synopsis . Cockwarming to fall asleep but he fails to do so every time. content . afab!reader, established relationship, taunting, cockwarming (duh), dirty talk, condescending praise(?), pet names, teasing, etc.
Voice hot and heavy against your ear as one thick thumb mindlessly circles over your twitching clit, "Nothing else inside this head of yours aside from cock, hm?" Then he scoffs and although his words are a bit harsh, you could feel the smirk on his lips, "Can't even sleep properly without it, poor girl."
Truth be told, he didn't have to be caressing your clit while his dick nestled deeply inside you but he not-so-secretly loved feeling the way your cunt clamps around him every now and then. You were supposed to just be keeping his cock warm and nothing more and yet now his tip was smearing precum all over your walls as he shifted his hips slightly.
"Kentoo, you promised not to move this time," You murmur all tiredly, trying to lightly push your hips back against as if to warn him.
The smirk on his face falters and he moves his mouth down to the side of your neck, whispering tentatively into your skin in that deep voice that has you hot and bothered all over, "I can't help it. You feel so good, my love." Then his hips are rolling forward and you let out a moan you'd been trying so desperately to hold back.
His lips part against your neck and his hand leaves your clit just to meet your leg and lift it up a bit so that he can angle himself in "properly", groaning purposefully against your tense skin just so he can feel you squeeze around him again.
He knows you're not any better at holding back than he is so when he tugs his cock back and it slips out of you, he has to stop himself from smiling at the pathetic whine that falls off of your lips. Then he slides a hand down to his shaft just to playfully angle and then rub himself in between your warm folds, breath hitching against your neck.
You shift against the bed and look down before your hand moves to his length, fingers brushing over his as you try to make him slide back inside of you. "Ken'," You mewl desperately.
That's how he knows he has you exactly how he wants you. Because then he's letting you angle him back inside you and the groan he lets out is nasty and rich with a deep feral need to please you, his darling wife.
Lips sliding up to your ear again just as his tip presses light pecks against the hilt of your pussy, “Can you feel that?” He whispers, feeling the way you squeeze so prettily around him and then smiling, “Yeahh, feel how deep my cock is inside you, right against that spot you love so much, huh?”
You release another series of gorgeous moans and Nanami just can't help himself anymore. He has to tease you until you're whining for him to fuck you, even though you'd both agreed not to do anything much tonight.
Right on time, your back arches against his torso and he moves his hands to keep your hips still before purring, “Can you take it?” and then earning a rather sinful shake of your head. To which he scoffs and presses his lips down just below your ear. “Awh, but I know you can," He coos, "You always do.”
Nanami eases his hips back carefully and watches the way you turn your head into the pillow when he gives you one lazy thrust of his hips. Then your hand moves back and you push at him for a split second before contrastingly clawing at him to come closer the moment he starts pulling out again. He had you all confused about what you wanted and fuck did he love every second of it.
Especially when he hears you muffle a whimper into the pillow. Smirking now, “Shh, shhh, I know it’s big, darling.” He says lovingly, letting one of his hands return to your front so he can caress your clit, hips sandwiching against your ass while he speaks in that honeyed baritone of his all slowly, “But isn’t that nice, how I fill you up so perfectly every time?”
You gasp and let your hand fall down to hold his wrist, "You're supposed to be.. mngh, s-staying still," You breathe out heavily. And thank god for the way your expression was currently hidden against the pillow right now because if he could see the way your eyes lull to the back of your skull every time he opens his mouth, he'd never let you hear the end of it.
“Hah," Nanami scoffs, warm breath smacking against your skin, "And you were only supposed to be keeping my cock warm and now look at you.” He argues, leaning down to bite into your shoulder as he thrusts a bit too hard and makes your body jerk forward a little. Grunting, “Practically begging me to fuck you like this.”
You turn your head a little and swallow down another moan, opening your mouth to say something but quickly getting cut off by the way he suddenly takes your jaw into his hand and angles your head all the way back to meet eyes with him.
It's then that you realize you fucked up at some point because Nanami's got that devilishly knowing look on his face. He leans closer and you feel his hips stop, leaving his cock throbbing and hot against your aching walls, "Too bad I’m gonna stay riiiight here and you’re gonna go to sleep on it just like we agreed you would.”
You try giving him that pout he usually can't resist, "I can't do that now, not after you already started. Please..."
“Oh but you’re going to,” He smiles and then finally relaxes back a bit, as if to finalize his previous statement, his hips still not moving an inch and cock just... sitting inside you. “If not,” He reels back only a little to watch panic take over your features and then whispers, “I’ll leave you all empty tonight.”
Shit.
banner art from; "Kubitsuri Danshi to Nikushoku Joshi" || perm nanami tags (1/2):
✮ getting stuck in an elevator with two hot bosses who want you cannot be that bad, right? *pwp
"shit, we're gonna be here a while," nanami breathed out annoyed and loosened his tie after the dispatcher didn't answer again and the call button totally stopped working. your shift ended like three hours ago, but you were still there, typical you, obsessing over some report. the office was totally empty.
well, except for two department heads you were lucky enough to get stuck with in one cramped elevator.
the elevator felt way too small for three adults. you were basically squeezed between them and could feel the heat coming off their bodies. behind you was nanami's tall figure, and right in front of you — higuruma. both were a head taller than you, wider in the shoulders, and fucking hot.
i mean, it wasn't for nothing that you always wore short skirts even though the dress code said no, that you accidentally spilled coffee on higuruma's pants so you could apologize with bambi eyes and wipe a napkin near his cock. for months you played a dangerous game: you leaned over a little more than you should, showed off your chest when you sat across from him, brushed your shoulder against nanami's in the narrow hallway, and left documents on hiromi's desk that were soaked in your boldest perfume. you teased both of them at the same time, gave them hope, but always slipped away the second their stares got too heavy. a little flirting is fun, alright?
but right now you weren't having fun at all.
nanami slowly leaned in. his hot breath hit your ear, making you shiver. "you look spooked, sweetheart. you okay?" he said, and he sounded dangerously protective. "y-yeah, i'm fine," you gulped, trying not to look at him. "it's just super hot in here."
you noticed nanami lookedup at higuruma. for a while they just stared at each other in silence, and then this slow, knowing grin spread across both their faces. that look made your knees go weak. higuruma took his time taking off his jacket. he did it slow, eyes locked on yours, and tossed the expensive thing right on the dirty floor.
"what a shame," he said, rolling up his sleeves and showing off those strong forearms. "maybe we should talk about your behavior."
before you could get a single word out, nanami's heavy hands landed on your waist. he pulled you back, pressing you into his hard chest. "you've been waiting for this the whole time, haven't you?" he whispered into your hair. "teasing us so much."
"i... i have no idea what you're talking about," your voice shook, and your heart was thumping so loud they both definitely heard it. hiromi stepped even closer. his hands hit your thighs, bunching up your skirt. "oh, trust me, you know exactly what we're talking about."
they literally crushed you between them, and you felt the burning heat of their bodies. nanami grabbed your chin and pulled it up, forcing you to look at him. "i think it's time to teach you a lesson."
he didn't let you scream — his mouth covered yours in a demanding kiss. he kissed you deep, filling you up with himself, while hiromi went for your neck at the same time, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on your skin. your head started spinning and reality started to blur.
nanami pulled back from your lips for a second and then with one sharp, confident move he grabbed you by the waist. before you could even gasp, you were up in the air. he held you there, making your legs spread wide and hooking your knees over his arms. now you were basically hanging on him — your back pressed against his chest, and you were completely open in front of both of them.
your short skirt rode up to your waist, leaving you in just thin panties. nanami went back to your ear, nibbling on your lobe and cheek before sliding down to your neck. meanwhile, higuruma slowly unbuttoned your blouse, button by button, and as the fabric parted, he started biting your chest, making you arch in kento’s arms.
"wait— mmnh! hiromi..." you gasped, "there're cameras in the elevator... maybe we should go..."
"don't worry 'bout that, darling," nanami laughed low and soft, pressing his lips to your shoulder. "don't you worry your pretty little head."
hiromi finally threw your shirt open and slowly moved down with kisses toward your stomach. "just enjoy what we're gonna do now, okay?"
he got down on his knees, and you felt his hot breath scorch your delicate skin. he didn't rush. first, his lips barely brushed the inside of your thighs, leaving light, almost weightless kisses that sent an electric charge through your body. you felt nanami tighten his grip on your knees from behind, locking you in the air; you literally couldn't move.
"look how wet she is. perfect," hiromi rasped, looking at how the slick glistened on your already damp pussy. "you wanted this, didn't you? for us to see how much this little pussy leaks when it's needy?"
"n-nngh!... hiromi…" your moan drowned in the quiet hum of the elevator as he lifted two fingers and unceremoniously stretched your folds apart to fully expose you. at first, he just teased you with the tip of his tongue, short and wet strokes. you felt him lick away the drops, smacking his lips, savoring your taste.
"mmngh! haah! please…" you jerked in nanami’s arms, but he just held you tighter against his chest. "hold on, sweetie, we're just gettin' started," he whispered in your ear, and at that moment, he started to slowly rotate your hips in circular motions.
those circles made you literally rub against hiromi’s face. you felt the stubble on his chin, his nose pressing into your already swollen clit, and his tongue going right into your soaking pussy. wet, obscene sounds echoed in the cramped elevator.
