smell of the coffee you brewed earlier that moring welcomed you in. Soft and warm. Home.
Chan set the bags on the coffee table and stretched, hoodie lifting slightly to reveal the hem of his t-shirt. He caught you staring and smirked sleepily.
âWhat?â he teased.
âNothing. My boyfriend is cute. Thatâs all.â
His ears turned pink. âYou canât say things like that when Iâm this tired. My heart canât handle it.â
You opened the milk tea and handed it to him. âThen you better get some rest soon.â
He took it, sipping it slowly, then nodded toward the couch. âCome here?â
You sat beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on top of your head.
âYou know,â he murmured, âI always try to be strong for everyone. The members. The fans. The company. Everyone counts on me to keep it together.â
âI know,â you said softly.
âBut with youâŠâ His thumb traced circles on your hand. âI donât have to pretend. I can just⊠be tired. Be human.â
You turned toward him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. âYou can always be human with me.â
Chan set the milk tea down and pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you in a full-body hug that felt like he was exhaling weeks of tension. He buried his face in your shoulder and breathed you in slowly, deeply.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet settled comfortably between you.
Eventually, he pulled back slightly just enough to look at you. His eyes searched yours with an intensity that wasnât heavy or worried anymore, but grateful, tender.
âI love you,â he said quietly, without hesitation.
You smiled. âI love you too.â
He leaned in and kissed you softly, slow, warm, the kind of kiss that said thank you more than words could. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours again.
âReady for bed?â he whispered.
âYeah or I might fall asleep kissing you.â
Chan smiled, the gentle kind only you ever got to see. He took your hand again, guiding you back to the bedroom. The mattress was still warm from earlier, blankets slightly tangled. Chan climbed in first and held the blanket up for you.
Once you settled against him, his arm wrapped around your waist, hand sliding to rest over your stomach. His breathing steadied almost immediately.
âThank you for the store run,â he murmured sleepily against your hair. âI think it helped more than I realized.â
âGood,â you whispered. âNext time you canât sleep, weâll do it again.â
He chuckled softly. âDangerous. I might start pretending I canât sleep just to go on late-night adventures with you.â
âGood. Then weâll buy more triangle-shaped joy.â
Chan huffed out another laugh, quieter this time as his exhaustion finally caught up with him. His grip on you loosened just enough to be comfortable, but not enough to let you go.
âStay,â he whispered again, even though you werenât moving.
âIâm here,â you assured.
He exhaled, long and peaceful, and you could feel the moment he finally slipped into sleep muscles relaxing, heartbeat slowing against your back.
You closed your eyes too, smiling to yourself as the warmth of him lulled you back into rest.
Tonight, at least, he wasnât carrying the world alone.
Taglist: @lixies-favorite-cookie @velvetmoonlght @flippedccc @ladybugbriana @petvlss @lezleeferguson-120 @sweettee2 Comment if you want to join my taglist :)
Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does not apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.Feel free to reblog. :)Â
That boy is corrupt...could you teach him to love me, maybe?
Summary: In winter 2007, heartbreak and harsh weather led you to a dive bar in Hawkins, Indiana. You'd planned to wait out the storm with a drink or two, but the older, tattooed owner finds his own way to mend your broken heart.
WC: 2.7k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, age gap (Eddie is 41 and Reader is 22), unwanted male attention (not from Eddie), Billy Hargrove is my go-to antagonist, drinking (no intoxication), corruption kink, some choking, Eddie Munson has a big dick, takes place in 2007.
Divider credit to @saradika-graphics
Rain poured down in buckets as lightning cracked along the ink-colored sky. Your wipers flew across the windshield with such a voracity that you thought theyâd snap clean off.Â
It felt like youâd been driving forever, crawling along backroads and highways alike. Traffic came to a halt once the storm clouds rolled in; since then, youâd been searching for shortcuts to Indianapolis.Â
The moment youâd passed a sign welcoming you to Hawkins, the rain went from a steady thrum to torrential. And after just a few minutes of trying to battle the weather, you conceded and pulled into the first parking lot you saw.Â
You weighed your options. You could sit in your car and try to ignore how the tiny sedan shook with each thunderclap, or you could make a run towards the bar, its neon sign screaming OP N. The âEâ had almost burnt out, flickering briefly before going dark again.Â
Your clothes became stuck to your skin just in the few seconds it took you to dash inside. The grating squeak of the front door thwarted your attempt to sneak in inconspicuously.
It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, paltry even by dive bar standards. A small crowd of men gathered by the pool table, idly rubbing chalk on their cues and grunting about work. Something about them gave you the creeps, and you averted your eyes as quickly as you could.Â
âHey!âÂ
One of the men called out to the bartender. Like you, she seemed to be trying her best to ignore them, but she looked up with a blank expression.Â
The man smirked back at her. ââNother round. And maybe smile if you want a good tip.â
The bartender rolled her eyes. âYou havenât tipped a day in your goddamn life, Hargrove.â
âOh, heâll give you a tip,â chortled another of the men.Â
A poor excuse for air conditioning managed to bite at your skin; instinctively, you crossed your arms over your chest. Unfortunately, this caught their de facto leaderâs attention.Â
The guy that the bartender called âHargroveâ sauntered over. A cigarette dangled from his lips. âWell, well,â he drawled. âWho do we have here? Donât think Iâve seen you around before.â
âJust passing through,â you mumbled, praying that the stranger would take the hint and leave you alone.Â
To your chagrin, his smirk only widened. âA tourist, huh? Well, allow me to show you around.â
âNo, thanks.â
A shudder shook you to your core as he pressed his palm to the small of your back. It drifted lower, grazing your ass, before traveling back up again.Â
âCâmon. Wouldnât want a pretty little thing you getting lostââ
A door slammed suddenly somewhere off to the left of the bar. You jumped, your heart leaping into your throat.Â
A man stalked out from a darkened hallway. One tattooed hand clamped down on Hargroveâs shoulder, yanking him from where he stood leering.Â
âGet the fuck out,â the man growled.Â
Hargrove scoffed. âCâmon, Munson; I was just talking to herââ
âConversationâs over,â Munson snapped. He clenched his fists, the veins in his forearms prominent and angry against his inked skin. âGo home to your wife.â
Hargrove opened his mouth to protest, but a single steely-eyed glare from the other manâMunsonâquickly shut him up. He dug into his pants pocket and produced a gold wedding band, irritatedly sliding it onto his finger as he slunk out of the bar. His cronies trailed behind him.
âEddie Munson. Fuckinâ freak,â one of them grumbled before slamming the door behind him.Â
âYou alright?âÂ
You nodded, not able to make eye contact with the handsome man who had come out of the shadows.Â
âHe didnât hurt you, did he?â
You shook your head no, and Eddieâs shoulders instantly sagged with relief.Â
âGood.â His hands flexed as he glanced at the front door. âHeâs a piss-poor excuse for a man. Acting all tough; meanwhile, heâs forty years old with a thirteen-year-oldâs mustache.â
Laughter broke through your wall of nerves. âYou think he uses Rogaine on his upper lip?â
Eddie snorted. âIf he does, he should get a refund, because that shit ainât working.â He tapped the counter and held up two fingers to the bartender, who filled up two glasses with whatever lukewarm beer was on tap.Â
âIs he always such a skeez?âÂ
âOh, yeah.â Eddie confirmed. He kept his gaze trained on you even as he drank. âKnew him back in high school. He was always running around with the rest of the assholes on the basketball team, trying to see who could get the most puâgirls.â Color stained his cheeks. Â
You bit back a grin. âIâm guessing you werenât on the basketball team?â
Eddie looked offended that youâd even suggested such a thing. âAbsolutely not. I ran the D&D club. They wanted nothing to do with my âsatanic ways.ââ He waggled his ringed fingers.Â
You lifted your brows. âD&D? Isnât that, like, kinda nerdy?â
He clutched at his heart and stumbled off of the barstool dramatically. âSweetheart, you wound me. I wasnât deemed Hawkinsâ Number One Devil Worshiper just to be labeled a nerd.â
You tried to ignore the way your stomach flipped when he called you Sweetheart.Â
Eddie shook his head as he took a seat once again. âHargrove and those guys could do whatever they wanted, but I was âcorrupting the youthâ by playing a fantasy game.â
âIâd rather be corrupted by you than spend a second with Hargrove.â
Eddie choked on his beer. âChrist,â he muttered. âCanât just say shit like that. I donât even know your fuckinâ name.âÂ
You told him, and he stuck out his hand for you to shake. His palm was callused but inviting, and you let your fingers linger for a beat longer than necessary.
âAnything else, Eddie? Otherwise Iâm gonna head home,â the bartender called out, already slinging her purse over her shoulder.
âNah, just drive safe. Donât forget to take your tips.â He gestured to the jar on the counter, half-full with dollar bills.
âI have to get back on the road, too,â you blurted out.
Eddie squinted, peering out the rain-streaked window. âItâs coming down in buckets. Are you going far?â
You took a swig of the beer and licked away the foam left on your lips before answering. âJust Indianapolis.â
He barked out a laugh. âYeah, not tonight you arenât.â
âI need toââ
âThereâs a Motel 6 nearby. Cheap but clean, and thereâs always a vacancy.â Eddie chuckled. âSmall town, yâknow?â
But you werenât listening. You had to get to Indianapolis tonight. Your cell phone was burning a hole in your pocket, the text message sent to you by your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) permanently seared into your brain.Â
this isnt wrkng. the dstnce is 2 hrd. sry.Â
Youâd called three times; each time, the call was forwarded to voicemail.Â
No answers; just the end of a year-long relationship and the empty promises he swore heâd keep.Â
That only left one option: driving up to IU Indianapolis and knocking on the door to his dorm room.
âI said, I need to go.â
Eddie could practically read the story from the forlorn look on your face. âHeartbreak, huh?â He sighed when you nodded. âListen, I donât know what happened, but whoever this person is, theyâre not worth you risking your life out there.â
âBut I love him.â Your voice was pathetically quiet, and you took another gulp of beer to quell the embarrassment building inside of you. âAnd I thought he loved me, too.â
Eddie was silent for a long moment. âIâm not the most romantic guy out there,â he began, shooting the bartender a pointed look when she laughed, âbut anyone who makes you question their love for you probably isnât your âsoulmate,â or whatever.â
You sighed and bit on your thumbnail before relenting. âMy best friend said the same thing.â
âWell, there ya go.â He gave you an easy grin. âNow itâs two against one.â
Leaning your forearm on the counter, you let your head hang in defeat. âSheâs not always so brilliant,â you mumbled. âHer next suggestion was for me to get over him by getting under someone else.â
âAlso not a bad idea.â He slid closer to you, warmth radiating off of his body. The tantalizing scents of nicotine and cologne only made him harder to resist. âGot anyone in mind?â
His lips were right there. Teasing you. Begging you to lean forward and kiss them.
Instead, you nodded slowly, never taking your eyes off of his mouth.
Eddieâs thumb brushed over your cheek. âDoes he own a shitty bar in the middle of nowhere and think youâre the most gorgeous thing heâs ever seen?â
Another nod, this one cut off by his lips pressing against yours. He tasted of beer and cigarettes, and you moaned into his mouth the moment your tongue felt his.Â
Your fingers tangled in Eddieâs frizzy curls, nails meeting scalp as he ducked his head into the crook of your neck. Pain mixed with pleasure as his tongue laved over where the coarse hairs of his beard scratched your skin.Â
Denim met denim as he tugged you onto his lap; or maybe youâd moved. It was difficult to keep track of your own body when you were hyperfocused on his. It took all of your willpower not to bend down and bury your face against the slight softness of his tummy; still, you couldnât help but find the hem of his t-shirt and start pulling it upwards.
âWhoa.â Eddie nearly toppled backwards off of the stool. The heat of humiliation washed over you, and you immediately had an apology perched on your tongue. He noticed your embarrassment, quickly correcting himself. âNo, Sweetheart, âs okay. I like where this is going. Just, uhâŠâ he pointed at the window, âdonât want anyone getting a free show, yâknow?â
He glanced around the empty bar as though assessing for the best place to fuck you before finally deciding on his office. Papers littered his desk, but he shoved them aside, littering the floor with various bills and contracts. He kicked a swivel chair out of the way, its upholstery worn down to the springs. It collided into the wall with a soft thud.
âCâmere,â he ordered, hooking a finger into one of your belt loops and kissing your jawline. ââS not exactly the penthouse at the Ritz-Carlton but, uh, itâll do.â
You giggled despite your nerves, letting your hands rest on the meat of his biceps.
Eddie shook his head. âYouâre fucking laughing,â he growled, sucking a harsh bruise into your neck. âIâm bricked up in my own goddamn office and youâre fucking laughing.â When he pulled back, a wolfish smile stretched across his face.
âWhat?â
âJust figured out the perfect way to shut you up.â With that, Eddie spun you around so you faced the now-bare desk. Your palms splayed out in front of you, bracing your trembling body.Â
Sex for you wasnât always making love, but it had never been like this. There was usually a bed involved, maybe a couch, and had always been preceded by a date or two.Â
Never this. Never with a stranger in the backroom of a dive bar.Â
Eddie grabbed your neck, applying the smallest amount of pressure that still managed to shoot fireworks through your bloodstream. Not even his metal rings against your throat could cool you down. Â
âIâm going to make you feel so good that you canât remember your own name, let alone his.â Eddieâs breath tickled the shell of your ear. There was no hiding the disgust in his voice when he mentioned your ex.Â
There were only the sounds of belt buckles clanking open and zippers being undone, followed by the rush of cold air as Eddie bent you over and yanked down your jeans and panties. His middle finger snuck between your legs and easily found your clit.
âThere we go.â He let out an amused huff when your ass instinctively grazed his boxer-clad cock. âWait, Sweetheart. Gotta make sure youâre good first.â
You whimpered impatiently, desperate for him to be inside you.
âI know, honey,â he cooed. His finger drifted to where you were currently clenching around nothing and finally filled you. âIs that what you needed?â
âMhm. S-SoâŠso good.âÂ
Words evaded you as Eddie plunged his thick finger in and out. He started at a torturously slow pace, curling his finger just so to reach your sweet spot. His other hand rested on the small of your back.Â
âWantâŠwantâŠâ
âI know,â he repeated, tone just as soothing. âCan you turn around, Sweetheart?â
You needed a second to gather your thoughts, to get your body to cooperate with your brain. But no amount of time would have prepared you for what you saw.
Eddie was big. Not impossibly so; not like pornstar penises that could have doubled as impalement tools. But Eddie was certainly well-endowed. The tip of his cock, red and leaking pre-cum, laid flush against the weathered cotton of his t-shirt.Â
There was no hiding his smug grin, though it admittedly took you a minute to stop gawking at his length and look at his face.
âYeah. Thatâs why I need to make sure youâre good first.â He stroked himself gratuitously, groaning as his thumb rubbed over the sensitive tip. âFuck, bend over for me again.â
âObedientâ wasnât a sufficient description. You followed Eddieâs orders like your life depended on it.Â
He kept his left hand wrapped around his cock while he fingered you with the other. His pace was quicker this time; he was no longer able to pretend that he wasnât on the precipice of falling apart.
The feeling of him entering you was unlike anything youâd ever experienced. He gripped your hips fervently, swearing under his breath as he gradually pushed himself inside.
âMmm, fuck,â he muttered. âYouâre so tight. Feelsâdo you feel good?â
You nodded, but that didnât satisfy Eddie. He clasped your neck once more, squeezing tightly enough for you to feel it but not enough to cause any real pain, as the rest of his body stilled.
âWords, Sweetheart. Yes or no.â
âYes. God, yes.â
He chuckled, his body humming against yours. âNot âGod,â baby girl. Jusâ me.â He inhaled sharply when you laughed with him. âShit, you get tighter when you laugh.â
You saw stars as he thrusted inside you, following a relentless rhythm.
âNever felt like th-this before,â you stammered, gripping the desk as best as you could with sweat-slicked hands.
âYeah?â Eddie squeezed your throat. âNever been fucked this good before?â
You shook your head pathetically.Â
His thrusts got harder, more frenzied. âAnd youâll never be fucked this good again.â The hand around your neck traveled down to your clit, smearing it with your own arousal while he frantically rubbed it.
You ground your ass into his snapping hips, chasing a high that he was more than eager to provide.Â
âYâgotâŠperfect pussy,â Eddie slurred. âPretty girlâŠperfect pussyâŠgonna ruin me.â He grunted in a combination of frustration and desire. âSâposed to be ruining you, Sweetheart.â
âRuin me.â You arched your back to take him deeper. âPlease. Please, Iâm so closeââ
He flicked his middle finger over your clit as he slammed into you again. You let out a moan, not caring that Eddie hadnât locked the front door. Anyone could walk in and hear you, but your sole focus was coming all over Eddieâs cock.
âOh, Eddie!â
Eddie spilled into you as you cried out his name, riding out his orgasm with a few final, sloppy thrusts. His labored breaths were in time with yours, your bodies once again in sync.
Eddie pulled out with a groan, wiping the tip of his cock on a random napkin before pulling up his pants.Â
âTell me,â he finally managed, âthat youâre not going back to that shitty ex of yours.â
You were quiet for a beat too long. Eddie reached into his back pocket, producing a business card. The edges were soft and worn, the white background tinged with gray, but the text was still legible.
EDDIE MUNSON
OWNER/MANAGER
317-555-8604
âCall me when he breaks your heart again. Iâll take care of you.â
Warnings. NSFWđ MATURE content, smelly college au nerdjo, HE SUCKS HIS OWN DICK, childhood friends, accidental breeding, virginity loss, voyeurism, idiots in love. Part 1 but you donât rly need to read it.
âHoney,â SelfSucker!Gojoâs mom pauses her conversation with your mother to call to you from the stove, âwill you go get Toru down here?â
A few minutes ago his mother called for him to come down from his room because dinner would be ready soon but he hasnât, despite shouting that heâd be down soon.
âThat boy is always playing that animal game on his cpu,â she tuts, making your mother chuckle. You think sheâs datedly referring to Digimon, but youâre no expert on things like thatâ not compared to nerdy Satoru anyway.
Every Friday since you were toddlers, you, Satoru, and your mothers eat dinner together while your fathers go off to wherever. They tell their husbands itâs to catch a break every now and then, but itâs really for your mothers to gossip and drink wine all night while the âkids,â you and Satoru, keep each other company. Many, many Friday dinners later, and their house feels like a second home to you.
You pause your movie and stand from the couch, humming a polite affirmation to the request. You know dinner likely wonât be ready anytime soon since both moms always get distracted, but you still heed her call and begin walking up the stairs to relay the message.
You pass pictures hung along the walls as you make your way down the hall, some portraying Satoruâs little family along the years, a few of your mothers, and too many of you and Satoru as children.
Satoruâs door. The âNo boys allowedâ sign that 15 year old Satoru deemed hilarious and profoundly clever still hangs crooked on his door. The idea of a girl other than yourself and his mother ever crossing this threshold voluntarily is a stretch, considering his less than subtle lack of hygiene and messy tendencies.
You donât knock before opening his door since heâs âmore often than notâ slouched over his bright monitor and keyboard with bulky headphones on full blast.
The stuffy, unventilated air of his room fans your face as you swing the door open and begin your automated message, âYour mom wantsââ
You stall immediately, your bored eyes widen drastically when you catch sight of Satoru, whoâs not in his usual spot at his desk.
Heâs immediately and visibly panicked at your sudden presence. His reaction plays in less than half a second: His desperate tongue snaps back into his mouth, retreating from its endeavor at uniting with his sensitive tip. Owlish blue eyes lock on you, fast, as his brows knit together to show off utter embarrassment. You gasp sharply, surprise still stuck on your face, when he falls off of his bed and onto the floor awkwardly.
âY-Youâ knock! You have toâyou have to knock!â Heâs shouting at you as he poorly recovers from his tumble, making sure to shove his sweatpants back up before standing up with a stumble.
His panicked, confrontational voice directed at you makes you feel defensive and just as frenzied.
âSorry! Sorâ I never knockâ I neverâ sorry!â you defensively squawk, yanking the door shut mid yap as if giving him privacy now will do anything.
The sign on his door topples to the ground with the strength behind your swing. Your face burns dangerously hot as you scramble to pick it up and fumble it back onto the hook before racing away from his room.
You almost trip hurrying down the stairs and sink into the couch, seeking solace in a throw blanket you pull up to your nose with your knees to your chest.
âHe coming?â
You almost choke. Your eyes snap away from the tv screen that feels much further away than before, over to Satoruâs mother whoâs looking at you in question, casually.
âW-What?â
She cooly repeats her question, âis Toru coming down?â
âOhâ yeah, heâsâ I think so,â you nod aimlessly before turning back to stare blankly at the tv. You honestly arenât sure if heâs coming down or not, considering.
Satoruâs mother nods and returns her attention to plating dinner with your mother.
A few minutes later, you gulp as you hear muffled footsteps coming down the stairs.
You donât dare to openly glance at him as Satoruâs mom acknowledges his arrival.
âLook who finally decided to bless us with his presence,â you hear her tease him rhetorically, followed by your mother asking Mrs. Gojo what serving utensils she wants to use.
Satoru doesnât say anything as your moms chatter on, but you can assume based on the noise that heâs grabbing some glasses for drinks to help out.
Youâre just so distracted with the movie you absolutely are watching, that you definitely donât notice when Satoruâs heavy gaze focuses in on the side of your head. Thatâs what youâre pretending anyways. You donât even have to look to feel it, but itâs brief, like heâs hoping you donât notice his peek. Itâs half of a second of observation that affirms to him that you are just going to ignore and âforgetâ what you saw.
Dinner is filled with your mothers cackling to each other about some reality romance tv show while you avidly avoid any possible eye contact with Satoru. Thereâs a clear, awkward tension in the air as you sit beside him and poke at your food, but your moms arenât perceptive enough of your dynamic to notice.
You help out after dinner, picking up plates to take to the sink and Satoruâs already making an obvious move to go back upstairs.
âNo, no, no you donât mister,â Mrs Gojo chides, making him pause and slowly turn his head to look at his mother with the lenses of his bulky glasses gleaming, blocking the sight of his eyes. âHelp out and then you two can watch your little movie.â
She says it as though Satoru was just trying to skip cleaning so he can watch a movie with you sooner, when that canât be further from the truth and you both know it. You havenât held up that- movie after dinner- tradition since you were twelve. Satoru grumbles to himself, but inevitably starts helping.
Eventually, one thing leads to another and youâre washing dishes while Satoru dries beside you. Other than the running water, you can distantly hear your motherâs boisterous laughing and loud chatter coming from upstairs in Mrs. Gojoâs room where they drink wine and girl talk every Friday after dinner.
As you wash a plate, you notice the suds are growing less and less. You need more soap. You glance over at the bottle thatâs closer to Satoru than yourself.
âCould youââ
He almost drops the bowl in his hand. âI wasnât doing anythingâ ! I justâ I just had a scratch on my back andâ and I know what it looked like but it wasnât anything weird or something.â Satoru interrupts you, nervously like the defense has been waiting at the tip of his tongue. His hands are shaking where they grip the drying cloth, an incessant squeak can be heard throughout his speech from drying the bowl thatâs already much too dry, frantically.
You pause washing to blink up at him.
âUhââ you clear your throat and point to the bottle, âI was gonna ask if you could hand me the soap.â
A beat of silence. His cheeks are flaming pink and his lanky torso is tight, straighter than his usual slouch.
âOh.â
He awkwardly wraps his long fingers around the bottle and squeezes some soap onto your sponge.
You gulp at the silence and continue washing, eyeing the few dishes you have left.
âIââ you begin, eyes locked onto the sudsy dish, âIâm sorry for justâfor just coming in without knocking. âWhatever you were doing.â
You continue.
âItâs just, I never knock. I just thoughtâ I never knock andâ fuck I donât knowâ sorry.â Youâre not trying to make an excuse but you feel the need to defend yourself after seeing what you did, like itâs your fault.
In the many years youâve known Satoru, it was never a problem when youâd barge into his room without warning. He didnât seem to care, until now. Clearly you lost the silent memo that privacy was necessary now.
He clears his throat and uses an awkward hand to shove his glasses up, instinctively. âI know. I accept your apology, but you donâtâ you donât really need to say sorry. I was just scratching my back anyways.â
You hum a quick, high-pitched affirmation, side eye flicking at him briefly. Right.
You finally finish up. Satoru awkwardly stands in place, watching you dry your hands as if heâs not sure when or how he should make his leave.
You glance at him and speak hesitantly, âWannaâ um, watch a movie?â
Youâre almost expecting socially stunted Satoru to bluntly tell you no and leave. Instead, he nods in one harsh affirmationâ like a soldier formally addressing their colonel.
âSure. Yes. I wanna.â
You huff in amusement when he doesnât make any move to lead in his own house.
His socked feet shuffle behind you until youâre plopping down onto the living room couch.
Satoru throws in the DVD thatâs worn from your past uses without having to ask you what you want to watch as you adjust to get comfortable on the sofa.
Then, he scratches the back of his head lazily as he moves towards the light switches and turns them off so the large TV is the only source of dim light fluttering over the living room. Itâs like heâs on autopilot because when you were young, youâd always beg Satoru to get up and turn the lights off as you watch your movie together so you didnât have to.
The couch dips as he sits beside you, he likely didnât even think twice about it because heâs not leaving too much space between youâ not that you mind.
Youâve practically had this movie memorized by now, and your thoughts drift to more interesting things as it drones on.
You tilt your head towards him and part your lips, just to hesitate and brush it off. You think it was subtle enough to slide past Satoruâs perception but youâre wrong.
Satoru blinks repeatedly, his gaze flickering from you to the screen and back.
âWhat?â
âWhat?â You repeat, feigning ignorance.
âYou were gonna say something,â he points out. Anyone else would get the hint and give up, but not Satoru.
You shrug, âJust thinking, I donât know.â
He angles his body to face you a bit more, his leg bending and the couch adjusts with his weight.
âAbout what?â
You exhale and glance at his obvious focus thatâs alternated completely from the movie, to you. Satoru has seen you go through your aggressive side part phase, the time you got grounded for a month at fifteen and ugly cried while you screamed for an hour, and the entire year you truly believed you were a vampire and would scream in agony any time the sun touched your skin. Heâs seen some shit, and vise versa.
Itâs not too difficult to abandon the movie and turn your body and attention towards him with intent to indulge your curiosities.
âHaveâ,â you glance at the opening of the living room that leads to the stairs where your mothers are and lower your voice a bit, âHave you actually done it before?â
âDone.. what?â He blinks at you, confused.
âYou know,â you murmur shyly, whispering the next part, âsucked your own dick.â
Satoru eyes widen and he freezes. âI- I donâtâ I donâtâwhat are youâ Iâd neverââ
You shove his oddly sturdy shoulder and your cheeks warm. âCome on, Satoru. I saw you.â
His hands protectively slap over his flustered face, glasses and all like itâs his last defensive measure. Heâs murmuring to himself, but it comes out as muffled noises. You wouldnât be surprised if he was calling you stupid defensively.
âHey.â You poke his hand but he doesnât budge.
You huff, slightly amused, and after a beat of stillness, you gently pry two of his fingers away until it uncovers an eye.
âLook, Iâm not judging you, okay?â you explain, and then shrug, âIâm just curious. Itâs not like Iâll tell anyone.â
His adams apple bobs. He slowly places his long hands into his lap.
âCuriousâ umâ about what, exactly?â His white lashes flutter as his eyes travel from his fidgeting hands to your face.
You chew on your bottom lip as your eyes flick to the side, thinking briefly.
âHave you ever succeeded?â You question eagerly and in a hushed tone.
âLikeâ it looked like,â you clear your throat, âyou couldnât reach.â
He glances over his shoulder at the entryway to the stairs to confirm youâre alone before pushing his glasses up.
âYou wonât tell anyone?â
You shake your head and pull his hand up to force his long pinky to curl around yours. He can already tell youâre trying to pinky swear the way you used to when you were kids, with kisses.