"haah! more… nngh!" you weren't in control of your sounds anymore, gasping with pleasure. "oh yeah," hiromi growled, not pulling away for a second, "you're so sweet. i'm gonna lick you dry 'til you start beggin' us to stop."
his pace picked up. he went rougher now. hiromi didn't tease anymore. he took your clit between his lips and started sucking on it hungrily like he’d fuckin' die if he didn't.
"a-ah! hiromi! nngh-aa!" you screamed, throwing your head back on nanami’s shoulder while he kissed your cheek, holding you in place, and your cry echoed through the tight cabin.
hiromi’s tongue went deep between your stretched folds, licking everything inside, while the two fingers he’d managed to shove in kept roughly stretching you, opening every millimeter of your tender flesh for his mouth. loud, squelching sounds of your pussy and the wet sounds of his mouth filled the elevator.
"mmm, look what you're doin' to us," nanami kept rotating your pelvis, forcing you to grind even harder onto hiromi’s tongue. "you wanted this, didn't you? walkin' 'round in front of us in those skirts that show off your ass?"
"haah! mmngh… ahh! more… more!" you didn't even know what you were saying anymore. the man behind you didn't give you a second's break — his palm covered your mouth, muffling your next moan. "hiromi, please… mmmngh-ah!" you broke free from nanami’s hand, and your moans got louder. "yes! right there! ahh-h!"
nanami pulled his hand away from your face only to sink into your lips, catching your next whimper. "stick out your tongue, baby," he whispered, and you obeyed before you could even think. "come on."
as soon as you parted your mouth and the tip of your tongue peeked out, nanami let out a low growl and bit into your lips. he captured your tongue with his lips and started sucking on it, slow and greedy. "mmmmmfff!.. kento!... " you moaned right into his mouth, feeling your whole body tighten like a string.
nanami sucked your tongue rhythmically, like he owned it, making you gasp for air. meanwhile, higuruma, feeling your reaction, stretched your folds even wider and sucked on your clit with twice the force. "mmmngh... most perfect sweet pussy. gonna eat this little swollen clit up."
your sounds turned totally incoherent, becoming a solid stream of moans and ragged breaths mixed with whimpers. nanami pulled away from your tongue for a second, his whisper brushing right against your lips. "good girl. hear how loud you're bein' for us?"
your body was stretched to the limit, like a wire about to snap. nanami kept dominantly sucking your tongue, cutting off your oxygen and making you choke on your own moans while his hips rhythmically rotated your pelvis, grinding you into hiromi’s face. you thrashed convulsively in kento’s arms, feeling everything inside tighten into an unbearably hard, hot knot.
higuruma, feeling your orgasm coming, stretched your already swollen folds with his fingers until it almost hurt, and for the last time, sucked your clit in as deep as possible, licking it frantically. a loud, dominant squelching filled the cramped elevator.
"a-a-ah! kent— oh god, i'm gonna... mmmngh-a-a-a!" your scream broke into a rasp as the first wave of orgasm literally ripped through you.
you felt your muscles inside start to contract uncontrollably, pulsing hot wetness right onto hiromi’s face. you shuddered all over, your legs on nanami’s shoulders shaking with a fine tremor. kento pulled away from your tongue at that moment just to catch your wide-open mouth in a silent scream and greedily breathe in your orgasmic moan.
you gasped, your head falling onto nanami’s shoulder as white spots swam before your eyes. hiromi didn't stop even when you started twitching in convulsions. he kept greedily licking and sucking up your slick, which was now dripping down his chin and lips.
"hiromi, stop... ah... i can't anymore..." you went limp in kento’s arms, feelin' a heavy, leaden weakness spread through your body. you barely breathed, pressing your forehead against nanami’s shoulder. your body still shook with small, lingerin' tremors, and your head was a total vacuum. you were literally floating in the clouds after such a crushing orgasm, feeling like soft, pliable clay in their hands.
but the blissful silence didn't last long. nanami pulled back a bit to look at your face and took you by the chin, forcing your blurred gaze to focus on him.
"you think that’s it, darling?" his voice sounded scary calm and low. "you really think we're gonna let you come just once?"
your eyes widened. you tried to say something, but only a weak, ragged exhale escaped your throat. "what're you..."
hiromi slowly pulled away and got up from his knees. his lips glistened wetly, and there was a streak of your juices on his chin that he didn't even think about wipin' off. he looked down at you, fixing his shirt cuffs.
"that was just the start," he tossed out, and his voice vibrated in the tight cabin. you were still hangin' in nanami’s arms, legs shaking, and your mind was fading. "n-no... wait..." you tried to pull your thoughts together, "someone could walk in right now... the dispatcher... he might hear through the intercom..."
nanami just laughed low against your neck, and that sound made you shrink. he didn't let you go. instead, he shifted his grip to get comfortable and started to slowly, intentionally rub your aching, oversensitive cunt against his huge, rock-hard cock through the fabric of his pants.
"ah!" you sobbed, whimpering from the unbearable pleasure that bordered on torture. "nanami..." "we could just call the dispatcher again so help comes right now," kento whispered, keepin' up the methodical grind against you, squeezin' out new portions of wetness that now fell in heavy drops and dripped onto the elevator floor. your heels had been lyin' in the corner for a while now. "is that what you want? you want us to get pulled out of here right now?"
he didn't stop, and you felt his hardness throb, promisin' somethin' way bigger. at that moment, hiromi stepped in close. he cupped your face in his palms and sank into your lips with a deep, greedy kiss. you tasted yourself mixed with his hot spit — intimate, and crazy turning you on.
"m-m-m," he hummed into your mouth, pulling back only a millimeter. "is this what you want?" you should've said "yes." you should've screamed 'bout how they broke all the rules, how hierarchy was trashed, and how you're all gonna get fired in disgrace. you should've stopped this.
but you didn't. your first orgasm was so mind-blowing that all you could think about was the throbbing weight you felt with your ass through nanami’s clothes. you couldn't even dream of just one of them in your wildest fantasies, but getting both at once? that was the kind of extreme greed they write about in books.
“n-no…” you aggressively shook your head, completely forgetting you were in the damn elevator of an office building. your hands dug into higuruma’s shoulders on their own, and you started desperately, almost insanely grinding against the man behind you in every way possible, begging for more with your body alone.
hiromi gave a faint, barely noticeable smile without taking his eyes off you, watching the way you writhed in kento’s hands. “that’s what we thought. dirty girl… you spent months tempting your bosses just so they’d fuck you at the same time?”
you barely heard him. his words drowned in the rush of blood pounding in your ears, and you only nodded quickly, feverishly, agreeing with every word he said. “c’mon, baby,” nanami caught you with one hand, giving you more space, “use your hands. take my pants off.”
with trembling fingers, you reached behind you as much as the cramped space allowed and touched his cock through the fabric for the first time. nanami let out a low, rough groan and pushed himself into your palm, rolling his hips forward. you tried to feel more of him, but kento only tightened his grip on your waist.
“baby, i just had to sit there without getting to taste you. you’d better hurry up.” you frantically searched for his belt buckle, but your fingers wouldn’t cooperate. you couldn’t see what you were doing behind your back, and helpless little whines started slipping out of you.
“i-i can’t do it… kento, i can’t…” you sobbed, tears blurring your vision. nanami laughed quietly, enjoying your desperation. “what an impatient girl, huh?”
he jerked his hips sharply to help you, and finally you managed to undo the belt. then the button and zipper gave in too. his pants slipped down, and immediately, without waiting, you covered his cock with your hand over his boxers. nanami threw his head back, sucking in air through his teeth with a hiss. you moaned too — just the thought of him being inside you turned you into a melted, shapeless mess.
by then, hiromi already pulled his pants down slightly. you froze as you looked at him. his cock looked intimidating: long, heavy, veins standing out clearly along it, the tip already wet. exactly the one you imagined whenever you touched yourself.
you breathed heavily, your pussy still pulsing after your orgasm while your hands already pulled down the blond man’s boxers behind you. the second his cock came free, it pressed against your ass with a dull thud. you felt the heat of it against your skin.
nanami wrapped a hand around himself and slowly dragged the tip over your untouched back hole first. panic shot through you instantly, your voice turning high and almost frightened. “kento!.. please, kento…”
he immediately buried himself against your neck, kissing you greedily with his mouth open, leaving your skin wet and burning. “relax,” he whispered, his voice vibrating through your body. “we’re not going there… for now.”
you relaxed a little, but the realization crashed over you in another wave: that meant they were both going to fuck you. at the same time.
your thoughts didn’t even have time to form into words before higuruma stepped closer. he cupped your face, gently but firmly sucking on your lower lip before pulling away and looking directly into your eyes.
“if it hurts, just tell us, okay?” his voice sounded serious, almost gentle. “we won’t do anything that’ll hurt you. we’re here to give you what you’ve been begging for all this time. tell me you understand.”
you only nodded shakily, unable to force out a single word. “use your words, sweetheart,” nanami insisted, pressing his cock against your lower back. you swallowed hard, your voice rough from all the screaming and moaning. “i… i understand. yeah. please…”
nanami adjusted his grip on you more comfortably, one arm still holding your weight while the other slowly, carefully guided his cock. at first, he only teased you with it, dragging the tip through your folds, coating himself in all your slickness, practically soaking himself in your juices before finally giving one decisive thrust.
he pushed in slowly, giving you time to feel every inch of his impossible thickness. you cried out instantly and grabbed onto higuruma’s shoulders with a death grip. meanwhile, hiromi pressed himself flush against you, holding your hips steady and helping you keep your balance while his eyes tracked every shaky breath you took.
he really was huge. you felt him literally forcing your insides apart, pushing so deep that every experience you’d ever had before suddenly felt like some pathetic joke. your head fell back, your moans breaking apart into weak little whines.
“mmmngh! kento… haa-ah… hurts… no, feels good… god—!” you choked on the words as he filled you completely. “that’s it, sweetheart, take all of me,” nanami rasped, his voice vibrating through your body.
“you’re too big… kento, you’re too big…” “i know, baby,” he started moving inside you slowly, deeply, “it’ll feel better soon. just relax for me.”
while that happened, higuruma kissed his way down your neck to your chest, which already spilled out of your bra cups. he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking greedily while nanami kept thrusting into you from behind.
“fuck…” kento growled, picking up the pace. “knew you’d have a fucking heavenly pussy… she’s squeezing me so tight.” all you could do was whine and sob. “ah! mmngh!! feels so good… more… haaah!”
“yeah?” higuruma pulled away from your chest, his gaze turning sharp and hungry. “it’s about to feel even better.” nanami cupped your face with both hands, turned you toward him, and crashed his mouth against yours in a deep kiss. “take a breath,” he ordered right against your lips.
you were already completely fucked stupid from his cock and the heat of their bodies. the second you gasped for air, you felt another huge, hard shape starting to push into you. hiromi entered you from the front, and you practically whimpered into nanami’s kiss while your fingers dug into higuruma’s shirt hard enough to make the fabric strain.
the moment he fully pushed inside, stretching you beyond anything imaginable, you screamed so loudly it felt like your voice tore through the entire building. “oh god! god! fuck… fuck! a-ah-ahh!”
tears spilled from your eyes automatically from the shock and overwhelming fullness. nanami laughed low against your lips, licking away the salty wetness. “no god here, sweetheart. we’re the ones making you scream like that.”
both of them stayed still for a moment, letting your body adjust to the unbearable stretch. hiromi’s hand squeezed your breast possessively while nanami bit at your shoulder and every patch of exposed skin he could reach.
it felt like forever or maybe only a few seconds — you had no idea anymore. the only thing you knew was that you needed them. “more… want more… please…”
“our girl’s getting greedy, huh?” higuruma smirked while looking at your flushed face. “one cock isn’t enough anymore? now you always want two?” then they started moving. together. hard. rhythmic.
it felt like your pussy was about to split apart, your whole body turning into one shaking, dripping mess. you moaned and whimpered while they kept taking turns kissing you, your chin already soaked with spit, your face damp with sweat and their touches. saliva and slick ran down your neck and chest, and you were pretty sure there was already a puddle forming on the elevator floor beneath you.
their movements turned sharp and perfectly synchronized, and you felt them practically pounding you into the narrow space between them. nanami set a deep, animalistic pace from behind while hiromi matched every thrust from the front, forcing your body to stretch to its absolute limit. the cramped elevator filled with unbearable wet sounds: skin slapping against skin, heavy male growls, and your endless, choking moans mixed with the smell of all your arousal.
“ah! haaah… nngh! fuck, kento… romi… a-ahh!” you cried out when they bumped against each other inside you, trapping your womb between them.
“look at this fucking mess,” hiromi rasped without taking his eyes off the place where your bodies merged together. “you’re sucking us in so greedily. such a needy little hole for your bosses.”
nanami grabbed your hair, pulling your head back slightly so he could see your face twisted with pleasure. “hear those sounds, baby?” he slammed into you hard, and the elevator filled with a loud, filthy squelch. “that’s all you. you’re so fucking wet we’re practically drowning in you.”
“mmmngh! yes… more… ” you couldn’t even control the saliva dripping down your chin anymore, mixing with their sweat. your face stayed damp, your hair stuck to your forehead, and your eyes rolled back.
higuruma leaned forward and crashed his mouth against yours, swallowing your moan with his lips. his tongue moved just as aggressively as his cock while his hand kept squeezing your breast hard enough to hurt. when he finally pulled away, a thin string of saliva stretched between you before breaking against your neck.
hiromi tightened his grip on your thighs even more, lifting your hips so you stayed completely open for both of them. the elevator smelled heavy with sweat, bodies, and slick, and the only thing breaking the silence were the filthy sounds of their bodies slamming against your ass.
nanami slowly moved his hand down the front of your body. his fingers, soaked with your slick, found your clit. “look at this little thing,” he rasped, his voice vibrating through your spine. “look how swollen it is. you’re pulsing so much, sweetheart.”
he started playing with you, and the elevator filled with another wet, messy sound from his fingers moving against you. every touch sent a shock through your body.
“mmmngh! kento… ah!” you sobbed shakily as your thighs started trembling uncontrollably. “please… i wanna come… i’m gonna… mmhnm!!" “no,” he cut you off. he gave one deep, crushing thrust. “don’t even think about coming without permission.”
their pace grew even faster, turning into something raw and primal. nanami’s heavy thrusts from behind crashed against hiromi’s from the front. the mirror in the elevator completely fogged over now, thick drops of condensation sliding down it just like the sweat running along your back. you could barely breathe anymore, your moans dissolving into broken little whimpers.
“tell me,” nanami suddenly pinched your clit hard between his fingers, making your back arch violently as you screamed. “who does this sweet, greedy pussy belong to?”
“a-ahh! yours! only yours! always only yours!” you practically sobbed the words out, losing the last of your sanity from the overwhelming pleasure. “good girl,” hiromi whispered smoothly against your damp shoulder before kissing it. “such a good girl. keep taking us, baby.”
your pussy pulsed violently, burning from the friction and impossible fullness. every thrust from nanami and hiromi forced more slick out of you, thick drops falling onto the floor and adding to the puddle already spreading beneath your feet. you felt completely used, ruined, and unbelievably happy in exactly that role.
the tension inside you coiled into a tight, unbearable knot that was about to snap. from behind, nanami made one last, crushing thrust, driving into you to the very hilt with a loud, wet sound, while hiromi made a powerful lunge forward at the same time, pinning your uterus in a vise between the two of them.
at that moment, nanami pressed hard against your pulsing clit, and that was the final straw. you literally buckled in their arms. the elevator walls started to swim before your eyes, and a series of choking, ragged sobs ripped from your throat.
"mmmngh-a-a-a! god! god! i— aah!" you gasped, feeling the first wave of orgasm paralyze your legs. your pussy started to contract convulsively and rhythmically around them, trying to squeeze every last drop out. you felt every vein on their members, every movement that now felt a hundred times sharper. a frantic, wet squelching filled the tight cabin — it was your juices, forced out by their pressure, literally splashing onto the floor and mixing with sweat.
you felt everything inside flip. your stomach muscles cramped, you threw your head back aggressively, pressing the back of your skull into nanami’s shoulder, and you just stopped breathing for several long seconds. you were shaking so hard that hiromi had to grip your thighs in a death lock to keep you from sliding to the floor.
"yes, just like that," nanami growled, feeling your pussy literally suck him in. "cum on our cocks, our pretty girl." you could not answer. you only whimpered and shuddered in a long, agonizingly beautiful ecstasy. tears of happiness and shock rolled down your wet cheeks.
you were still shaking from the lingering waves when you felt the blonde’s breath grow heavy, turning into a muffled growl. "fuck, you are so tight...so perfect baby..." he rasped, driving into you one last time with such force that you felt his pulse at your very center.
hiromi, feeling your tremors and kento’s frantic rhythm, also stopped holding back. his movements became sharp, almost rough; he literally slammed you into nanami, wringing the last moans out of you.
for a moment, everything froze. you felt nanami shudder through his whole body, his fingers digging into your thighs until it hurt, and he poured into you in a hot, pulsing stream. almost at the same time, hiromi let out a low, guttural sound and also went still, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, giving all his tension to you.
"so good mmm..." you went totally limp in their arms, feeling the scalding heat of their seed spread inside you. a sharp, mechanical sound and a sudden jolt of the elevator under your feet made you all freeze.
"hello, elevator number four? we have recorded a stop; we are restarting the system now. is everything alright with you?"
I REALLY REALLY LIKE YOU (so won’t you stay the night?) w/c: 16.1k - ; HIGURUMA HIROMI x F!READER
✎ᝰ you like him sooo much. you don’t think he feels as strongly as you do.