âSwear,â you say definitively before twisting your interlocked hands until his fist is in front of you. You press your soft lips against it. He stops breathing.
Satoruâs in shock until you gesture dramatically for him to hurry, snapping him out of it enough to awkwardly press his puckered lips to your hand.
You smile into his fist at the sight of your locked-in promise, noses close to brushing, and pull your hand away.
You adjust in your seat enthusiastically, scooting closer to him until your knees are brushing his as you both sit with criss crossed legs.
âNow spill.â
He nods with a swallow, scratching the side of his head.
âIt reaches,â he confirms with pink tinting his cheeks, ânot all the way, butâ enough.â
You inhale deeply while blinking, amusement and intrigue sitting on your chest as you process.
âLike yourâ uhâ tip goes in?â
His eyes flick to the left briefly. âJust about.â
âWoah,â you exhale, âyouâre flexable.â
He shrugs, âI think itâs because Iâm soâ long?â
Your brows raise and your eyes canât help but trail languidly down to his lap.
He immediately shakes his head. âNo, no, no I meant my bodyâ my back, my stomach. Not my penis.â
âOh.â You press your lips together to poorly hide your amusement and his face drops into a deeper red.
âWeâre missing the movieââ
âSo you suck on the tip or lick it?â You interrupt him curiously as if he didnât even say anything.
âUhâ sucking hurts my neck so only for half a second,â he rubs the back of his neck, âsoâ so mostly licking.â
âDoes it actually feel good?â Youâre analyzing his every facial expression, intrigue hiding a splash of arousal. Every question feels more extensive than the last, and his heart is thrashing.
Satoru abruptly drops his face into the head rest cushion beside him and groans into it. His system is going into overdrive.
You huff a laugh. Youâre not used to seeing him in this position, genuinely embarrassed having been caught in such a vulnerable state. Satoru is usually mean before heâs ever embarrassed or shy.
âIâm waiting,â you prod in a sing song voice and he slightly whines before sitting back upâ slouchingâ but still.
âDo I have to answer that?â Despite his glasses, you can tell his gaze is down and off to the side.
âAbsolutely.â You nod definitively with a proud tight- lipped smile, as if what you say, goes. Suddenly, he feels like his younger self being bossed around by you everywhere you two went.
âI donât want to,â he mutters stubbornly under his breath.
âCome on,â you whine annoyingly, pushing even closer to him until your knees are slightly overlapping his shins, âI wanna know. Itâs just me.â
âYeah, itâs just you. And youâre a girl.â
You squint at him and lean back a bit. âWhat does that mean?â
âThat this feelsâ wrongâ weirdâI donât want to be talking to you about this,â he mumbles with a hint of irritation.
âJust because I donât have a dick, doesnât meanââ
He shakes his head, immediately and cuts you off with an authoritative ânuh uh,â and you let out an amused scoff.
âWhat?â You urge him to explain, curiously. âCome on, why is it any different with me?â
âBecause youâre hot. Seriously?â He grumbles and rolls his eyes at you. âAnd you saw me trying to suck on my own penis and your face when you walked inââ he ends the sentence with a groan, face falling right into his hands.
Honestly, you already thought he was a little weird before you caught him self sucking, but youâd never admit that and potentially hurt the smelly, awkward boy for no reason. You certainly didnât know he cared what you thought of him, considering heâs usually unapologetically himself. Apparently, he does care what his childhood friend thinks.
âWe all do weird things sometimes, that doesnât make you weird.â
He shakes his head, face still shoved into his hands. âNot you.â
You huff through your nose, âI didnât know you had so many opinions about me, Satoru.â
âI donât. Itâs a logical analysis from a scientific perspective. I have eyes.â His tone is more nasally than normal due to his face in his palms.
âYou donât know what I do when Iâm alone. Me being weird or not is irrelevant,â you say looking down at his fluffy head thatâs a bit greasy, âI get horny too.â
In a split second, his head shootâs up desperately, almost knocking the back of it into your face on the way.
You donât think youâve ever seen Satoru sit up so straight in his life. Youâre forced to look up at him now, reminding you of how tall he really is. His glasses were left behind when he jolted up, and you can suddenly see the full intensity of his wide crystal blue eyes piercing into you with full focus.
You slightly adjust in your seat, borderline uncomfortable under that sharp gaze thatâs roaming your entire persona as if heâs a computer collecting every piece of data in your soul at a high speed. Those eyes used to scare you straight out of bed with a scream when you were small and having little sleepovers with himâ they still give you chills.
âYou do?â
You cower a bit, not expecting such a reaction to what you thought was an obvious fact. âUmâ yeah? Of course I do,â you murmur, brows furrowing.
He swallows and slides a pillow into his lap, gripping it.
You glance down at it. You blink at it. You glance back up at him.
âDid that make you hard..?â you slowly ask, voicing the obvious in hesitancy.
âA little.â
âOkay,â you pause, âwhy?â
He pushes up his glasses. âBecause I thought about your vagina being wet. And then I started speculating about what your vagina looks like. And then how it tastes, because onlineââ
âSatoru,â you quickly interrupt him, flustered, pushing a palm to his lips, âshut up.â
He blinks and nods, making you take your hand off of his lips hesitantly. He reaches under the pillow and, you assume, adjusts his boner.
âOkay,â you change the subject, shaking your head of the imaginary vision of his hardening cock, âWeâre getting off track. Donât avoid the question.â
He rubs an eye, like itâs sore from having been using his glasses for so long before they fell off.
âIt feels good enough,â he mumbles, spine already returning to his natural slouch, âbut I have to kindaâ likeâ focus.â
âOn what?â
âOn anything but the fact that Iâm sucking dick, what do you think?â
You accidentally let a snort pass, and he sighs deeply to himself.
âSorry sorry,â you shake your head, holding back a laugh.
âAre you done yet?â He murmurs in a whiny tone, eager to stop answering questions.
âHas it ever made you cum? And do you likeâ bust in your mouth? Or all over your face?â
Satoru suddenly bursts into a coughing fit, choking on his own spit and your brows furrow in concern.
âYou okay?â
He nods as he coughs, brushing off your concern as you rub his back soothingly and briefly. He gasps for air as the fit calms.
âIâm fine,â he massages his throat and glances back at the opening to the stairs, âwhy do you want to know that?â
âIâm curious.â You shrug, although youâre ignoring the subtle throb in your clit.
âCurious about my cum.â He says it like itâs more of a statement than a question.
âWhat? No,â you defend yourself quickly, âNo, I meanâ kinda butâ No, stop it. Donât twist my words.â
Now, he snickers, wiping his nose against his sleeve.
âShut up,â you shake your head with a small smile, pushing his shoulder. âAnswer, freak.â
He chews on the inside of his cheek, âItâs not like I mean to cum on my face. It just happens.â
You canât help but drop your jaw in astonishment, unable to ignore the tingle in your lower abdomen.
He whines, âstop,â as he grabs your jaw with warm, shaky fingers and manually closes your mouth.
You gulp, subconsciously grabbing a few of his fingers from your face and pulling them down to your lap to hold onto like you need it to ground you. Youâre not holding his hand, youâre more so awkwardly grabbing parts of it. Satoru glances at the connection, but you donât seem to notice that youâre even holding it because youâre so focused on his words.
âSo youâve,â you blink rapidly, âtasted your own cum?â
He chews off a chunk of his inner lip and grumbles under his breath, âYeah, I wish I didnâtâ tastes nasty.â
âLike what?â
âYou know whaââ Satoru almost slipped and confessed that youâve tasted his cum before. On that fucking strawberry donut. You tilt your head at him, wondering why he stopped talking.
He clears his throat. âSkip.â
You blink. âSkip?â
He nods, definitively. âSkip.â
You squint at him for a beat, he doesnât budge. You move on.
âOkay, How many times have you done it?â
He exhales in thought and shrugs. He holds up two fingers.
âWhy did you do it in the first place? Like what was going through your mind?â
âUhâ That my hand doesnât feel that good anymore.â He scratches his chest with the hand youâre not keeping prisoner in your lap.
You hum a short confirmation, huffing at his reasoning, and adjust his hand so itâs palm up. You silently ponder as you begin to trace his skin absently, the lines and ridges. Goosebumps race up his veiny, pale arm.
âYou know, when a guy gets tired of their hand,â you smile in amusement, âI donât think their first thought is their own mouth.â
He shakes his head. âEvery guy has done it or tried to do it at least once,â he defends, âand if they say they havenât, theyâre lying.â
You giggle and he canât help but breathe a little laugh with you.
âStill, why not just ask a girl out from class or something?â You continue to trace down his long fingers.
He snorts loudly and wipes his nose against his sleeve again. âYeah, right.â
You glance up at him with furrowed brows, âHuh? Iâm serious. Why not?â
He sniffs and shrugs, âI dunno. Whenever Iâm around, they just..â he trails off.
You blink. âThey just what?â
He looks down at your fingers trialing his palm. âGo away from wherever I am.â He doesnât seem bothered, just stating facts.
You hum, tongue prodding your teeth in thought for a beat. You imagine it has something to do with his smell, his unkempt appearance, and honest-to-a-fault demeanorâ heâs unapproachable. Even youâre guilty of this too, and you know it.
He continues in the face of your silence. âIâm not stupid, okay? I can tell girls donât like me, I justâ I donât know why.â
An opportunity arises.
âMaybe,â you place his hand back down and coincidentally into your lap. He tries not to react to the fact that his palm happened to land on top of your clothed, warm inner thigh, âMaybe, I could help you with thatâ I mean, if you want.â
He blinks at you. âHelp me withâ help me with girls?â
You shrug. âYeah, why not. Girls.â
Heâs silent for once with his eyes trained down to your lap, and you tilt your head at his hesitancy.
âIf youâre so desperate that you literally shove your own dick in your throat then what do u have to lose, huh?â Youâre teasing him, clearly getting off on this new advancement in your âfriendship.â His face jolts into the human embodiment of an exclamation point.
He explodes, âIt doesnât even reach my throat, stupidâ I donât shove anything down my throat. I knew I shouldnât have told you!â
You canât hold back the laughter that bursts out of you before he even finishes speaking. You clasp your hand over your mouth but it continues to spill out. Satoru refuses to take his hand off of your inner thigh, even despite the embarrassing topic of conversation, because game is game, but he does use the other to cover his one of his hot ears because he just knows theyâre probably the deepest shade of red.
âHow exactly are you going to help me?â
Just as Satoru grumbles the question, both of your fathers waltz in. âHey kids.â
Satoru jumps in place like heâs been caught, ripping his hand away from your thigh so dramatically that it makes each of your fatherâs brows quirk. You hadnât even heard them open the front door.
You hide an amused smile at Satoruâs reaction and rise to your feet.
âYou ready to go?â Your father asks, and you nod as Satoruâs father ruffles his sonâs hair briefly in greetings. Though you just live next door, you still like to walk back with your dad.
As your father walks over to the front door, knowing your mother will likely stay longer, Satoruâs father walks upstairs to greet his wife. You bend down to whisper into Satoruâs ear.
âIâll come over next Friday when my classes end.â You flick his forehead with a teasing grin and he rubs the injury with a grimace as you walk away. âBye!â you shout just before his front door slams shut behind you.
Friday. 3:05 pm.
You let yourself into the Gojo front door with the key copy you received years ago.
Mrs. Gojo chirps, âOh hi honey! Toru and the others are upstairs,â as you pass her to get to the stairs.
You pause at the bottom of the stairs and blink at her. âOthers?â
She hums and nods her head with a smile before continuing to sort through her documents at the kitchen table.
You curiously climb the stairs and the closer you get to Satoruâs door, the sounds under it grow louder. Definitely more voices than just Satoruâs, as well as the loud music of a video game playing.
You stop yourself before you just barge in, again, and choose to knock instead.
Satoruâs voice answers your knock. âWe donât need anymore snacks, mom! We have chips andââ
You push open the door and the sight of you, instead of his mother, makes him shut his mouth.
Satoru and two other fellow college boys sit on the carpeted floor, facing his flatscreen hanging on the wall, playing some kind of mortal kombat style game with their sides to you. Bags of chips, drinks, video game cd cases, and controllers litter the floor around them.
Satoru is the only one looking at you while the other boys mash their controllers with focus on the game as their characters fight against one another.
Satoru pushes his glasses up instinctively as he says your name, even though theyâre already pressing deeply against his face. âWhat are you doing here?â
Your name in Satoruâs mouth makes the boys turn their heads to look at you. Their jaws drop at the sight of a girl.
You give the- blunt as ever- Satoru a look and sigh. âI told you last Friday that Iâd be coming over next Friday. Itâs next Friday.â
âOh yeah,â he scratches the back of his head. âOkay, come in then.â
You step inside before closing the door behind you.
âYou gonna introduce me or what?â you ask as you drop your bag onto the floor and sit. Theyâre in a half circle; Satoru faces you while the other two are half turned towards you and half on the tv.
âYeahâ okay,â he says awkwardly. He gestures at the long, jet black haired one sporting a very uncoordinated, greasy bun on his head. âThis is Suguru.â
Suguru peeks at you while continuing to expertly mash buttons on the controller. âHi,â he says in a tone that seems naturally soft.
Satoru gestures at the blonde one with a long side part covering half of his face next. âThatâs Kento.â
Kento looks at you and stops playing to raise his hand briefly in greetings.
You give them a polite smile. âNice to meet you.â
They both seem a bit geeky, exactly the type you expected Satoru to be friends with. They probably met playing an online game or something. Thereâs a very specific musky smell in this room.
âSo,â Suguru begins teasingly as he concentrates on the game, âshe your girlfriend, Gojo?â
Kento scoffs lowly at the idea.
âNope,â Satoru says freely, throwing a chip into his mouth to rudely chew while he speaks, âsheâs lived next door since we were like two and our moms are friends.â
âHave you guys kissed?â Suguru easily questions before taking a sip of his soda while his other hand continues to operate his controller.
âNo way in hell,â Kento answers the question meant for Satoru in a matter of fact way, âGojo kissing a girl like that is ridiculous.â Kento glances at you briefly.