࿄ ! warnings — porn WITH LOTS of plot, MINORS DNI, piv, very explicit smut, protected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, doctor!female reader with a nipple piercing (very self indulgent, soz), established relationship, miscommunication trope, angst-ish, praise, dacryphilia if you squint, dirty talk, very soft pleasure dom!higuruma, slight age gap (reader is 27, higuruma is 35)
/note. first fic i’ve written in almost two years omg sedate me (also realised just how illiterate i’ve become so please bare with me on any typos i tried!!)
sometimes it’s hard to get a read on higuruma, you think. he’s somewhat of a stoic person, face unchanged by even the most devastating or sanguine of news, and it’s no different now that you’ve started dating him officially. you consider yourself lucky enough that you get to see him outside of the shell that is his “overworked public defender” exterior, and even luckier that you get to call this man your lover, partner, darling of intrigue (or, as you describe him to your friends, your dear boyfriend).
however, something has felt… off as of late. nothing that would require you to raise a red flag of warning, sure, but the only way this feeling could be describe is that it’s akin to the taste of milk the day before it’s supposed to be thrown out — it smells good enough, but the beginning forms of congealing and clotting have collected along the bottom of the carton, and with enough shaking, would end up in your cup of warm tea unsuspectingly…
and as of right now, your relationship with higuruma has felt like the inception of expired milk. granted, when prompted by curious friends and family about your budding relationship with the man, you generally have nothing but good things to say about him. higuruma is a gentleman, and he’s kind, and remembers all the things you’ve told him in the short times you’ve been seeing each other, and altruistic to his very core. he’s also a very generous lover in the bedroom, so your sexual compatibility has never been considered as something to ring alarms about. everything should be great…
but it isn’t.
you see, while you’ve only been together for a few months, give or take, you feel as if many a milestone should have been crossed by now… the most important one (in your eyes, anyway) being that you stay the night at each other’s place.
and yet, it hasn’t happened. you think to all the times where you and higuruma have finished fooling around in the comfort of his bedroom, out of breath and very sated, and the dimming of the sky begins to brush over the horizon — and like clockwork, you sit up, scratching the soft skin of your belly awkwardly as you say, “gosh, it’s getting late.”
the response you’ve so desperately sought out for was a lidded eyed higuruma, who would be looking up at you with so much desire and yearning, his arms outstretched to wrap around your body to pull you in, with barely a word uttered between you two as he says, “i would really like if you could stay.”
unfortunately, that has never been the case during these few months, where he would sit up next to you, nodding owlishly as he helped you collect your clothes, calling a taxi while helping you to the door and kissing your forehead goodbye.
the disappointment in itself feels unfounded and unwarranted. he’s a nice man. he never leaves you high and dry, always pays for your ride home, ensures that you text him when you get there, and he’s sending you a good night text where he asks when you both may see each other again.
the guilt you feel for the rejection that climbs up your throat when he doesn’t offer you respite at his home is insurmountable, to say the least. it’s no different at your place either: by the time you’ve disjointed from his sweaty grasp, he’s already jingling his car keys while looking for his displaced socks.
it doesn’t make any sense to you. did he not see this going beyond a few dates and sex? he had already introduced you to his cat, shifu, and likewise had became acquainted with your own kitten, popo. it felt incredibly serious in your eyes. you had gushed about him to your friends, posted him online via fleeting 24hr story posts, but his existence in your life was there.
so what was going on?
it feels like your day has been dragging on after having spent the morning in your own bed yet again, your mind going back to a few nights ago where you had a nice home cooked dinner with higuruma, with the night — of course — ending in sexual intimacy (you think the few glasses of pinot noir and a seductive carbonara made you a deer in headlights to your boyfriend’s whims, despite all your warring feelings), and, like clockwork, with higuruma picking up your clothes as he dialled for the taxi to come pick you up, much too drunk to drive you home (and apparently too out of his wits to suggest that you stay the night).
your eyes stay glued to the text chain between the both of you, with the last two of your messages having been left on delivered since last night — albeit they’re nothing out of the ordinary, just you tell higuruma you made it home safely and that you couldn’t wait to see him again… and nonetheless, the texts stay unread, taunting you through the screen.
a deep sigh leaves your chest, and you close your phone to look off into the distance (the aforementioned being the sharply lit hallway of your workplace, with patients and nurses going in and out of their respective rooms). just then, one of your colleagues-turned-friends rounds the corner, and you look up to see shoko, hands on her hips when she sees you sulking on the waiting chair outside your office.
“you’re looking especially forlorn today,” she teases and you deadpan at her as she takes a seat next to you, nudging you gently. “what’s up with you, huh?”
you nibble on your bottom lip, shaking your head. “it’s… it’s nothing,” to which shoko scoffs at, this time poking you with her foot.
“are you seriously going to try and lie to me right now?” she says, unimpressed. you shake your head.
“exactly,” she responds, poking your arm. “so i’ll ask again: what’s up with you?”
you huff, looking down at your phone, edging down a fingertip to switch the screen on just to see a whole lot of nothing (save for a the same text messages staring up at you) on the OLED.
shoko snatches the phone from your hand before you can protest, and her eyes glance downwards and her shoulders sag in immediate knowing. “ohhhh… it’s him.”
you don’t even have to answer, nor do you really want to.
she nudges you again, this time with her elbow. “did something terrible happen with him? why is he not answering your texts?”
“it’s… stupid,” you sigh, shrugging to which shoko scoffs.
“it’s obviously not stupid if it has you moping around like a heartbroken, lovesick tween,” she snorts, to which you nudge her this time. “if he’s making you feel like this, then maybe you should talk to him about it.”
you huff, snatching your phone back. “it’s not that simple… we’ve only been dating three months… that’s nothing in the adult world.”
shoko rolls her eyes, unimpressed. “don’t give me that bullshit. you’re a grown ass woman, and i’ve never known you to not communicate your feelings like one either—”
she then pokes your foot with hers. “and who cares if it’s only been three months? it’s not like you’re asking him to get one knee and buy a ring, you’re asking for attention. that’s not exactly a big ask.”
you sigh resoundingly and defeatedly, shoko’s words reminiscent of what you should’ve been thinking if you were a mature, adjusted woman.
“i know, i know… it’s just… when we have sex—” (the word is uttered under your breath, your eyes darting around the near empty hospital hallway), “he knows just what to say and do and everything seems perfect.”
you swallow thickly. “the we finish and he acts like he doesn’t know how to speak to me… then in return, i don’t know how to speak to him.”
you then laugh bitterly. “god, how pathetic does that sound?”
shoko stares at you for five solid seconds before slapping a palm against her forehead, to which you sit up in alarm.
“sho—?!”
she just as quickly responds with an iteration of your name. “you’re not pathetic,” she says, voice firm. “you’re human, and you just happen to be caught up with an emotionally constipated man. it happens to the best of us. either way, none of this is your fault in particular.”
your eyes begin to water slightly, and you have to tuck your thumbs into the sleeves of your jumper to dab at the inner corners of your eyes. you lean your head on shoko’s shoulder, sniffling quietly.
“what do i do? do i break up with him—?”
shoko snorts again, shaking her head. “you don’t have to go to those extremes just yet, silly.”
she then throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side-hug that has you leaning even further into her hold. “you should definitely talk to him, though. sit his ass down and look him in the eyes and say, “we need to talk,” and if he’s half the man you say he is, he’ll listen. it’s that simple.”
you nod against her. “you’re always right, shoko… that settles it. i’ll talk to him.”
“of course i am,” she teases with a grin, pressing her lips to the crown of your head gently.
just then, her pager goes off with a loud beep and she groans, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze before standing.
“i’m off to finish off my rounds. i’ll find you in your office later, yeah?”
you nod again, smiling up at her. “yeah, i’ll see you then, sho’.”
shoko disappears with a wave over her shoulder, her heels a familiar click clack against the tile as she slides around the corner, and you’re left with your phone and unanswered texts all over again.
your stomach churns, fluttering with anxiety at the idea of confronting him, or worse, upsetting him about something as menial as this (though, clearly not with the way it has consumed you to the point of fatalistic worry that your romance is already over before it could properly blossom into something more).
either way, shoko was right. you deserve to know your place with a man you actually see a future with, no matter how early or budding the prospect is.
you unlock your phone again, fingers padding until higuruma’s contact comes up on the screen: hiromi <3
you ring him without so much a second glance, paying no heed to what he could be doing right now as a man of such a busy and demanding career.
the cell rings once, twice, a third time— then it clicks, higuruma’s warm voice through the speaker.
“hello?”
you can hear the clicking of multiple keyboards in the background, and he’s obviously in the middle of working, that much you do know, so you can’t help but let out a puff of relief at the fact he’s picked up almost instantly.
“hey, hiromi. it’s me,” you breathe, a straying finger playing with a lock of your hair absentmindedly.
your name leaves his lips just as breathlessly, and you have to bite back at smile at the fact you can just hear the corners of his mouth lift up in his voice.
there’s a slight pause with some shuffling, and suddenly it’s a lot quieter. he’s giving you his full attention, which eases some of the pressure in your mind.
“is everything okay? I don’t usually expect to hear from you during a working day.”
you let out a little puff of air, as if to deflate yourself like a balloon and a dirty spoon. “no, no, everything’s fine, i just… wanted to ask if you were busy friday night, since you, uh… never responded to my text.”
his voice catches from beyond the speaker and he sighs, and you can hear him rake a hand through his hair.
“i’m sorry. i got caught up in work, and i meant to open your message but i got caught up in work and it slipped my mind—”
there’s a slight moment where higuruma exhales, mumbling quietly, before he clears his throat. “to answer your question, yes, i’m free on friday. did… you want to do something?”
you pretend to hum thoughtfully, as if you hadn’t been mulling over these date plans for the past few days since you’ve last seen him. “i was thinking dinner at my place? if that’s alright with you, of course.”
higuruma laughs softly, a slightly crackle to the sound. “i’d love that. what should i bring?”
“just yourself,” you say teasingly, a fond smile now lighting up your entire face. “maybe a bottle of wine but that’s not obligatory in the slightest.”
he laughs softly — low and warm, the sound washing over the phone line like liquid honey, so much so that you almost forget that the purpose of this impromptu date is to talk to him about the future of their relationship.
emphasis on almost.
“you sure? i have no trouble picking something up.”
you shake your head, nibbling at the skin of your bottom lip as his words drape over you. “really… i don’t mind.”
“if you insist, my love. i will be there around seven?”
you hum sweetly. “seven is perfect.”
“seven it is,” he responds, and you hear some movement from behind the screen and higuruma coughs. “i should get back to work now but… i will see you on friday?”
“o-oh yeah, of course,” you stammer, a little shy now for some reason. “don’t let me keep you. yes… i’ll see you then. bye hiromi.”
he murmurs your name with the same adieu, voice terribly soft, as it always is when he’s talking to you.
when the line clicks dead, all you’re left with is silence and the quiet ache in your chest that seems to ebb and flow but never truly go away when it comes to him.
you stare at your phone a moment longer, before stuffing it into your pocket and getting up from the chair.
friday suddenly can’t come quick enough.
ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ
the rest of the week comes and goes, and before you know it, friday evening is just mere minutes away.
you walk around your apartment doing some finishing touches while dinner cooks: fluffing up your couch pillows, making sure your little cat stays tucked in and asleep in the spare bedroom, fixing the angles of your framed photos, and of course, making sure your bedroom is presentable lest you partake in any after meal activities (which, of course, is purely contingent on how the conversation with higuruma goes, and that conversation will be had, you have made sure of it).
you then saunter to your bedroom mirror, hands smoothing over your dark evening dress as you take a mirror selfie, sending it to your friends who insist that you’re not too dressed up, as they respond with a flurry of heart eyes, compliments and gushing words.
with some newfound confidence, you throw your phone onto the bed, admiring yourself in the reflection for a moment, and the thought of higuruma’s reaction to how you look sends your knees into a slight buckle, to which you scold yourself over.
“composure, woman,” you grumble, storming back into the kitchen, your heels clacking alongside you in rhythmic fashion. “it’s not about that right now.”
unbeknownst to you, higuruma stands outside your apartment, glancing at himself through the metal of your numbered door, and he lifts a thumb to brush through his eyebrows and the front of his hair.
with one arm, he tightens his black tie against his crisp white shirt, balancing a bottle of pinot noir and a bouquet of dark orchids and lillies. he checks the time on his wristwatch once more, waiting for the clock to strike at exactly seven when he lifts a finger to press against the doorbell.
you’re back in the kitchen and checking on the starter when you hear it, gasping and muttering a few expletives under your breath as you click and clack to the front door, unlocking it and pulling it open, smiling up and expectantly at higuruma in all his glory.
“hey. right on time.”
a slow, steady curve of a smile spreads across his face as he takes you in — really looks at you — for the first time that week since your last rendezvous.
“you,” he says softly, voice already teetering on ragged, “are killing me.”
he steps forward, eyes scanning you up and down like he wants to permanently etch the image of you right now into his retinas and brain.
as bashful as ever, you bite back a smile, cheeks heating up at his very obvious appreciation. higuruma then gestures to the bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers in his hold. “these are for you. i know you said i didn’t need to bring anything but… it didn’t sit right with my conscience to show up empty handed while you dote on me.”
you awe at him, taking the the gifts into your arms, and stepping backwards into your apartment. “really, hiromi, you shouldn’t have… but please, come on. dinner will be ready in just a moment.”
hiromi steps in from behind you, and you don’t check to see that he’s already close to next to you as you get out a vase and fill it with water to accommodate for the lovely flowers.
he follows you inside, his gaze still roaming appreciatively over the way the smooth fabric of your dress curves over your hips as you walk. you can see his fingers twitch at his side from your periphery and you have to bite back a pleased smile at how well received your current get up is with the man lingering behind you.
“you look absolutely stunning, by the way,” he says, almost exasperated at the fact.
you look at him over your shoulder for a mere second, smiling as humbly as ever.
“thank you… you clean up well yourself,” you jest, with a teasing lilt to your voice.
you take out a vase, filling it up with water. “um, dinner won’t be ready for a little while so feel free to make yourself comfortable.”
all the while, hiromi just watches silently as you put the flowers he brought you into the vase. as if operating on pure instinct, he takes his blazer off, draping it over a dining room chair. his tie has already come a little loose.
he watches you bustle around the kitchen and youre yet to see that he just... stands there, watching you, so obviously taking in the way that you look.
you hum a little tune to yourself, getting out a couple plates as you finish up, eyes darting when it feels like you’re being watched from your peripheral vision.
you spin, wine glasses in your hand as you raise a brow at hiromi, walking over to where he leans by the dining room table.
“when i said make yourself comfortable, i meant make yourself at home. not watch me while i finish dinner.”
the corner of his lips twitches — like he knows he’s been caught.
he holds your gaze when you walk over, his eyes on you like an animal about to pounce on his prey, but when he catches you staring right at him, he has to look away for a moment and clear his throat, as if to signal that he was deep in thought and definitely not checking you out.
you huff, rolling your eyes as you place the glasses on the table. “the starter will be done soon… i just need to make sure that the wellington doesn’t burn and…”
you turn to him again as you trail off, hands moving from your hips to shoo him off. “now go away. snoop if you must. i’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
“snoop?” he echoes, feigning offense as he finally pushes off the table. "i’m just appreciating the view."
hiromi gives you a slow, crooked smile of appreciation coupled with defeat — rare and genuine from a man of his stoic disposition (has that been said before?) as he then turns to wander into your living room.
when you finish up like promised, placing two plates on the table: two identical dishes of shrimp risotto across the table, parallel, you wander off to the living room, and you find hiromi strewn across the couch like he owns the thing, and from where you stand, you see his fingers over the spine of one of your textbooks on the coffee table before pausing at a framed photo: you and your friends, arms all slung around each other, grinning like fools in front of cherry blossoms.
his thumb brushes over it gently, and you almost don’t want to call for him from where you’re greedily eating up the way he fits in your home.
instead, you compromise. you quietly walk back into the dining room, coughing loudly before shouting out.
“hiromi, your presence is wanted!”
“yes, ma'am.”
he’s already there before you know it, his long legs carry him the distance to the dining table in a few strides, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting.
“that smells good.”
“thank you,” you say, sitting down. “please, enjoy.”
he doesn't move right away.
instead, he just... watches you spoon up your food, and it’s only when you look up at him to wipe away some remnants from the corner of your mouth does he smile softly and pick up his spoon.
“then i’ll start before i embarrass myself by staring at you any longer.”
he takes a bite — and genuinely moans in appreciation.
“… this is incredible.”
you smile softly, a little flustered. “thank you… it’s just something i threw together. i’m glad you like it.”
he laughs a little to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.
“just something you threw together? bullshit. this is better than most restaurants here in tokyo.”
another bite: this time, a slightly bigger one. he savours it, closing his eyes as he tastes it on his tongue.
“where the hell did you learn to cook like this?”
you shrug, taking another spoonful into your mouth. “cooking’s fun. there’s actually not much to do as a working woman when you don’t have time for anything but work, eat and sleep… might as well make it more tolerable.”
hiromi pauses mid-bite, his eyes narrowing slightly. “are you saying you spend your spare time cooking?"
he stares at you, completely incredulous before a slow, crooked smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“you’re unreal.”
you raise a brow while hiding back a humble smile over the curve of your spoon. “i mean, what else could possibly better suited for my time? plus, i like cooking for people… makes me feel good.”
hiromi can't help the way his eyes rove over you again, lingering on your mouth, your neck, the smooth expanse of skin he can see above the neckline of your dress.
“you enjoy doing it for others, huh?” he teases, though there's a hint of something else in his voice. “and if you're the only person there? who do you cook for then?”
you ponder at that, taken aback at his faithfulness. “hm. i guess i’ve never really thought of it that way.”
you think for a moment, then takes a sip from your wine glass, sweet and red yet bitter and light. “i guess it’s a little different when it’s for myself… but that could be applied to almost everything in my life. i think you have to be slightly masochistic to be a doctor.”
a soft huff of laughter escapes him at that, his eyes warm and bright on yours over the rim of his glass.
“slightly masochistic, huh? is that a requirement for you doctors?”
hiromi takes another sip in tandem, tongue in cheek before he huffs again. “i guess that's how you end up working yourself into the ground for ungrateful patients and shitty hours."
“hey — takes one to know one,” you retort, raising a brow. “swap patients for clients and defendants and that’s basically your life to a t.”
hiromi tilts his head backward as if in thought before nodding in agreement, his shoulders shifting beneath his shirt.
“fair enough,” he concedes, lips curved in a wry smile. “though i get to charge them a hell of a lot more.”
he takes another bite, then:
“that being said... my shitty hours do come with a good salary.”
“oh?” you says, spooning another bite into your mouth. “here i thought that public defenders were one of the more oppressed groups in our judicial system.”
“ah—” he smirks, leaning forward slightly. “careful, doctor. i’m not just a public defender anymore.”
hiromi’s voice drops a notch — smooth, confident and it almost has your spine sitting up straight from the buzz of conduction that tickles up the nerves.
“i’ve got my own practice now. we handle civil litigation and criminal defense — you know, pro bono for those who need it most."
he watches you over his glass as he takes another sip, smacking his lips quietly as if to make a point.
“please don’t let the modest suits fool you. i can afford to take you out for more than just dinner.”
you raise your hands in mock surrender. “forgive me for my preconceived notions… and that’s very good to know.”
he laughs, low and warm that it has you grinning from bask of it, and there's a flicker of something proud in his eyes.
“not going to lie, i like that you didn’t know,” he admits, swirling the wine in his glass. “means you weren't after me for my bank account.”
his gaze lifts to meet yours, suddenly serious.
“...you were after me for me.”
it’s your turn to laugh quietly this time, leaning back in your chair.
“well, while i am glad to have given you that impression, i grew up relatively well off… men with money are a dime a dozen. it means very little to me in the grand scheme of things.”
hiromi’s lips quirk in an amused smile, eyes narrowing slightly. “is that right? have you dated a lot of rich men, doctor?”
you snort, leaning forward onto the palm of your hands as the man in front of you sets his fork down, his wine glass joining it in a quiet, soft thump. his eyes never leave your face. “do i give you that impression?”