Your brows raise and you huff to yourself. You almost expected them to be shy and quiet but theyâre talking about you like youâre not right in front of them. You can tell they donât have bad intentions, theyâre just a bit socially unorthodox.
âActually,â you butt in casually, reaching over to snatch a chip from the bag in front of Satoru, âwe kissed when we were six.â
Suguru and Kento âooâ simultaneously without taking focus from their game, slightly monotoned and unfazed.
âHey, youâre a girl,â Suguru murmurs, âWhat's it like being able to see boobs any time you want? Does it ever get old?â
The chip making its way into Satoruâs mouth delays and falls to the floor as his eyes lock on you.
âYou canât just ask a girl about her boobs five seconds after meeting her.â Kentoâs tone is judgmental but you can tell heâs just as curious if youâll answer as the others are, just better at hiding it.
You take a deep breath. âItâs okay. Ummâ the boring answer is Iâm pretty used to them, theyâre just part of my body. But, I wonât deny that half the time I pass a mirror in my house I lift my shirt and look at them. I think every girl does.â
âReally? You flash yourself?â Satoru questions, flabbergasted at this information. The other boys completely desert their controllers and tilt their bodies to face you with criss crossed legs and a matching ring of Cheeto-type dust around their mouths.
You shrug.
âWhatâs it like seeing a dick all the time?â you counter and pop a chip into your mouth.
âGross, probably.â Suguru says, making you chuckle.
All of their eyes comically trail down to your chest at the same timeâ as if you canât literally see them do it.
âYouâre so lucky,â Satoru murmurs.
âDo youââ Kento clears his throat, ânevermind.â
Suguruâs mouth opens and closes, like heâs hesitating to say something.
You sigh. âGet it over with. Come on.â
Satoru blinks up at you, finally breaking his eye contact with your tits. âWhat?â
âAsk your questions, itâs fine. Hurry up.â
Their eyes light up like dominos.
âWe canât justââ Kento begins, as the voice of reason, but is cut off by Suguru who doesnât give a fuck.
âDo your nipples get hard when youâre horny?â Suguru asks eagerly, not wasting a moment.
âThey usually just react to cold temperatures, but sometimes when I get a tingle or something, they get hard, sure.â
Satoruâs mouth hangs open, mouth-breathing. Kento gulps and Suguru breathes out a âsick.â
âDoesâ umâ does it feel good when they get sucked on?â Kento timidly asks, a pink tint to his cheeks. He keeps his head tilted down a bit, a shy habit, but heâs still staring at your chest with the eye thatâs not covered by his bang.
You canât help but slightly grin in amusement. âDepends on the girl and her sensitivity. But yeah, Iâd say it does. Itâs kind of comforting.â
You wouldnât be surprised if they were to drool. There are obvious tents in each of their pants.
Youâre playing the âbored, pretty girl casually answering horny, ridiculous questions like an angelâ part well but your abdomen tingles seeing Satoru use a long, veiny hand to pull at the uncomfortably tight fabric over his hard cock to adjust.
âDo you ever,â the skin between Satoruâs brows slightly pinch and his eyes flick up at you while his friends ogle your breasts, âplay with them?â
âJesus,â you snicker with amusement and tease, âyou guys are so horny.â
âYeah, do you pinch your nipples or flick them?â Suguru adds on to Satoruâs inquiry, as if he didnât even hear your remark.
âIs it possible to suck on your own nipples?â Kentoâs question follows Suguruâs quickly. Their eyes are practically swirling and you swear you can see their heads spinning.
It doesnât end there. They donât even wait for an answer between slurred questions. Youâve had to have already missed more than ten of them. You canât help but tune it out eventually, lidded eyes blinking at the ceiling as they ask every diabolical thing you could think of back to back without leaving room for a reply.
You sigh.
In one fell swoop, you yank your shirt up to your collarbones, successfully shutting them up.
Their eyes turn into large, bulging hearts that boing like a spring and their tongues roll out onto the floor while steam comes from the top of their heads.
Things like, âholy shit,â âoh fuck,â and even, âholy bazingas,â bounce through the air as your bare tits glow within their perspective.
âNo more questions,â you decide, making all of them nod eagerly. Theyâd probably agree to anything you say right now.
âWoah. Theyâre soâ theyâre so beautiful,â Satoru whines, glasses wildly crooked on his face as they all subconsciously start crawling towards you.
âI think Iâm dying,â Kento breathes before slurping a bit of drool that threatened to escape his lips. âIs this heaven?â
âMy mouth is so empty,â Suguru groans, licking and smacking his lips.
Thankfully, they stop crawling when theyâre close enough to get a better look but not so close that you can feel their breath on your skin. Itâs not hard to conclude that this is the first time theyâre seeing tits in real life.
Your lips press together as you hold back a laugh, but when your eyes meet Satoruâs face, your expression falters. He looks wrecked, pinched brows, cheeks and ears a deep red, messy glasses, wet swollen lips, and glazed eyesâ he looks sexy. Youâre apparently finding out many interesting things about yourself, ever since you saw him in armadillo mode.
âOkay, shows over.â You lower your shirt, and their heads comically tilt lower and lower until the material is covering your entire torso once again and the sides of their faces are smooshed on the floor.
Just then, a knock at Satoruâs door comes, followed by his mother asking if you guys want more snacks.
She opens the door and the two boys hop up to their feet, scrambling.
âIâ I gotta go home,â Kento says frantically before grabbing his bag and placing it over his crotch. âIt was really nice to meet you. Thank youâ umâ forâ yeah. Okay bye,â he stutters to you on his way out.
âOh yeah, me too. My mom is expecting me for dinner.â Suguru nods quickly and scrambles to follow Kento out, pulling the hem of his baggy shirt down until it covers his boner. âThanksâ youâre coolâ yeah thank you,â he says to you on his way.
Satoruâs mom looks a bit confused with a plate of apples in hand as she let them pass her to leave. âOkay, bye boys! Be safe driving home!â she shouts after them.
The front door slams behind them and she turns to you. âYou want some apples, honey?â
âOh, sure. Thanks, Mrs. Gojo,â you say politely and she smiles as she places the plate down on Satoruâs desk.
She brushes her hands together and rests them onto her hips as she stands in the doorway. âI have to say, itâs so nice to see you two together again. Just shout if you need me.â
âOkay, thanks.â Satoru has always been polite to his mother.
âOf course.â She smiles at her son before leaving, shutting the door behind herself.
You take a beat to look around his room as Satoru fixes his crooked glasses with a balled up blanket in his lap he must have grabbed when his friends were leaving. Action figures, comics, video games, the usual. It looks eerily similar to when you used to hangout with him everyday after school when you were younger.
You glance at him, you canât see his eyes clearly from this angle due to a gleam on his lenses.
âAre you thinking about how badly you want me to go so you can put your dick in your mouth again?â
âWow, that was fast,â he says bluntly and flicks something in the carpet absentmindedly, âI thought for sure itâd take a full sixty seconds before you made the first penis joke.â
âWas debating between that and a Whereâs Waldo one. Sorry, Iâll be quicker next time.â
âOh thank god,â he sarcastically says.
You obnoxiously lay back on his carpet, eyeing the ceiling as if thereâs something interesting up there.
âI didnât think youâd actually come,â he sniffles loudly, telling the whole room that he has mucus. You sit up just as quickly as you laid down.
âYeah, well,â you sigh deeply and lean back on your palms, âcouldnât abandon a friend in need, could I?â
He deadpans at you. âAnd.. why am I in need again?â
âWahhâ Iâm horny and girls hate me,â you mock his deep, blunt tone as you bring your fists to your eyes to dramatically act like youâre crying, âI have to fuck my own face to cum because my hand sucksâ wahh.â
Satoru is not amused. âSo, you came here to flash my friends and bully me.â
He pushes up his glasses. âI see your point. Iâve come to the conclusion that I can agree that what you did was very generous. Carry on.â
âOh, good.â Your sarcasm is laced with amusement. âAnyways, back to what I was saying.â
You lean over and pop another chip into your mouth.
âIâll let you fuck me.â
For a second, all that can be heard is the muffled munch of the snack in your mouth and the background music from the abandoned video game.
âWhat?â Satoru enunciates each letter in the word drastically. âWhatâ What did you just say?â
âOh sorry, when two people love each other very muchââ
âShut up,â Satoru interrupts your obvious teasing by throwing one of his plushies at you.
You catch it with a laugh and hold it in your lap like youâd asked him for it in the first place.
âAre you being serious?â He questions you hesitantly, aware of how poorly he is at speaking with and understanding women.
âMhm,â you affirm, casually with a nod.
His brows furrow and he almost looks around his own room for cameras like he must be getting punked right now.
Slowly he asks, âWhy?â
You chew on your lower lip as you hum in thought, eyes trailing the ceiling, briefly.
You land on, âI want to help you.â
He looks at you with skeptical, squinted eyes.
You sigh.
âLook,â you regard him genuinely, âall jokes aside, when I saw you doing what you were doing, and then when you were telling me why you do it in the first place, I just felt like, I donât know, I wanted to help you.â
âSo, Iâm a charity case?â He questions insinuatingly, making you sigh in slight frustration with yourself for not expressing your feelings correctly.
âNo. Itâs more likeââ you chew on your lip as you gather your thoughts, âI wanna be useful to you. Remember when we were younger and my ice cream fell on the floor because that annoying kid kept pinching me and you gave me yours? And then when I asked you why, you said that you have to take care of the people you love?â
Satoruâs eyes bulge and his lips part. âYouâre in love with me?â
You deadpan at him. âReally? Thats what you got from that?â
âYou literally just said you love me and thatâs why you want to let me have intercourse with you,â he passionately defends his conclusion, like heâs trying to show you logic.
âOh my god youâre gonna make me say it,â you sigh to yourself, âFine. Of course I love you Satoru, Iâve loved you since I was like five. Iâm not confessing my love for you, okay? Itâs like a childhood friend love, likeââ
Satoru interrupts you quickly with a long pointed, accusing finger. âDonât you dare say family after you just said you want me to put my penis in you.â
You rub your eyes briefly in frustration with your pointer finger and thumb. âMy point is, I care about you and I donât want you to suffer with a hard dick. I have your solution between my legs, so, here.â
âNo,â Satoru immediately denies, âIntercourse is a two person activity where both parties have a desire for it. I donât want you to just give me your vagina to use like a fricken fleshlight because you feel bad for me.â âNo matter how much he might want to.
Your brows raise and your speak slowly. âYouâre worried that I donât want it?â
âObviously?â He looks at you like youâre stupid.
âSatoru, thereâs a reason Iâm not just offering you a handjob,â you huff and shake your head, amused that heâs worried about you, âI want it.â
âYou do?â He asks you like youâre crazy and not even aware of what youâre saying, loudly and enunciated dramatically.
âI do,â You confirm, definitively.
âLike, youâre attracted to me?â
You squint at his overall appearance for a beat and then crawl up to him until your nose is brushing his sweaty neck, making him jerk back hesitantly, but ultimately allowing you to get way too close.
âWhat are youââ
You take a big sniff of his skin and he shuts his mouth with an alarmed expression. You take a few more inhales of different patches of skin on his neck and then sit back down, criss crossing your legs in front of him with your knees overlapping his shins like last Friday.
âYeah,â you nod absolutely, as if youâre speaking to yourself, eagerly, âI definitely want you inside of me.â What you arenât saying is that his musky smell, the one you usually avoid getting a whiff of, is now triggering a primal response within your reproductive system.
âHoly shit,â he breathes under his breath, chills racing down his spine. âYou want me inside of you.â
âAre you attracted to me, Satoru?â You repeat his question back at him, a little smile and tilt to your head.
âUm,â he picks up your hand, âdo you want to feel it?â
He tosses the blanket in his lap to the side, exposing his hard on.
âYour dick?â
âMy attraction for you,â he corrects.
You nod.
He lays your palm flat on his warm, beating chest, making your brows raise in surprise.
His heart is thumping at a steady pace, a little fast, but itâs to be expected with you so close to him.
âThis is,â you blink, âyour heart.â
He nods. His heart picks up pace and you can feel the rise and fall of his breath.
âThe blood that itâs circulating,â he uses a large hand to guide yours on a slow journey down his hard chest, âis reacting to the ventral tegmental area of my brain.â
Your eyes are locked onto his hand on top of yours, silently gasping when it reaches his tent. You donât miss the deep ridges of yummy abs on the way down either.
âAnd it sends that blood,â he lets out a barely noticeable grunt, âguh,â under his breath when your hand caresses his bulge, âhere.â
My attraction for you starts within my heart.
You canât help but let out a sharp breath, an airy, amused scoff, despite the little tingle in your own heart. âOh, wow, youâre good. I underestimated you, you little geek.â
He doesnât answer you, just gives you proud twitch at the corner of his lips. Heâs breathing heavy, hazy eyes already lidded in pleasure, simply due to your warm hand on his clothed cock.
âYouâre so hard,â you breathe as you gently squeeze around the stiff base, making him grip the carpet beside him, âYou already thinking about how itâll feel to be inside me?â
He groans, tossing his head back. âOf course I am. Can we do it now?â He looks at you with impatience and then down at your lap, âAre you lubricated?â
You grin at him, âAm I lubricated?â
âYeah, itâs a word in the dictionary, stupid.â His grumble is a little too breathy to be cruel. The insult makes you nostalgic, it was practically your assigned nickname when you were kids.
âMaybe you should try Urban Dictionary,â you tease, hand still resting casually on his bulge like its normal, âbecause wet is what us regular earthlings use.â
âOkay,â he speaks bluntly, âAre you wet?â
You shrug. âI might be.â
He squints at you. âWhat do you mean might? You have to be properly prepared before we can do this.â
âYou know what? Yeah, youâre right. And now that you mention it,â you say like a performance, âI know exactly what will âproperly prepareâ me.â
âOkay,â he says expectantly and slightly suspicious, âWhat?â
Satoru almost throws a fit when you take your hand away from his cock and lean back on your hands.
âI want you to self suck again and I want to watch.â
You must have learned that phrase online in the time youâve been apart since last Friday, but thatâs not why his face scrunches up in judgmental confusion.
âWhat? No fucking way,â he immediately denies passionately, âAre you serious?â
âI barely got to see it before,â you whine, leaning towards him with your hands up in prayer and an exaggerated pout on your face, âPlease?â
âThatâs whatâs gonna make you wet?â Heâs in disbelief.
You shrug, dropping your hands. âSomething about it is hot. Donât judge, self sucker.â
Is this what girls are into?
âYou think putting my own penis in my mouth is hot?â he asks you judgmentally, overly enunciating as to get his point across, âWhy??â
You sigh, glancing up at the ceiling in thought.
âI donât know. Something about the desperation you have to feel to do something like that,â you bite your lip and flick your gaze down at his bulging tent, âLike youâd do anything to feel the pleasure of a blowjob.â
Oh. Okay, no. Itâs just you thatâs this weird.
âI donât even know what to say right nââ he cuts his own astonished remark off, âYouâre a freak, you know that? Like youâre weird.â
You huff and shove his shoulder. âYouâre the dick sucker.â
âGetting off on watching it is worse,â he shakes his head at you, but heâs unable to hold back a flicker of a smile.
âOh câmon,â you tilt your head at him, âseeing you feel good makes me horny, doesnât that do anything to you?â
He knows you know the answer to that, if his cock jumping at your words says anything.
âThen why canât it be in your mouth and not mine?â He grumbles, trying to avoid your powerful stareâ the one where you make your eyes all big and gleamy; youâve been manipulating him with that look since you were young.
You light up seeing his resistance breaking down by the second, your words coming out quicker now.
âYou donât have to do it for a long time, I just wanna see you actually lick the tip,â you gush, as if begging at a fast pace will make him more likely to agree.
He rubs his nose against his sleeve and glances at the closed door with a sigh. âOkay.â
âYes,â you say to yourself in victory as you thrust your elbow downward with your hand in a fist. Satoru deadpans.
You stare at him expectantly with a smiling bite to your lower lip.
Satoru sniffs and nudges your knee thatâs on top of his leg. âYou have to back up a little.â
âOh,â you chirp, scooting back a tad so that your knees arenât touching.
Satoruâs awkwardly maneuvers his lanky body to lie on his back, and youâre facing his side. You stop him.
âWait, you have to actually walk me through how youâre doing this.â
He turns his head to blink at you. âYouâre such a freak. How do I know youâre not just messing with me and Iâm doing this for nothing? Iâm notââ
You sigh, sharply, and with determination, you lean down and shove your face onto his.
Your lips connect abruptly, and Satoru gasps as his hands twitch, mid air. A peck. Your lips stick together as they part, making a âchuâ sound before you begin to lay multiple dense pecks onto his. Heâs fighting to return the kisses with panicked hums, not understanding why youâre doing it but too enthralled to care.
You finish it off with one long, pressurized kiss, even shaking your head back and forth a few times to really imprint the feeling onto his nerves before pulling away just enough.
âYou kissed me,â Satoru breathes, clearly trying to process what just happened. He doesnât get far though, because you start laying wet, open mouthed kisses onto his jaw and down to his neck where you start suckling on it. Satoruâs making all kinds of hisses and gasps. His desperate hips jerk into the air instinctively in one harsh movement.
You slide your lips off after one final self indulgent lick to his protruding Adamâs apple and heâs exhaling audibly in euphoria.
âItâs not for nothing. Please show me how you do it,â you beg him in a soft tone, brows pinched. You nudge your nose into his like a cat yearning to bond, and he just melts.
He nods and lets out a shaky âokayâ as you lean back to watch with an excited smile.
He gently takes his glasses off and folds them, eyes blinking and squinting to adjust briefly.
âWhy are you taking your glasses off?â
He glances at you as he places them aside. âI donât want to get them dirty,â he explains and clears his throat.
You lick your lips and nod, enjoying the topic of conversation too much.
âItâs kinda hard to,â he grunts as he kicks off of the ground with one leg to push both over his head, âdo this part.â
Youâre sort of astonished at how heâs able to put such a long body into this position.
âUhâ Iâm gonna take my penis out now,â he glances at you awkwardly but you just nod encouragingly.
He pulls his sweatpants down enough to let his cock hang out and keep his balls and ass within the confines of the material. He places his focus on the act itself so he doesnât psyche himself out of this ridiculous situation. His true eyes are on the prize, heâd do anything to fuck your pussy.
Seeing his cock this close up is a whole nother experience compared to the panic of barging into his room and happening upon it. Itâs a light pink color, and itâs quite lengthy as it bobs over his face. It gets thicker towards the middle and up to the tip, sort of flaredâ as if itâs begging to be encased inside something. It feels as though itâs already anticipating his warm mouth.
âJustâ just a lick, right?â He asks you, face a deeper pink than his dick is.
You hum an eager confirmation and he sighs to himself in slight preparation.
He uses two hands to nudge at his back and his tip slowly reaches down to brush his lips.
He drops his jaw and hesitates to let his tongue out. But ultimately, he slowly slides it out and you can see the muscles in his tongue twitch as he gives the top side of his tip a nice, wet lapâ incidentally collecting a small dribble of pre.
âDid that feel good?â You quickly question, biting your lower lip with observant eyes.
He swallows. âA little. Can I stop now?â
âDoes sucking feel better?â You ask instead, and he releases the pressure heâs pushing into his back just a bit so he can answer you more comfortably.
âI guess, but not really, I can tell itâs my own mouth.â
âI have an idea,â you scooch in closer, âtry sucking.â
Despite this being kind of lame compared to the idea of you stimulating him instead or the promise of sex, itâs clearly entertaining you so he pushes into his straining spine again until his desperate tip greets his mouth again. Satoru has stuck his dick inside of crazier things in weirder situations just to get off, this is nothing.
He opens his mouth wide enough to allow his cock inside and sucks his lips closed around half of the tip. His white lashes softly flutter shut at the dull tingle growing through his dick.
His eyes shoot right back open when he feels a long, warm, wet sensation run across his mid shaft. You start licking at his reactive cock like an eager kitten, making that dull tingle erupt into much more as bitter pre oozes into his mouth in reaction. His wide eyes roll in pleasure once he realizes you arenât stopping and he uses his tongue to suck a little better at his cock head, unable to resist the need for more stimulation.
When your tongue starts wetly tracing the edge of his tip where it enters his mouth, even licking at his lips a little, he can feel his balls tighten up. He thinks he can handle it, hold back his orgasm, but then you latch onto the side of his upper dick and suckle.
He doesnât want to cum in his own mouth so he eases the tension his hands are putting on his back to let the tip slide out but not enough to pull his legs back and lay flat because he doesnât want to lose the pleasure your mouth is giving him. âWaitâ hng!â Iâm gonna cum!â
You hum happily and, faster than he can blink, your warm mouth is enveloping his entire throbbing tip. His abs clench and his eyebrows shoot up with tension, moaning loudly with parted lips as you slide your tongue all around his sensitive skin. Heâs never felt anything like this, itâs not even comparable.
Youâre coaxing his cum to build and build, and Satoru swears with a burst of excitement within his chest that heâs finally going to ejaculate inside of a womanâs mouth. That is, until you suddenly let his cock go with a pop and the next thing he knows, cum is shooting all over his face. His cock spasms and pleasure bursts all the way into his toes, heâs overwhelmed by it for a long blissful moment.
Pure bliss until he comes down enough to realize that warm splooge is streaking down his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin. He slowly maneuvers himself to lay flat and blinks at the ceiling for a beat. Heâs about to sit up and do the whole irritated-at-you thing, but then your thighs are suddenly on either side of his hips with only your shirt and panties on, sweatpants no where to be found, only soft bare legs. He gasps.
âThat was so fucking hot,â you groan as you quickly shove your panties to the side and ease down enough to rest your warm, wet labia against the bottom of his soft, twitching dick.
He hisses in sensitivity, hands shooting to grip your thighs to cope as he tilt his head up to look at you. Youâre a little blurry without his glasses but he can still see how flustered you look.
âThink you can get hard again?â You ask, out of breath as you begin to slowly grind your pussy against him with eager hands on his chest.
He groans in overstimulation, âOh godâ whaâ? I donât knowâ oh fuuuck.â His fingers tighten around the flesh of your flexing thighs.
âI have cum all over my face,â he groans, refusing to make you get off of him because heâd rather die, but still complaining about it.
âItâs okay,â you say quickly and lean down and begin to lick the cum off of his face casually, making him slightly grimace.
âJust grab a shirt,â he basically slurs when your licking abruptly stops and you pull back enough to look him in the face.
Your hands are on either side of his head now, hips unfortunately stopping all movement, and youâre suddenly blinking at him like youâre realizing something.
âOh my god,â you slowly express, a disbelieving smile on your lips, âyou came all over that fucking donut! I knew you were acting weird, you sick freak.â
His eyes widen and he doesnât even know what to say, you clearly recognize the taste enough to place it, so he just blurts, âWhat are you talking about?â
âWhy didnât you stop me?â You still question him with furrowed brows, not buying his feigned ignorance, âYour mom was right there!â
âI donâtâ but, you said it tasted good! And you only took one bite.â
You huff and shake your head. And then you lean down to lick a long lap up his cheek, gathering a bit of very bitter cum on your taste buds. You swallow it and press your lips to his ear, âYouâre lucky Iâm throbbing because otherwise, thereâs no way Iâd fuck you knowing that, you pervert.â
Whether thatâs a lie or not, doesnât matter, all Satoru can hear is the subtle squelch of your pussy lips rubbing against his hardening cock as you begin to grind again.
His toes curl and twitch. He breathes, âYou made me cumâ agh!â on my face, weâreâ weâre even.â
You huff and sit back up while your hips work. âFine. Weâre even.â
He brings a shaky hand over to his discarded glasses and throws them back on before yanking the hem of your shirt up enough to see your pussy.
âOhhh my goodness gracious,â his voice shakes but heâs very sturdy in his words, astounded by the sight of pretty pussy in real lifeâ especially those folds against his own penis, the folds connected to his beautiful childhood friend.
He canât help but eagerly buck his hips once, making you gasp at the direct hit to your clit and grip onto his shirt over his chest.
âYouâve never had sex before, right? Youâre a virgin?â You breathe out, humping increasing in speed.
His mouth hangs open. âNever. Mhm, yeah, virgin.â He nods quickly.
You lean in and your lips brush his as you speak. âIâm gonna be your first, baby?â you egg him on.
He whines into your mouth. âI alwaysâ I always suspected you would.â
âWhat?â You breathe in amusement, pressing a kiss to his jawline, âWhy?â
âBecause,â he moans beautifully as you suck on his earlobe, âYouâre the only girl that talks to me.â
You lean back and jut your bottom lip out into a dramatic pout. âAww, so itâs not because youâve been in love with me since we were kids? Youâre breaking my heart.â
âNo,â he hisses when his tip almost gets caught on your entrance that seems to be attempting to suck him in every time it passes by, âIâve definitely been in love with you since we were kids.â
Your hips stutter to a painful stop and you blink at him, playful expression slightly faltering. You can barely tell when Satoru is joking, the ease and blunt manner of the way he speaks doesnât help.
âWait, are you being serious?â
He sits up to lean back on his elbows and nods. âI thought you knew that.â
âHow could I know that?â you ask him like heâs an idiot, âThe most you say to me in a week is that I have something in my teeth.â
He sniffles his runny nose obnoxiously, like always. âBecause you do. And, you donât talk to me either,â he says factually and defends himself.
âThatâsâ,â you exhale sharply, reaching down to grip his base, ignoring his little âguh!â as you raise your hips a bit, âbecause we got older andâ I donât knowâ grew apart.â
You rub his head against your opening and his eyes lock onto the movement like itâs glowing gold. Drool dribbles out of the corner of his lips. âHoly shit. Itâs finallyâ ngh!â happening. Youâre finally going to have sexâ oh my godâ itâs so soft. Itâs so slimy, woah.â Heâs talking to himself like a little weirdo, but you donât mind, itâs actually creating more slick to join the rest.
You bite your lip and slowly push down against his head until it pops in with a painful little stretch.
You hiss out a strained, âFuck,â and Satoru pushes through his overwhelming desire to just moan and whine and succumb to his own pleasure like a limp fish to ask you, âAre you okay? Doesâ hahhâ does it hurt?â
You nod with a shaky exhale, eyes closed in concentration. âA little, your tip isâ mmâ almost as big as your head is.â
Youâre clearly not in enough pain to ignore an opportunity to tease him, it seems. You take a deep breath and attempt to calm your muscles.
But then, your head snaps down to make sense of the sudden stimulation against your clit to see Satoruâs long lanky fingers rubbing it sloppily. âOhâ mm!â Your abdomen and thighs clench as you grip his shirt harshly, breathing choppy.
âDoes that help? Your clitoris should ease the pain,â Satoru bluntly expresses with clear concern, focus flicking from your clit to your expression, âI read it.â
You whine and grab onto his wrist connected to the lanky fingers moving in a âdjâ motion against your ultra sensitive skin. âTryâ hahâ little circles.â
He immediately complies with upmost focus, fingertips and knuckles rotating. âLike that?â
You moan and your cunt answers his question for you, squeezing his tip nicely. Before he knows it, youâre dropping all the way down till he feels your plushy cervix kissing his slit. It feels like you just punched him in the gut with how abrupt the feeling of being enveloped whole is.
âOh god, holy shit! Youâre so wet and tight and,â heâs wailing like an animal in the jaws of a predator and heâs physically unable to stop himself from gripping the carpet harshly to ground himself, âitâs bumpy inside, the perfectâ perfect balance betweenânghâ stimulation and plushy, soft, gooeyâ ahh itâs like clouds.â
âYeah? Keep going Toru.â Youâre clearly trying to mock his ramble but your tone is anything but a tease as you sit still, cockwarming him with reactive walls.