“no, not at all,” he jibes, cheeks dimpling ever so faintly, “but i am beginning to wonder if I'm at risk here," he teases, but there's a hint of sincerity in his voice. "you might take one look at my paycheck and dump me for someone richer."
you shake your head, smiling a little. “au contraire, mr lawyer… all i can do is assure you in that—” and you top off his glass of red, before pouring some in your own.
“money just doesn’t impress me quite as much as you may think it does.”
you polish off your plate, looking at him. “now, are you done? the main is almost ready.”
hiromi blinks at you.
right. dinner.
you don’t fail to notice that he’s been sitting, staring at you the entire time. nevertheless, he recovers quickly with a curt nod, flashing you a lazy smile as he finally sets his silverware down.
“yes, i’m done. that was delicious, by the way… not that i expect anything less from you, doctor.”
he grins wider, raising his empty wine glass in a mock toast.
you rolls your eyes at him fondly, playfully brushing past his shoulder with the sway of your hip as you take his plate and your own to the kitchen behind where you eat.
the moment you walk away, hiromi’s eyes follow, lingering like a dedicated flame. he lets out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair and he tries his hardest to stay seated — fingers drumming once against the table — before finally standing and walking into the kitchen behind you.
he leans against the arched doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
“let me help.”
you look over at him, putting on your apron and taking out some folded oven gloves. “i would be a terrible hostess if i let my guest help me cook.”
he steps closer, too close; close enough to smell the vanilla in his hair that mingles with the faint citrus of your perfume.
“then consider it a rebellion," he teases, his voice low and gentle, "against good hosting."
his fingers graze yours as he takes the dish from your hands, the heat between them not just from the oven.
“let me do this… please?”
you raise a brow in contemplation before decidedly raising your hands in stark white defeat. “okay… fine. you’ve officially browbeaten me into submission,” and you rest your hands on your hips for a second, before lifting up a tray.
“here. you can take the pot of gravy to the table while i slice the wellington.”
he smiles triumphantly, taking the pot from you easily. he’s a little too smug, the look in those grey eyes justifiably victorious.
“i am good at that, you know," he says as he walks away. the words have a double meaning, and you can’t help think that the both of you know it.
he sets the dish down in the middle of the table, then returns to the kitchen again, finding his way behind you once again.
“i would hope so, mr lawyer,” you say, passing him a pot of potatoes. “now take this and sit down. i’ll be there with our second course of the evening.”
“yes, ma'am.”
the corners of his lips twitch, holding back a smile at the authoritative tone in your voice. you can tell he wants to tease you more, to say something cheeky and infuriating, but the side eye glance you give him makes him hold his tongue, bowing his head as he returns to the dining room.
he takes the potatoes like the committed one he is and sits, hands on his lap, a proper gentleman waiting for his meal.
but his eyes never leave you.
you return, with two plates of beef wellington and tenderstem broccoli (to which you’ve told hiromi that there is a difference and that it is superior to normal broccoli), sliding them onto the table.
you sit across from him once again. “well then… please enjoy.”
he looks down at the meal before him; and then, of course, there's you in front of him.
he has to swallow thickly so as to not give anything away in his voice, dark eyes lifting back to yours.
“thank you,” he says quietly. “this looks amazing.”
you beam at him, (and you subtly notice that you keep doing a lot of that tonight, but can it even be helped when in such gorgeous and suave company?), digging into your own portion.
hiromi chews and swallows, making little to no noise —but then says suddenly, "can i ask you something?"
you look up at him, mid bite, nodding. “of course.”
“why’d you go into neurosurgery?”
his voice is gentle yet serious, which is typical of hiromi’s nature. it’s one of things you like most about him.
he watches you closely as he waits for the answer, to which your lips curl a little at the corners as you think, your eyes flitting down to your plate. “it was the only specialty that didn’t make me want to off myself after every rotation.”
hiromi is surprised into a shocked, choking sort of laugh. his eyes roam over you, a slight smirk on his lips.
“that is... brutally honest.”
you laugh a little sheepishly, shaking your head.
“i’m sorry i don’t have a more politically correct answer… i’m sure if you asked me 4 years ago in the midst of med school, i would’ve said that i just want to help people…but it’s like you said: the people are ungrateful and the hours are long. and the pay always starts out to be downright abysmal.”
hiromi snorts, shaking his head almost ruefully.
“oh, believe me, i know how bad the hours are. and the pay is just a joke, so much so it feels like an insult. you can work yourself to the bone and there's no reward—just a slap on the back and a 'keep up the good work.'”
his fingers drum softly on the tabletop, like he can't stay still. he lets out a sigh, a tired sound, accompanied by the dark circles under his eyes, as if to serve as a physical reminder of their shared relatability.
“i get it. trust me… i get it.”
you nod, eyes softening. “yeah… it’s pretty much exactly that.” you then huffs, shaking your head. “but i don’t know… i like my job for the most part. i work with a lot of kids mostly, so that’s the silver lining. although, maybe not… while they’re a lot more pleasant than the adults i take care of… that makes the suffering oh, so much worse.”
“you..." he pauses, a look on his face you can’t quite name. "...you like kids?"
“mhmm,” you hum behind a sip of wine. “i love them… i especially adore the kids i work with…” and you say it all with a growing smile on your face, unknowing to you but ever so obvious to the man sat opposite you.
“i think someone who dislikes the world’s most innocent would be someone i wouldn’t particularly want to get to know in any capacity… how about you? do you like kids, hiromi?”
he doesn’t hesitate for even a second. “i do.”
the smile on his face is almost boyishly earnest when he says it— and he looks at you, with your soft, pretty features—and all he can picture is the way you'd look, a little swollen with a child in your belly.
he swallows, heat rising in his face. “... i like them a lot.”
this time, it’s your turn to be a little shocked, and you raise a brow. “really?” with blatant disbelief laden in your tone.
“huh. i never got that vibe from you.”
his lips twitch, caught somewhere between a smirk and an honest-to-god blush.
“you don't think i look the type?” he leans forward slightly, voice dropping. "just because i spend my days arguing with assholes in court doesn't mean i don't want to come home to tiny little people who call me daddy.”
he says it casually (too casually) but his eyes flicker to yours for just a second, testing the waters.
“...i have always wanted kids.”
you smile at that, chuckling at his choice of words.
“so, let me get this straight: you’re a 35 year old defence attorney who earns a decent living, loves kids and is dashingly handsome? what exactly were you doing before we met?”
his cheeks flush even warmer at your words, squirming a little in his seat. hiromi ends up just mirroring your own smile, dimple in his right cheek flashing as he does.
“not finding the right woman.” he lets out a mock sort of sigh. “i was starting to think I'd die alone, honestly.”
you let out a genuine laugh at the pure cynicism in his words. “oh? pray tell. what was the dating scene like before i came and saved you?”
“a nightmare,” he deadpans, shaking his head. “i dated this one woman who kept asking me what my net worth was. another one wanted me to choose between her and my career, and that's not even including the ones who just... couldn't handle the long hours, or the demanding work of being with a defence attorney of all people.”
hiromi gives you a rueful smile, but there's a subtle trace of bitterness in his eyes. “i was starting to think my only life partner would be my job.”
you hum sympathetically at that. “i can imagine…” and you trail off, before letting curiosity slip into the conversation.
“did you ever expect to be married by now?” and then you’re backtracking a little, sheepishly waving your hands. “not that there’s anything wrong with being unmarried at your age—!” you add, to which hiromi laughs at your sincerity, leaning backwards into the seat, arms folded.
“and, of course i don’t think you’re old by any means… I’m just… curious, is all.”
he makes a noise of understanding, nodding. “i’ve always thought i would be married before i turned thirty-five,” he admits quietly, taking another sip of the wine in his glass.
hiromi looks down at his hands, a little abashed as he says, “...i know, i know. it doesn't make sense. i’m relatively young; i’m successful. hell, i’ve even been told i’m attractive, which is really strange to say out loud.”
you laugh and so does he, but there's that rueful sort of edge to it again. “i guess i just never met the right woman.”
“did you ever get close to?” you ask, finger dancing over the rim of your cup.
he lets out a humorless sort of huff, scrubbing a hand over his face as he thinks.
“once or twice,” he confesses, “i got close a couple of times. things were going well, and i thought we were on the same page, and then... suddenly, they'd realize the hours were too stressful. or i was too obsessed with my job. or we just wanted... different things.”
hiromi glances at you across the table, grey eyes steady as he says, “it never worked out for one reason or another.”
you hum again, pondering… thinking.
“that’s fair… unfortunately, i can’t fault it. long hours can really make or break a relationship. it’s always that, coupled with miscommunication.”
“miscommunication,” he repeats, almost grimly, the word itself leaving a tart taste in his mouth.
he says your name, shaking his head. “you have no idea. i’ve been told i was too 'emotionally distant', that i don't show enough affection. that i expect people to read my mind. hell, i’ve even had women walk out because they said i was 'too intense'.”
he snorts.
“i’m not that difficult, am i?”
you go noticeabley quiet at that, eyes widening before they dart back to your finger playing with the rim of your wine glass. “difficult?…that’s a loaded word.”
he cocks his head at the hesitance in your voice, as if he can practically see you gearing up to respond with some sort of placating bullshit— you're too nice, too kind —so he speaks before you can.
“please," he says softly. “be honest. i can take it.”
you open and close your mouth, looking at him with pitying eyes for a second before sighing defeatedly, looking down at your half eaten meal.