Heâs lucky that he busted recently because he wouldnât have been able to last this long otherwise, movement or not. But youâre fighting your own battle too. Youâre so full, thereâs a pang of radiating pain pinching your cervix that refuses to stretch to make room for Satoruâs lengthy cock and youâre trying your hardest to hold on until your body adjusts the way itâs meant to.
âFuck!â You blurt after a long moment of trying to push down the feeling overwhelm, âI donât think I can do it. Itâsâ Itâs too much. It hurts.â Youâre speaking in a completely genuine way for once, not even a small teasing comment about why his dick has to be so long; he can tell youâre actually scared.
Satoru immediately sits up and grabs onto your waist, eyes flicking over your expression quickly. âIt hurts?â he repeats softly, clearly concerned and attempting to console you, âOkay, breathe. Youâre okay, Iâm here, Iâm with you, Iâve got you. Your body can stretch, itâs made to stretch for this.â
You take a deep breath and nod as he speaks, brows pinched as you attempt to hold your focus on his coos and not the invading, pulsing flesh within you.
âI can feel you twitching,â you whine, head thrown back briefly, âstop it.â
âI canât control it,â Satoru defends, using his thumbs to gently rub circles into your waist, over your shirt.
âItâs your dick,â you whimper, dropping to rest your forehead onto his shoulder, âTell it to stop hurting me.â
He hums, entertaining your words and the next thing you know, a lanky hand is snaking under your shirt to lay flat and warm on your lower tummy.
âStop hurting her,â Satoru scolds his mounted penis, âOr I swear Iâm gonna take you out of this amazing, warm little pussy and youâll go right back into your boxers. You hear me?â
Your pussy involuntarily convulses around him, hearing him indulge your little sillies in such an oddly sexy way. You both breathe out a groan at the delicious feeling.
You lift your head, breathing heavily with lidded, hazy eyes. âThat helped,â you mumble as you shove your lips onto his eagerly, nudging his head back slightly at the force and making him hum.
He locks his lightly dry lips onto your soft ones as immediate as possible, not allowing the risk of missing out on your sweet pecks like before when he could barely keep up.
But this isnât a peck, youâre tilting your head, side to side as your lips smooch, keeping them interlocked between âchuâs.â
Your eyes peek open because, your intuition was right, his intensely blue irises are staring at you through his lenses. You unlatch as you push his shoulder, lightly, not keen on accidentally making his hips jolt. âWhy are your eyes open? Close them while we kiss,â you scold, feeling a light heat rise within your cheeks.
He licks his lips to taste you instinctively. âWhatâs wrong with that? I want to look at you, youâre pretty.â
You roll your eyes half heartedly and slide your hands onto his shoulders to hold. âOpen your mouth.â
You donât give him a chance to respond because youâre shoving your wet tongue into his mouth, making him moan directly into yours. His hands tremble around your waist as they tighten their grip, using all of his will power to not listen to instinct and rut up into you.
âWait waitââ he says between licks and you know heâs scared to accidentally hurt you.
You shake your head and hum a denial. âItâs okay, you wonât,â you breathe before latching back on.
He tastes like lingering traces of sugary soda and a hint of tic-tacs, but mostly like natural saliva. His tongue is sloppy and a bit odd in how it meets yours, but itâs his and you canât help but desire for more of it as it lathers and lathes yours.
âOkay,â you pull back impatiently, âLetâs fuck.â
âFuckâ fuck,â Satoru grunts frantically, face clenching, âdonât say that, Iâm gonna ejaculate too quick.â
âNo, you wonât,â you soothe him, almost like youâre speaking it into existence, ignoring the instinct to make fun of his word choice.
He whines, but then gathers his determination and nods. âOkay, okayâ mhmâ should I move?â
You shake your head. âNo, me first.â
You softly raise your hips, using your knees on either side of his body for grounding, until half of him is glistening and exposed. His mouth hangs open and his eyes have glazed over where they lock onto your connection.
You take a deep breath and drop all of your weight down until heâs sliding right back into his little nook within you. âNngh..!â he moans on impact, brows pinching aggressively into a defensive pout. âWas that okay? Are you okay? Did it hurt? Because I think you stretched a little moreââ
You cut him off by rubbing your nose into his with closed eyes, humming in affection as you squeeze his shoulders lightly. âIâm okay,â you dismiss, resting your forehead on his, âHow does it feel? Good?â
âYou,â he pauses to shakily breathe out deeply and slowly as his hands start massaging your waist in primal instinct, âYou feel like heaven. I love you.â
You huff and lean away with an amused look. âTell me when youâre about to cum,â you warn him suddenly, and you donât leave any room for him to answer because your hips begin to ride. His thick head is immediately slamming against all of the sensitive parts inside you, nudging your g-spot deliberately with each embrace.
âOh shiiiit,â his voice undulates with the pace of your thrusts, and his glasses are already lying crooked on his face due to the recoil his body is taking. âOh my godâ nngh! oh!â
âYeah?â you breathe out with pinched brows, âDoes my pussy feel better thanâ mmh!â your mouth, Satoru?â
His eyes are threatening to roll continuously, but heâs trying so hard to keep them straight and on your blissed out face. âYour pussy isâ oh fuckâ so much better. I want to live inside of youâ please keep going.â
âIâm not stopping, Iâm not stopping.â Youâre cooing at him, sloppily, and as if youâre desperate for more, you transition to start bouncing. The impact of the change in positioning and the force of gravity aiding in your movement makes Satoru absolutely keen. His toes curl and his abdomen clenches painfully. The squelch of your connection is the most beautiful thing heâs ever heard and felt.
âOh no, oh no,â Satoru grits pleadingly and his surprisingly strong hold on your waist subconsciously tightens to the point that itâs tough to continue to bounce through it at the velocity you are. âIâm gonna cumâ Iâm gonna cumâ I canât hold it.â
âAre you sure? Right now?â You question him through moans with hope that heâll be able to hold it.
âIâm sure! Fuck! Donât get off, just stop moving.â Heâs biting his lower lip so hard that he could very well bite it clean off.
You stop at the next bounce, whining like youâve been stabbed once you settle. His cock whimpers within you too, like itâs threatening to bust at any moment, begging to make this amazing place inside you itâs new home, decorated with little Toruâs DNA and a welcome mat. His dick doesnât have to know English for Satoru to know that it wonât be accepting anything less than your pussy from now on; he can say goodbye to the makeshift pocket pussy made out of a Pringles can, gloves, and tissues already dusting in his cabinet.
âWhatâs wrong? Are you gonna cum?â you question, you were already preparing to hop off and jerk him onto your face or into your mouth.
He gulps between deep breaths, trying to catch it and calm down. He massages your hips and waist and ribs, up and down, affectionately. âI donât wanna cum until you do,â he explains with a gleam of a heart within his eyes. âHow do I do that?â
You smile and exhale deeply at his question. âI donât think I can cum unless you do something to my clit.â
Itâs obvious to the both of you that he wonât be able to maintain that if you start bouncing again.
âOh!â You grab onto him reactively when he suddenly flips you over onto your back with his large hand protecting the back of your skull and the other wrapped around your back.
You let out a gasping moan at the new angle the second your back hits the carpet when his cock wetly sinks all the way back into you. Gravity. âOh,â you whimper at how deep he is, socked feet and thighs twitching mid air beside his ribs.
His breath fans your face, hands on either side of your head. Heâs holding himself together, brows drawn in. âIâm gonna make you orgasm,â he pledges to you like a knight on his knees, eyes digging their way into yours.
âYou are?â Your response shakes out airily as he falls down to rest on his forearms beside your head, face inches from yours and white hair leaning down with gravity. His boxers are showing over the expanse of his covered ass and his sweatpants are halfway down as he lies in between your bloomed legs.
He nods with determination as he shoves his glasses up, but they fall back to the lower part of his bridge just as fast. âCan I start humping?â His intention within that geeky phrasing is so pure that your heart canât help but flutter into little butterflies.
You lift your head at a snails pace, eyes refusing to stray from his pink lips until you connect in a soft, caress of a kiss. âGo ahead,â you smile into his mouth.
Yearning for the life between your thighs, forced to pull the distance just to regain closeness again, his hips gradually pull back until heâs almost completely gone, and then heâs thrusting back inside, experimentally.
Your lips part with the drive of it in perfect synchronicity, sharing the experience of deriving pleasure from one another with a shiver.
He repeats it, this time brisker, and his eyes roll. âOh thatâs so good,â he expresses, and getting lost in the sauce, his isolated thrusts turn into a sloppy, inexperienced pace of its own, your legs brunting the force with every collision. Youâre sucking him in with every draw back and milking him when heâs fully seated.
His soggy cock sadly slips out when his focus flickers and his desperate hips lose direction; pleasure like this is blinding for an eager virgin. He takes the opportunity to breathe and recenter, slouching down to press his forehead to your collarbones as his bobbing cock jumps and pulses in yearning over your sloppy pussy.
You rub the back of his head soothingly while the other kneads his alarmingly muscular back.
He exhales against your skin. ââM still gonna make you cum,â he mumbles and you hum with a warm smile, eyeing the ceiling as you soothe him. âJust need a second.â
âTake a second,â you hum and lazily rub the inside of your calf against his side. âBut Iâm so empty,â you whisper against the top of his head like youâre casting a sultry spell, âand so âlubricated.â It would be such a shame if your cock didnât fill that space inside of my gooeyââ
âJesus fuuck,â he moans and shivers, whining at your words that seem to be just fucking right. He picks his head up to level with yours again, âOkay, okay. Iâm good. Iâm ready.â
He reaches down without looking, grasping his shaft to lead it back into you. He pokes your lower hole and you squeak, âWrong hole! Higherâ higher, Satoru.â
âOh,â he breathes a huff into your face, a geeky smile on his lips.
He pokes your clit. âToo high. You need some help, Satoru?â Youâre teasing him, but youâd still gladly do it for him if he needed you to.
He shakes his head and you nudge his glasses up for him before they potentially fall all the way off. âI got it, I got it.â He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his lips in concentration as he takes his hand off of his cock to search for your pussy, blindly.
Your abdomen clenches inward in a jolting fashion when he lays his long fingers over the entirety of your pussy. âJust need to see where..â he trails off with focus, eyes locked on nothing in particular over your head.
His bony fingers start pawing, groping, and spreading your folds, probing them like heâs trying to memorize the anatomy. Your hips and abdomen muscles are jerking with his rough touch, letting out a few whines as you writhe. âWhat are you doing?â
âThere it is,â he breathes, ignoring your gasp as his fingers poke at the clenching entrance to your insides, âSee, baby? Got it.â
He hurriedly shoves his dick into you to the hilt, while he still remembers where itâs at, with a deep, loud, throaty exhale of relief youâd only hear from a forty year old man. Your hands snap to grip his back, nails pushing into the cloth as your spine arches into him. âSatoruâ nngh!â you groan in shock at the sudden impaling of your guts.
âYeahh,â he sighs, nudging your face to the side with his to nose at your neck, âMy name, keep saying that.â
Your jaw drops as he brutally begins to thrust deeper than before, like heâs stabbing you with every hit, he sucks and licks at the side of your neck unsteadily. He reaches between your bodies and finds your beating clit while you squeak on every thrust like youâre a sharp-teethed dogâs stuffed squeaky toy.
You can literally feel the tendons in his forearm undulate against your tummy as he swipes electricity through your clit and into your legs, down to your curling toes. Now that heâs destroying you, itâs clear that previously, inexperienced Satoru was striving to grasp an understanding of holding a steady pace before he could attempt at multitasking his focus onto your clit as well.
He pulls back from your neck to search your expression with upmost curiosity. He can see the clear change in your every expression at the new advancement. âOhh, ohâ that feels good, huh?â Heâs almost taunting you and cooing at you simultaneously.
You nod eagerly as your arms scramble to wrap under his arms to hold onto his sweaty shoulder blades from behind for balance; since heâs so tall, you have to reach a bit. The gymnastics your mind would have to go through to tease him back is shut off and being bypassed completely as he manipulates an orgasm to appear within the distance.
âLittle magic button,â Satoru huffs as drool seeps out of the corner of your parted lips, moaning like youâre being hurt.
âIâm gonna cum,â you warn him, nodding again like itâs your job, âdonât change pace. Donât stopâ please.â He hisses when your nails start clawing down his back muscles, but he couldnât care less about pain right now, thereâs a wicked, domintating look of euphoria on his face.
âCum, please, cumâ I need you to cum. Iâm not stopping,â he confirms into your ear before slobbering all over it. Heâs been holding back the need to burst within you for too long already but heâd sooner pull out and continue to rub at you in hope of maintaining the build of your peak and then diving back in when his high dissipates than cum before you.
âOh my god, itâs happening!â You cum with a shuddering, pathetic whine that turns into a silent cry, overwhelmed by the burst of white love and the piercing of his teeth into your soft neck.
Heâs in bliss knowing heâs finally pushing you over the edge, but the feeling of your cunt squeezing in convulsions heâs only read online about happening when a woman experiences an orgasm and her body instinctively goes through the primal motions of milking the penis within of all the sperm it can offer, he falls over the edge. He wouldnât have been able to cut off his high even if he yanked himself out this very second.
His hips slam one last jack hammer as deep into your cunt as as he can penetrate before he holds still in your guts, making you, âguh!â like youâve been stabbed.
âThank you! Iâm sorryâ fuuck! Thank you!â
He canât help but abandon your clit as he falls of the cliff, though you donât even need it anymore. That first spurt of cum travels through his convulsing cock and shoots into your cervix, bullseye. His leg muscles shake as he repeats those slurs of gratitude and apologies into the skin of your cheek with slobbery, drooling lips.
You can feel the violent pulses of his cock, indicating heâs spurting cum into your tummy, but all you can do is hold onto him in a deep embrace as you catch your breath, coming to the conclusion of your orgasm.
Youâre spent. He groans as his lips smear down your cheek, over your jaw and then down to tuck his face into your neck, leaving a trail of drool in their wake. Suddenly, his extremely tense body turns to heavy deadweight and drops fully on top of you. Heâs now a starfish, arms and legs flailed out while his softening cock is still snug inside your continually massaging, convulsing walls. Heâs sweating and you can smell his specific musk more potently, though most of you is instinctively comforted and weirdly domestically affected by it.
âSatoru,â you whine and writhe underneath him, air knocked out of you due to the 300 pound fish on top of you, âyouâre heavy.â
Satoru blurts a tired noise, making you groan and squeeze your legs together around his hips.
He noses at your neck and starts kitten licking it, making your insides squeeze and twist around his sensitive cock. His ass clenches. âOh! Oh! Tight!â he hisses as if heâs touched a hot surface but refuses to pull out.
âItâs yourâ nghâ fault,â you mewl, hitting his back weakly. âDonât lick me like that!â
He lethargically pulls his face out of your neck to smirk at you. âI made you cum so hard.â Proud. Cocky. Borderline sexyâ and then he ruins it by sniffling with obvious mucus.
You squint at him accusingly. âAnd you came inside me.â
He huffs nervously and shoves his glasses up. âYeah.. Iâm sorry.â
You sigh. âYou know I canât take plan b, right?â
He blinks at you and his face pales a bit. âW-What? Why? I can buy itâ â
âBecause itâs really bad for your body,â you flick his forehead, âI told you to tell me when you were going to cum for a reason, stupid.â
âFuck.â He drops his forehead down onto the carpet beside yours. His, already half hard, cock twitches against your walls.
A long pause. Youâre almost suspecting that heâs turned on by the idea of impregnating you.
He lifts his head, brows pinched. âWeâre having a baby?â
âNo, Satoru.â You sigh and rub the top of his head comfortingly, âIâm not ovulating so hopefully it just.. doesnât stick.â
He immediately shakes his head as if that just wonât do. âNo, itâs gonna stick. Gojo sperm always makes it home on the first try.â
You blink and your face screws up as you attempt to process his words. âWhat are you talking about? How could you possibly know that?â
âMy dad told me when I hit puberty,â he adjusts his body so he can lean on his forearms and you both emit a soft sound at the incidental movement down below, âGrandpa told him the same thing. He was a first try baby, my dad was too, and so was I. All boys too.â
He grabs onto the sides of your head in a caress, then sniffles causally and smiles down at you like he didnât just drop a bomb on youâ more accurately, inside of you.
âSatoru,â you say his name like it should trigger some kind of common sense in this scenario, âWe are not having a child while weâre still in college and live with our parents.â
âYour intentions donât change the very real science of my sperm traveling within your uterus, right now.. You know that, right?â
You grab onto his biceps and glare at him while his dick is still plugging your cunt thatâs filled to the brim with Gojo sperm. âIâm not joking. I am not getting pregnant Satoruâ I mean fuck! We just had sex for the very first time ever.â
He leans down and smooshes his arrogant lips to yours, ignoring your fists hitting his arms stubbornly. His tone lowers to a whisper as he speaks against your lips.
âDoes that mean weâre gonna have sex again?â
âOh my god, I need to get out of here,â you start squirming and shoving at his chest futilely, âI canât believe I let you put your dick in me.â
âOkay, okay. Look, itâs useless to worry about hypotheticals,â Satoru calms you logically and gives you a serious look. âOkay? Weâre okay. Youâre okay.â
You exhale and nod, minutely, hands stilling against his chest.
He leans in close your lips, breath mingling. âYour insides feel so fucking good. I wanna stay in here forever.â He slides his tongue against the seam of your lips before kissing them like itâs natural.
âYeah?â you hum into it with hands sliding down to his chest and bumpy abs and then up again. Satoru is weirdly muscular and eerily strong, a sleeper build if you will. You hadnât realized due to the continuous long sleeves and pants covering himâ he also usually wears the same clothes everyday since he barely does laundry unless his mother does it.
You squeak when you feel his cock begin to stretch your insides out as it hardens. âYouâre already hard again??â
âI told you,â he muffles into your mouth, refusing to part ways enough to speak coherently, âGojo anatomy is just different.â
He leans down and starts licking your neck like an affectionate cat, again. âIâm never gonna be able to look your dad in the eyes again.â You cringe at the idea of Satoruâs father being a good cum shot.
âHey,â he nips at your neck with sharp teeth, making you hiss, âyouâre not allowed to think about anyoneâs penis but mine right now.â
âWhy do you say it like that?â You giggle as his nibbles tickle your skin and you mock his tone dramatically, making it extra nasally, âPenis.â
âThat is itâs proper title.â He pulls away to eye you with judgement, like youâre the stupid one.
âI donât think Iâve heard you say cock once.â You snicker at him, grinning in amusement as you eye his expression. âSay it.â
âCock.â
You blink.
You giggle.
You mock him, quietly. âCock.â
âOh yeah? Okay, how about this,â he hums and his voice drops into a warm, sultry embrace, âIâm gonna fuck my cock into your fucking heavenly cunt. Whatâs one more load, hmm?â
The tingles that spark in your abdomen suddenly erupt into an explosion and you let out a shuddering gasp when Satoru suddenly starts grinding thoroughly into you again with a fully erect âcock.â
Maybe walking in on your childhood friend sucking his own dick was meant to be <3
im telling you all... its so worth it to spend a whole evening make 100 million homemade gyoza (even though it takes so long) and freezing them all to have perfect delicious gyoza just the way you like them anytime you want at a moments notice. they seriously take like 10 minutes to prepare from frozen and they are so good. i just had a dumplings and noodles feast you wish you were me
heres teh gyoza recipe ive been using and heres the dumpling sauce recipe ive been using and here was the noodles recipe i ate. in case even 1 person on earth wanted this information
summary ~ satoru gojo, frat boy fuck up and shameless heartbreaker, has his whole world flipped when he notices the prettiest girl in his social studies class. suddenly ditching his hookups and wild ways, he devotes himself entirely to her, proving, loudly, obnoxiously, and wholeheartedly, that even an untouchable asshole can fall in love. (fluff)
gojo was an asshole.
you probably knew his name before you even set foot on campus. everyone did.
satoru gojo was the kind of guy you heard about in whispers before you ever saw him in person, like a myth given a six foot four body, tussled white hair and a poisonous grin.
he was the kinda frat boy everyone warned you about, the walking red flag who still somehow had half the university drooling at his feet.
people lost their minds gossiping about him, while guys wanted to be him and girls wanted to be with him, he had everyone either drooling or plotting his demise.
with all that attention comes a wicked ego, and satoru was not one to shy away from admitting he thought he was the best thing to ever happen to this university. he was an intensive, arrogant, entitled dick in every sense of the meaning.
his reputation was built off of hot, messy nights and really shitty decisions. the kind where heâd stumble out of one girlâs dorm room at 2.a.m only to crash a sorority mixer at 3.
the kind where heâd hook up with someoneâs best friend on friday, then text that same girlâs roommate on saturday. he didnât discriminate either. freshmen, seniors, sorority girls, athletes, even a teaching assistant once, if the rumors were true.
he had a type, sure, but it was less about looks and more about who was available and willing to let him flash that cocky grin in their direction.
and when he wasnât fucking half the campus population? he was talking shit, running his mouth. satoru lived to mind fuck anyone who crossed his path.
heâd clap back at professors mid-lecture, throw casual digging insults at his teammates during practice, or lean out of the frat house windows yelling down at passersby just to get a rise out of them. he thrived on being the insufferable asshole everyone loved to hate.
gojo wasn't one to settle, he was loud, fast paced, and too full of himself to really slow down and appreciate anything.
so it was no surprise that when he strutted into your social studies lecture, ten minutes late with sunglasses on and a protein shake in hand, no one batted an eye. it was just gojo being gojo.
you, though, you were new to the spectacle.
you had slipped into the back row that day, notebook neatly open, pen poised in your hand. you werenât the kind of person who drew attention. you came to class, you took notes, you went home. simple. your world was quiet, orderly, filled with the kind of softness that most people overlooked.
gojo didnât notice you at first. why would he? he was too busy propping his feet up on the desk in front of him, whispering some crude joke to the guy next to him, grinning when the professor sighed like she wanted to strangle him.
but then, halfway through the lecture, he caught something out of the corner of his eye.
you.
and he swore to god, he almost choked on his spit.
you were leaning prettily over your notebook, hair falling in your face as you scribbled cliff notes like the lecture actually mattered. your pen tapped lightly against the page when you paused to think. and then, you looked up. only for a second. but your eyes lifted toward the projector screen, the light catching your face just right.
and gojoâs brain short-circuited.
what the fuck.
how had he never seen you before? he knew everyone, or at least knew of them. but you? you looked like you belonged in another world entirely. drop dead gorgeous, so soft, too perfect, too out of place in a boring lecture hall where he usually dozed off.
you werenât looking at him. you didnât laugh when he cracked a piss funny joke under his breath. you didnât whisper to the girl next to you about whatever scandal he got himself into recently. you didnât even glance his way.
that was new.
for the first time in maybe forever, gojo felt... thrown off.
he kept sneaking glances the rest of the lecture, his sunglasses sliding down his nose so he could actually see you better. every time you tucked your hair behind your ear or chewed on your pen cap, his chest tightened with something he couldnât name.
he leaned over to whisper something to nanami who sat next to him, "nanamin, that girl... oh my god, she is the prettiest person i've ever fucking seen, what the fuck?"
nanami glanced up at who he was talking about and was clearly a little taken aback as well, but agreed promptly nonetheless.
you werenât loud, you werenât dressed to turn heads, you werenât doing anything at all to stand out. and yet, he couldnât make himself stop staring even if he tried.
the second class ended, you packed up quickly and slipped out before he could catch you. but that didnât matter.
because now he was head over heels obsessed with a girl he didn't even know the name of.
later that night, while the frat house was pulsing with music and sweaty bodies crushed together on the dance floor, gojo sat sprawled across the couch with a beer in hand.
girls passed by, some throwing him flirty smiles, one even trying to perch herself in his lap. normally, that would have been the highlight of his night. but instead, his mind kept circling back to the image of you in that back row seat.
who the hell were you? some perfect slice of heaven he couldn't stop dreaming about.
by midnight, he was leaning over to sukuna, half-drunk and half-crazed, muttering, âbro, i saw the prettiest girl in lecture today. like, actually insane. i think iâm in love with her.â
sukuna laughed in his face, obviously. told him he was full of shit.
but gojo wasnât joking.
and for once, it wasnât about a conquest. it wasnât about proving he could get you or wrecking another heart. it was just⊠you. the way you looked so unbothered by him, so wrapped up in your own little world, so untouchably kind without even saying a word.
gojo was absolutely star struck.
and for the first time in his ridiculous life, he finally took a deeper look at himself and saw a problem with his overall personality.
he wanted more than just a night with you. he wanted you to actually see him for what he was. which, to anyone's standard, wasn't anything worth wanting. he figured if he just stuck by you long enough, made a good first impression, the rumours wouldn't catch up to you, and he could rebuild his own image in your eyes.
~
the next time he knew he would see you, he didnât waste a second.
gojo showed up to lecture early, which was unheard of. that day he was already in the room when you walked in, slouched casually in the back row like he hadnât been waiting there for fifteen minutes just to see you again.
you slid into the same seat, pulling out your notebook like always. and before you could even click your pen, there he was, leaning one long arm across the desk between you.
âhey, pretty girl.â he drawled, voice lazy but eyes sharp on your face. âiâm satoru.â
you blinked at him, surprised heâd even spoken to you. âhi.â
âhi?â his grin widened. âthatâs it? no âoh my god, youâre the satoru gojo?'â as soon as it left his mouth he internally strangled himself.
'yikes... i'm embarrassing.'
you raised an eyebrow, a little confused. "is that... not a normal reaction?â
he laughed, loud enough to draw looks from a few rows ahead. you turned back to your notebook, a slight blush of embarrassment brushing your cheeks as you fiddled with your pen.
he felt his throat close up at a lack of words to say to you, like you'd struck him so hard with your allure he couldn't bark out an insensitive comment if he tried. and just like that, he knew he was screwed.
because you werenât impressed. not in the way everyone else was. you werenât leaning toward him, batting your lashes, asking for his number before he even offered it. you were polite, a little cautious, maybe even amused, but not smitten.
gojo lived for attention. but yours? yours he had to earn. and for the first time, he wanted to.
after that, he stuck to you like glue.
if you were in class, he was next to you, pretending to take notes while actually doodling dumb cartoons in the margins and sliding them your way.
if you lingered in the hallway after lecture, he was suddenly at your side, cracking jokes and asking what you were doing later, and if he could tag along.
if you went to the library, somehow he was there too, sprawling across from you and loudly declaring he was there to âstudyâ while actually distracting you until you gave in and laughed.
he followed you like a lost puppy, and everyone noticed.
the girls he used to text at 1.a.m stopped hearing from him. his name faded from gossip about who hooked up with who last weekend. even his frat brothers were suspicious, watching as the guy who used to thrive on chaos suddenly spent his time orbiting one person.
âyouâre whipped,â choso muttered one night, exhaling smoke as he leaned back on the couch. the party raged around them, bass shaking the walls, but gojo wasnât on the dance floor. he was sprawled beside choso, drink untouched, talking about you.
ânot whipped,â gojo argued, though his grin betrayed him. âjust⊠invested.â
âbro, you havenât gotten laid in like a month.â
âso? i donât need to. sheâs different.â
âdifferent,â choso echoed flatly, passing him the joint.
gojo didnât even smoke it. just twirled it between his fingers, staring into the crowd like he could manifest you appearing there even though he knew youâd never set foot in a place like this.
because that was the thing, he learned quickly you werenât a party girl. youâd wrinkle your nose when he invited you to a rager, politely decline with a smile that never felt judgmental, just firm. you told him you preferred nights in, maybe a movie or book before bed.
at first, it drove him insane. he wanted you here, pressed into his side on the couch while the music pulsed and the drinks flowed.
he wanted to show you off, parade you through the crowd like proof heâd actually caught something precious. but he also didnât want to push you.
so instead, he stayed sober at parties, sinking into the couch with choso or nanami and rambling about you.
how your laugh had slipped out in class that day when he whispered something dumb under his breath.
how your handwriting was neat enough to frame.
how you always brought an extra granola bar and offered it to him without thinking, like kindness was your default setting.