“i actually think it might be the opposite… you’re not…” and you trail off, nibbling your bottom lip gently.
“i don’t know how to articulate this in a way that doesn’t sound too presumptuous or… insulting.”
“then don't sugarcoat it.”
hiromi’s voice is quiet but steady, eyes locked on yours despite the forlorn look of something… not as hard hitting as agony, but not as unassuming as pain.
"i’m asking because i want to know. not for comfort. so say it—whatever it is."
you sigh again, this time deeply.
“i don’t think you’re intense enough.”
he blinks at that, caught completely off guard by the response. you could see that he was bracing himself for something bad — probably waiting for you to list all the things he was used to hearing from past relationships. this was probably the last thing he was expecting.
hiromi’s lips part, grey eyes widening ever so slightly.
“...say that again?”
you look up at him from your plate, swallowing thickly.
“…i… i like you a lot, hiromi… and i know it’s very early days into this relationship,” and you say that a little quieter than the rest, “but sometimes… sometimes it feels like you don’t… like me all that much, at least, not as much as i do.”
you scoff, face warming a bit under the strobe light of the dining room. “god, i sound like an immature school girl with an unrequited crush.”
hiromi’s throat seemingly goes completely dry, all the air leaving his lungs in a quiet whoosh. “...what makes you think that?”
you shrug, shaking your head, picking up your fork to drag a stray piece of broccolini stem across your plate, back and forth, back and forth.
“it’s silly now that i think about saying it out loud.”
immediately, his expression softens, almost pained by the hesitance in your voice.
he looks at the uncertainty in your eyes and you don’t fail to notice that his arms twitch, as if he wills them to stay by his side.
“please,” he repeats softly. “tell me. why would you think for even a second that i don't like you?”
“it’s not that i think you don’t like me, or that you don’t enjoy my company to a certain degree…” and you trail off, looking up at him, eyes soft and gentle but a little nervous.
“i… just… sometimes, beyond our sexual chemistry… i never know what you’re thinking… you don’t say much, nor do you call, o-or tell me what you’re really thinking. and i know, it’s only been a few months, so i’ve kept most of this to myself in fear of… scaring you away with my own intensity…”
the longer you speak, the more the breath leaves your body, and the more his expression grows solemn in nature.
hearing the quiet insecurity in your own voice makes your chest ache in a way you can’t control, and you’re sure hiromi feels it too, with the way he shakes his head slowly, as if trying to clear it.
“...you can't be serious,” he murmurs. “...of course i like you. more than like you. i thought that was obvious.”
you’re still rendered unable to look him in his warm grey eyes.
“i know you like me, of course i do… but i don’t know…” and you trail off, the vegetables on your plate thoroughly covered in sauce and gravy now.
“i just… i’ve never stayed the night, nor have you offered… and i know, i know it’s immature of me when i could just ask, and you’d more than likely say yes, but…”
the words get stuck again, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.
“i don’t know. it’s stupid. i’m sorry.”
meanwhile, hiromi is stunned into momentary silence.
almost immediately, he reaches across the table, fingers closing gently around your wrist.
“no,” he breathes, eyes pleading. "it’s not stupid, not at all. look at me.”
you looks at his hand enclosed around your wrist, before meeting his earnest gaze, still waiting… quiet and expectant.
his grip tightens ever so slightly.
"you’re not stupid," he repeats, his voice even more gentle. “don’t apologise. i’m not upset, i just... i can't believe you've been feeling this way and i never knew. i was so worried about scaring you off, i’d never even thought to consider about how you'd view me during all of this.”
his thumb brushes over your pulse point, feeling your racing heart beneath his fingertips.
it’s your turn to look at him in disbelief.
“you’ve been worried about scaring me off?”
his free hand runs anxiously through his hair, frustration clear in his expression.
“of course i have,” he confesses. “you’ve no idea how much i’ve tried to keep myself in check — to keep myself from going too hard, saying too much, going too fast... i didn't want to scare you off or make you think i was clingy.”
his thumb continues to brush circles across your wrist, the motion so soothing, so subconscious, he doesn't even realize he's doing it, but it helps lower your guard nonetheless, as he has you huffing out a laugh now, way more relieved and very sheepish.
“i… i had no idea… now i feel silly for assuming the worst. i’m sorry.”
“don’t say that,” he murmurs, giving your wrist a light squeeze.
“i should have been more straightforward from the very beginning, i just... i didn't want to push you. i figured you'd want to take things slow. that you'd want space. i didn't want to...”
he scoffs, his voice growing thick. “...i didn't want to come on too strong too early on and end up losing you.”
you slide your wrist out of his hand to replace it with your palm instead.
the moment your hand slides into his— warm, steady, and oh so, sure —something inside him cracks open like a gently steamed egg. his breath hitches.
“i really like what we have, hiromi… and i’d like us to be serious. i want you to want me even if you think i’ll reject you… because nine times out of ten, i’m most definitely thinking the same thing as you.”
hiromi looks down at your joined hands, then back up at your face. the softness in your eyes undoes him completely.
“... i want that too," he agrees quietly. “more than anything.”
you nod, smiling at him. “okay, then. it’s settled.”
the both of you just stare at each other, his eyes that bore into yours wordlessly converse with your own weighted gaze, hopeful and filling in the gaps of what doesn’t need to be conveyed.
“so…” you finally voice, “what would you like to do after dessert?”
hiromi’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand this time, absentminded.
his adam’s apple bobs and settles before he clears his throat.
“i have somewhat of an idea," he says, voice low and sultry, “but it might make me a bit of a bastard to suggest it out loud.”
you shrug, your other hand sliding atop their already conjoined ones. “i guess i’ll be the judge of that.”
hiromi’s eyes flicker down to where your hands encompasses his, and he sniffles thickly.
“…how would you feel if i suggested i spend the night at your place?"
you smile, almost showing all of your teeth.
“i’d really, really like that…” but then your face falls in innocent confusion. “though, i fail to see how that would make you look like a bastard.”
his eyes darken at your guileless smile, and he manages to keep his voice steady as he says, “...well. there is one caveat."
you narrow your eyes curiously, lips pouty.
“oh? what is it?”
for a second, hiromi is completely distracted by the pout of your lip, but when you squeeze his hand, he recalibrates, coughing with no cough backed up.
“well,” he says as casually as can be, fingers still brushing softly across your knuckles. “i have one or two... expectations, i suppose you could call them, for the night. if you're amenable, that is.”
you nod, eyes wide, still a little confused and unsure but ready to accommodate to his very preferences.
“i’m all ears— oh,” and realisation washes all over your face. “are you insinuating what i think you’re insinuating?”
seeing you begin to catch on spreads a slow, predatory smile across his lips.
he takes his time before answering, dragging out his words like silk. “that depends. what do you think i’m insinuating?" he asks, head tilting to the side.
you bite your bottom lip, before smiling innocently, shrugging.
“hey, you’re supposed to be the bastard right now. it wouldn’t be ladylike of me to say.”
a low, rumbling laugh escapes him — dark and full of promise.
“then i’ll say it for you.”
he leans across the table just slightly, voice dropping to a velvet murmur.
“i want to stay the night. and not just sleep,” and he says your name even quieter after, “i want to have you, touch you everywhere, taste every inch of your skin.”
hiromi’s hand glosses over your knuckles again and then your palm — slowly and deliberately.
“and if you're lucky... maybe i’ll let you get some sleep afterwards.”
your eyes widen, and after a pregnant pause, you inhale deeply, nodding as you pull your hand out of his grasp, standing abruptly from the table.
hiromi blinks, taken aback by the sudden loss of your touch. the beginning twist of a frown takes over his once keen expression as he watches you stand, his tone confused when he says your name, eyebrows furling. “are you oka—”
“how about we skip dessert for now?” you interject, taking the dishes from the table.
a marauding, lopsided grin spreads across his face once again.
“oh,” he says, standing slowly from the table, dangerous when he walks toward you, closing the distance until he's just behind you against the sink. his hands rest lightly on your hips. “i like that idea.”
he noses at your neck. “i guess dessert will be served,” he murmurs against your ear, lips soft.
you snort, placing the dishes in the sink, as you look behind your shoulder and up at him. “so cheesy.”
“maybe,” he admits unashamedly, his voice a low rumble against your ear. he doesn't move his hands from your hips despite your slight movements around the kitchen jostling him around. he knows it’s impractical, but he can’t seem to let go of you knowing what is yet to occur.
“but you're still standing here. still letting me touch you.”
his lips brush the shell of your ear as he adds, barely above a whisper:
“...and later tonight, when i’ve got you gasping and begging and completely undone, you'll be calling me a lot of things.”
he grins unabashedly against your skin.
“cheesy won't be one of them.”
with an airy sigh, you lean back in his touch, eyes fluttering at his touch and words, before you flicker them open, clearing your throat as you move his hands away.
“at least let me clean up before you try to seduce me, ‘romi,” you retort, opening the dishwasher.
his grip tightens on you instinctively when he hears it, but he has to let go of you when you push his hands away, albeit reluctantly, stepping back to let you clean up.
“you’re no fun,” he complains in a teasing, exasperated voice. "you really are going to make me wait, aren't you?"
“i’m not leaving dirty dishes in the sink because you want to get your dick wet,” you say crudely, turning to face him with folded arms and a smirk on your face.
“besides, aren’t you always telling me that patience is a virtue?”
he laughs tightly, shaking his head at the vulgar words coming out of your mouth, he then closes the distance between you to cage you in against the counter.