âi wish she liked this shit,â he admitted one night, watching the door like maybe youâd magically walk through it. âlike, imagine her sitting here with us. iâd never leave the couch.â
âyou already never leave the couch,â choso pointed out.
âyeah, but if she was here, itâd be romantic.â
nanami groaned. âyouâre insufferable.â
but none of them had ever seen gojo like this. he wasnât chasing anyone else, wasnât flashing his usual cocky smirk at every girl who crossed his path.
his phone, once a graveyard of unanswered texts from hookups, was now filled with half-written drafts to you. memes he wanted to send, dumb thoughts he thought might make you laugh, questions about class he didnât actually need answers to.
and you, well, you thought he was just being friendly.
when he plopped down next to you in the cafeteria, stealing fries off your tray and launching into some dramatic story about how his friend yuji nearly set the kitchen on fire, you laughed and rolled your eyes. when he followed you to the bookstore, carrying your bag without asking and tossing commentary at every shelf you paused at, you shook your head but didnât push him away.
"ooo, romance huh? spicy." he teased, ruffling your hair from his much taller stature.
you'd just smile in response and elbow him in the ribs before moving onto the next shelf.
when he texted you at 1.a.m with a picture of his half-finished essay and a caption like âthis is actually so fucking bad. please help me?â you sent back a sleepy laughing emoji and told him you'd help him tommorow after class.
to you, he was becoming a friend. an annoying, persistent, weirdly charming friend, but a friend all the same.
to him, though, you were everything. he'd carefully made sure not to let any sort of mean comment slip, no display of rude and selfish gojo around you, that's for sure. he'd rather cut his hand off then be anything but kind to you.
two months slipped by like that. two months of him ignoring every girl who still tried to flirt with him, brushing them off with a distracted smile. two months of him waiting outside your classes just to walk you home. two months of him sitting at frat parties with choso, whining about how badly he wanted you to see him the way he saw you.
every day he grew more certain. every night he grew more restless.
because this wasnât a fling. not anymore.
he wanted you. not for a night, not for a quick win, but for real.
and gojo satoru, the campus asshole, the frat boy slut, the guy who never before cared about someone quite as much as you, was willing to wait as long as it took for you to realize it. he was in love with you.
~
by the time the second month bled into the third, everyone around him was sick of hearing your name.
âbro, you literally said her name four times in the last five minutes,â itadori groaned, dropping his controller when gojo steamrolled him in mario kart for the fifth time straight. âi get it, she has cute handwriting. shut up.â
âyou donât understand,â gojo fired back, grinning like an idiot. âitâs not just cute, itâs like⊠aesthetically pleasing. symmetrical. satisfying.â
megumi sighed from the other end of the couch. âyou sound insane.â
âiâm in love,â gojo corrected, then flopped backwards so his head hung off the couch, hair brushing the floor. âand none of you support me. fake friends.â
he was unbearable. everyone knew it. his frat brothers started taking bets on when heâd crack and either confess to you or combust from sheer pining. even sukuna, who usually wanted nothing to do with other peopleâs lives, snapped one night when gojo showed up at his door for the fifth time in a week, ranting about how youâd smiled at him in class.
âjesus christ,â sukuna growled, tossing a pillow at his face. âjust ask her out already before i sew your mouth shut.â
but asking you out wasnât that simple.
gojo had never been nervous about that kind of thing before. usually, if he wanted someone, he got them. he didnât even have to try. one smile, one joke, and girls were climbing into his lap at parties. rejection wasnât in his vocabulary.
but you werenât like them.
you were careful. he noticed it in the way you took your time answering him sometimes, like you were weighing his words for hidden meaning. in the way you tilted your head when he told a story, like you were trying to figure out what was true and what was exaggeration. in the way you politely ignored the flirty comments he sometimes let slip, as if you didnât want to encourage him.
you didnât trust him. not fully. and why would you?
his reputation clung to him like smoke. youâd probably heard the stories, everyone had. how he slept around, how he treated people like toys, how he broke hearts without blinking. and maybe you thought youâd just be another notch in his bedpost if you gave him a chance.
the thing was, you werenât wrong. if this had been a year ago, maybe even a few months ago, that wouldâve been exactly what he wanted. but now? now he wanted something real. something terrifying for him.
he wanted you.
so for weeks, he stalled. he walked you to your cute little apartment every single day without fail, made you laugh until you covered your mouth to hide your smile, never let you carry anything, bought you coffee. he turned down girls left right and center, letting their numbers rot unread in his phone. yet he lingered on your texts, typing and deleting responses just to make sure they came out right.
but still, the words âwill you go out with meâ stuck like cement in his throat.
until one friday afternoon.
the two of you had stayed late in the library, your notes spread across the table while he pretended to study but really just doodled little caricatures of you on his paper. the sun dipped low through the windows, painting everything gold. you pushed your books into your bag and stretched, your sweater slipping just enough to reveal your collarbone, and gojo nearly lost his mind.
he had to do it. he couldnât drag this out anymore.
âhey,â he blurted, voice sharper than he meant. you glanced at him, eyebrows raised, and he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly uncharacteristically awkward. âso, uh⊠iâve been thinking.â
âhmm, that's dangerous,â you teased, zipping up your bag.
âha ha. real funny. no, seriously.â he leaned forward, trying to mask how fast his heart was beating. âi really like you, y/n.â
you froze. your hands stilled on your bag, and your eyes flicked up to his. cautious. guarded.
âsatoruâŠâ
âno, wait, donât give me that voice,â he rushed, holding up a hand. âthe one thatâs like âyouâre full of shit, satoru.â iâm not. i really really mean it.â
you sighed, and for a moment, he thought you might laugh in his face. âyou have a pretty bad reputation with girls, you know.â
âyeah... i know.â his grin faltered, replaced by something rawer. âbut, y/n, i swear, you're not like those stupid flings, okay? genuinely i really like you.â
you pause again, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. "i dunno toru..."
âlook... i know i was abit of, well... a whore. but please believe me. ever since i met you, y/n... i've stopped all of that shit.â
he leaned closer, voice low, almost pleading. âi havenât touched anyone else since i met you. i donât even look at anyone else. i think about you when i wake up, when i go to bed, every dumb second in between. iâm not good at this whole⊠sincerity thing, but iâm trying, because youâre worth it.â
your lips parted, surprise flickering across your face.
âplease,â he added, softer now. âjust one date. if iâm still the asshole everyone thinks i am, you can walk away. but give me the chance to prove iâm not.â
silence stretched between you. his palms were sweaty against the table, heart hammering so hard he swore you could hear it.
finally, you exhaled. âokay, satoru.â
his head snapped up. âwait- really?"
âyes you big dummy,â you joked, standing and slinging your bag over your shoulder.
gojo shot to his feet so fast his chair screeched against the floor. âyou wonât regret this. i swear, you wonât. best date of your life, promise.â
you shook your head, but there was the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at your lips.
and just like that, he was soaring.
he walked you home that evening practically buzzing out of his skin. every step felt too small for how big the moment was. he wanted to shout it off rooftops, text everyone in his contacts, run a victory lap around campus.
instead, he saved it until he got back to the frat house.
the second he walked in, he threw his arms up like heâd just won a championship. âboys!â he bellowed, voice carrying over the tv. âshe said yes!â
heads turned. groans and cheers erupted in equal measure. itadori nearly spit out his drink, megumi buried his face in his hands, and choso just muttered, âthank godâ under his breath.
but gojo wasnât done.
he bounded up the stairs two at a time and slammed open sukunaâs door. âshe said yes!â
sukuna scowled from his desk, mid-study. âget out.â
âno, listen, she actually said yes! first date, itâs happening, iâm a taken man now, kiss bachelor gojo goodbye!â
a pillow hit him square in the face. âi donât care.â
âyou care a little,â gojo sang, ducking out before sukuna could throw something heavier.
then he bolted to the kitchen, where nanami was quietly making tea. he skidded in, nearly crashing into the counter, and declared, ânanamin, she said yes.â
nanami didnât even look up. âplease stop yelling.â
âyou donât get it,â gojo insisted, grabbing him by the shoulders. âthis is life-changing. history in the making. iâm officially off the market.â
âcongratulations,â nanami deadpanned, prying his hands off. ânow leave me alone.â
but nothing could dull his grin. not the groans, not the insults, not the pillows thrown at his face. because for the first time in his ridiculous, chaotic life, satoru gojo had something real to hold onto.
and it was you.
~
the night of your first date, gojo treated it like he was gearing up for war.
not the usual frat boy âspray on half a can of cologne and call it a dayâ kind of prep. no, he actually cared this time. he spent a full hour in front of the mirror, changing shirts three times, arguing with himself about whether a button-up was too try-hard or if a hoodie was too lazy. nanami, who had the misfortune of walking past his room, stopped dead in the doorway and just stared.
âwhat are you doing,â nanami asked flatly.
âbro, i have a date, obviously."
ânever seen you this stressed about getting ready for a dumb date.â
âno, you donât get it. itâs the date. first date with y/n.â
nanami sighed so hard it sounded painful. âoh yeah. god help that poor girl.â
but underneath the jokes and chaos, gojoâs chest was tight with nerves. his hands actually shook when he tied his sneakers. when had that ever happened before? heâd walked into hookups without a single thought, breezed through flings like they were nothing. but you werenât a fling. you were the one person he couldnât afford to screw this up with.
he showed up right on time, knocking on your door with his heart hammering against his ribs. when you opened it, dressed prettily and glowing in a way that made him lose his breath, he forgot every dumb speech heâd rehearsed in the mirror.
âyou lookâŠâ he swallowed, his usual smooth confidence tripping over itself. âholy shit. you look amazing.â
you flushed, ducking your head. âthanks, toru. you too.â
he grinned, wide and unrestrained, and offered his arm like he was escorting you to a ball instead of just dinner.
the date wasnât extravagant. gojo debated booking some over-the-top spot, something flashy to prove he was serious. but then he remembered what youâd told him, you liked cozy, simple things. so he picked a quiet ramen place off campus, one with dim lights and big portions, where you could actually talk.
and talk you did.
at first, you were slightly guarded despite talking to him everyday for the past three months, shoulders tense, answers a tad clipped. but gojo didnât push. he asked about your home life, your favorite everything, whether you liked digimon?
he told you dumb stories about his frat, exaggerated his way through a tale about sukuna accidentally breaking a chair with one punch, and laughed at his own jokes just to see if it would make you laugh too.
slowly, you relaxed. your smiles came easier, your laughter softer but genuine. and every time you looked at him, really looked, he felt like he was being seen in a way no one else had ever bothered to. not as campus legend, not as the asshole frat boy, just as satoru.
by the time dinner ended, you werenât thinking about his reputation anymore. you were thinking about how he held the door for you, how he listened when you spoke, how he didnât make a single flirty comment that felt like a game.
you were thinking maybe, just maybe, he meant it.
afterwards, he walked you home. the night air was cool, the campus quiet except for distant laughter and the hum of streetlamps. he shoved his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to reach for yours.
âso,â he said, tilting his head toward you. âbe honest. was that the worst date of your life, or just bottom three?â
you laughed, shaking your head. âyeah, it was good.â
âgood?â he gasped, feigning offense. âjust good? i poured my heart and soul into that top tier date.â
âfinee. it was really good, satoru.â
his grin softened, and he hummed sweetly. âbetter.â
you stopped outside your apartment, turning to face him. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the world felt smaller, quieter, the air between you charged.
âthanks for tonight, it was really fun... i really enjoyed it, toru,â you said.
âno no, thanks for saying yes.â his voice dropped, sincerity seeping through. âseriously. i know you didnât have to. i know what people say about me. but⊠iâm glad you gave me a chance.â
you hesitated, then smiled. âme too.â
gojoâs heart soared. "so... how about a second date?" he asked with a shy blush, fiddling with his fingers behind his back.
you smiled softly, and let your eyes fall to the floor before responding with a bashful laugh. "of course, i'd love that."
he wanted to kiss you, wanted it so bad his chest ached with it. but he didnât push. instead, he stepped back with a lopsided grin. "thank god. i'll make the second one even better, y/n, promise."
for once in his life he wasn't following someone inside after a date to get what he wanted, he was taking things slow, at your pace.
âsleep well, sweetheart.â
you disappeared inside, and the second the door shut behind you, he nearly exploded.
he jogged back to the frat house like he had rockets strapped to his shoes, grinning so hard his face hurt. the second he burst through the front door, he shouted at the top of his lungs.
âshe had fun! she actually had fun! i didnât blow it!â
the guys groaned from the living room.
âwe get it!â itadori yelled.
but gojo was unstoppable. he sprinted upstairs to sukunaâs room, threw the door open without knocking, and declared, âshe likes me!â
âget the fuck out,â sukuna growled.
âshe likes me,â gojo repeated, ignoring the death glare. âi told you i wasnât full of shit!â
âif you donât leave in five seconds, you wonât live to see a second date.â
gojo ducked out, laughing like a madman, and bolted straight to the kitchen. nanami was, once again, making tea.
ânanamin!â gojo sang, sliding across the tile like a kid. âshe laughed at my jokes. she smiled with me. she actually said she had fun.â
âyouâre very loud,â nanami muttered, not looking up.
âiâm very in love,â gojo shot back, leaning against the counter with a dreamy sigh.
nanami rolled his eyes but didnât argue.
for the rest of the night, gojo couldnât stop. he told anyone who would listen, hell, even people who didnât want to, that heâd taken you out, that it went well, that youâd agreed to a second date. he paced the halls at 2.a.m, still riding the high, muttering to himself about what heâd plan next time.
and for once, the frat didnât tease him too hard. because they all saw it.
the way he lit up at the mention of you. the way his grin softened when he said your name. the way the infamous campus asshole had gone three whole months without a single hookup, without a single scandal, because he only wanted one girl.
satoru gojo, the untouchable, the heartbreaker, the menace, was finally caught.
and the truth was, he didnât want to be anywhere else.
"hmm... maybe a cat cafe next."
awe i love writing frat gojo đ€
happy kinktober guys, i might push some work out but i need some ideas for the kinks you wanna see!