“not when the patience has me aching for you,” he maintains, voice low and rough. “you’re making it hard to behave.”
you let your hands slide up his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his dress shirt, a teasing smile on your face.
“are you that insatiable, my dear hiromi?”
his breath stutters in his chest as he watches you toying with the buttons on his dress shirt.
his eyes are hooded, darkened by pure, aching want.
“you have no idea.”
his pelvis dips in, pinning you even further against the kitchen counter.
“it’s taking every ounce of self-control i have to keep from hauling you off to the bedroom this very second. you’re going to drive me absolutely insane.”
you gasp when you feel the very presence of his desire for you — thick and wanting against his slacks, and you slide your hand down to his belt loops, pulling him closer to press a kiss to his jaw.
“is there any way i could incentivise you to wait a little while, at least until my kitchen doesn’t look like such a mess?”
a low, ragged groan escapes him as he feels your kiss on his jaw, the sound coming deep from within his chest.
when you suggest that he wait, he bites the inside of his cheek, hard, and when he speaks, his voice comes out thick.
“define a while.”
“no more than ten minutes,” you insist, your arms going to wrap around his waist.
he has to swallow, closing his eyes to ground himself when you wrap your arms around him. your touch is soft, gentle on purpose, but you’re sure that it is pure torture to him right now — like the sweetest fire engulfing you in its steady flames.
he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, before he growls low in his throat. “ten minutes,” he affirms, eyes opening to meet yours.
“you have ten minutes and then I'm having you.”
you smile, kissing his cheek before letting go. “go wait in the bedroom… i’ll be right there.”
he lets out an almost pained-sounding laugh when you kiss his cheek.
hiromi nods only once. “i’ll be waiting,” he says, voice gruff, full of barely-kept-together restraint.
he leaves the kitchen, heading to your bedroom, his thoughts already a mess of fantasies and wanting.
at just around seven and a half minutes, you saunter into your bedroom, your heels clicking and clacking against the hard floor, and you knock teasingly, a sultry smile on your lips as you lean by the doorway.
hiromi stands by the window — deliberately composed — but the moment he hears your heels, his control slips.
the low click-clack-click of your steps sends a thrill straight down his spine. he turns slowly, and there you are: leaning in the doorway like some kind of vision sent to ruin him.
his jaw tightens.
“cutting it close,” he murmurs, voice rough with hunger as his eyes drag over every inch of you. “i was about to come looking for you.”
you roll your eyes, walking up to him and you wrap your arms around his neck.
“i’m two minutes early. what happened to the ever so patient man i know, hmm?”
his hands find your waist instantly, like a pair of magnets fighting against gravitational pull.
“that man,” he murmurs, leaning in until his lips are just a breath away from yours, “disappeared the second you kissed my jaw and let me know how badly you want me as i do you.”
a low hum vibrates in his chest as he finally closes the distance: not quite kissing you, but letting his lips ghost over yours with every word.
“you happened. you’re my kryptonite."
“that’s not good,” you pout, eyes flicking from his own to his lips.
“now there’s nothing stopping me from using my powers against you,” you tease, your lips one breath away from his.
a dark, thrilling laugh rumbles in his chest.
“oh, but you already have,” he whispers, lips brushing yours with every word. “every time you look at me like that… every time you touch me… i’m putty in your hands.”
his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you flush against him so there’s no space left between the both of you.
“but go ahead," he dares, voice low and rough. “use them.”
you roll your eyes. “like i said before… cheesy.”
you don’t let him retort, pulling him down by his loosened tie to kiss him deeply.
hiromi lets out a low, ragged sound the second your mouth touches his, like all the air leaving his lungs in a one swift rush.
he kisses you like a man starving, every kiss heavy and demanding, filled with a need that borders on desperation. he can't get close enough to you; he pulls you up hard against him, fingers slipping into your hair to hold you in place as he slides his tongue against yours.
your head spins, letting him overcrowd your very senses until your knees are buckling, until you're breathless and trembling in his hands.
you can’t help but whine haplessly into his mouth, your tongue gliding against his and you eventually pull apart, moving his hands off of you to hold him by the arm.
“take off your shoes.”
when you pull back, it takes him a moment to collect himself enough to hear your words.
he lets out a low, ragged laugh at your order, though he obeys immediately. his shoes get kicked off his feet and hit the floor with a thump and he looks at you, eyebrow raised.
“bossy,” he quips, his voice still rough. “you’re lucky i find it sexy.”
you kick off your own heels, tugging him by his arm till he’s at the edge of your expansive bed, and you push him down into the silky sheets and quilted pillows.
he lets himself be pushed back easily, his eyes darkened with desire as he looks up at you.
immediately, he reaches for you, wanting to haul you down on top of him.
“c'mere…" he murmurs, the words both an order and a plea.
you swat his hands away, but you comply anyway, climbing on top of him, your arms wrapping around his neck.
his breath hitches as you settle on top of him — warm, soft, perfect. “you’re killing me," he grunts against your lips, hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips.
he arches slightly beneath you, silently begging for more.
“do you have any idea what you do to me?
you shake your head, laving wet kisses against his jaw, neck and the corner of his mouth, avoiding his lips that edge towards you.
“no… but i’d really like for you to tell me.”
his fingers dig into your hips as you kiss every inch of skin except his mouth and lets out a low, ragged swear when you drag your lips over his jaw, leaving his skin on fire.
“i ache,” he confesses, voice cracking, “i ache to touch you, to taste you, to be inside you. you’re all i think about sometimes — all i want… you drive me crazy.”
a pleased grin takes over your swollen lips, and you place your hands flat by his head as you look down at him. “good answer.”
you finally decide to take him out of his misery, sliding your arms around his neck again and then slotting your mouth over his.
he groans against your mouth, the sound coming from deep within him, the last thread of his restraint snapping.
without warning, he flips you both over so you're beneath him, his hips pushing between your legs, pinning you down against the bed.
his lips crush yours in a crushing, searing kiss. he parts your lips with his tongue, invading your mouth like a man starving. he kisses all sense of reason from you, his hands gripping your hips almost painfully tight.
you squeak against his lips when he does, your hands holding his face as you lick into his mouth with just as much passion and enthusiasm.
your arm lifts slightly to rest against the back of his neck, eyes rolling back under their lids as you moan into him.
he feels your moan vibrate against his mouth, sending fire through his veins.
his hands slide under your dress — slow at first, then bolder — as they glide up the soft skin of your thighs. a low noise rumbles in his chest when he feels you trembling beneath his touch.
“let me feel all of you,” he pleads, voice ragged with need as he grinds down harder, the heat between you almost unbearable. “please.”
you break the kiss with a wet pop!, pushing him onto his back and into the pillows as you kneel up on the bed.
“since you asked so nicely,” you tease with swollen, shiny lips, your hand pushing a strap down from your shoulder.
his breath comes fast and uneven as he watches you move over him, rasping out your name with a voice thick with desire, hands twitching at his sides like he's fighting not to reach for you.
but when you slowly push the strap down, revealing just a hint of skin, his control frays at the seams.
hiromi surges up suddenly, fast and smooth, flipping you beneath him once again in one swift motion.
“let me," he sighs against your ear. “let me undress you."
you giggle, but it’s only full of desire. “you’re so impatient, today, hiro… but please, be my guest.”
when you give him permission, he doesn't hesitate. his hands fly towards to the zipper behind you, tugging it down agonisingly slowly, letting each inch of skin reveal itself like a gift he's unwrapping with reverence.
“so beautiful," he murmurs raggedly, eyes dark and hungry. “i’ve been aching to see you like this again for days.”
you bite your lip, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders loosely, the material around your breasts bunching up around you as hiromi pulls down the zip even further. his touch — even the most innocent touch — has your body on fire, your blood singing while every muscle in your body coils tight with aching.
“it hasn’t even been a full week since we last had sex,” you breathes, a little giggly and very infatuated with the man lying on top of you.
“every moment i’m not touching you is a moment too long, as far as I'm concerned,” he contends, leaning in to brush his lips feather-soft against your neck.
as the dress drops away from your top half, he drinks in the sight of you, like a man dying of thirst. “christ, you're gorgeous.”
you open your mouth to retort teasingly, but instead you just sigh when his lips touch your skin, the dress bunching and falling to sit around your waist, inadvertently revealing your bare breasts to him, and surprisingly, a silver bar in your left nipple.
hiromi’s eyes land on that small, shining piece of metal with a sharp intake of breath.
for a moment, all he does is stare, his heart hammering in his chest.
“you got a piercing,” he murmurs, voice coarse. “and you didn't tell me?
he can't help himself; he reaches, calloused fingers tracing lightly over the skin over the shiny metal. it’s like a jolt to his monkey brain receptors, seeing you like this. “when did you get this?”
you bite your lip, a soft groan leaving your throat.
“back during my rebellious university days… took it out once i grew my frontal lobe,” you tell, then your eyelashes flutter to where he thumbs around the hardened peak, “but i put it back in every now and then so it doesn’t close up… i never meant to not tell you, hiro.”
meanwhile, you can tell hiromi is so overwhelmed right now: by you, by the sight of you like this, and all he can do is take a slow, sharp inhale as his fingers runs over the jewelry.
“it’s...holy, it's sexy," he mutters, his eyes still fixed on your chest as his thumb and forefinger run feather-light over the cold titanium. “jesus, i don't think i’ve ever been more turned on by something in my entire life.”
you can only just let out a bubble of laughter, eyes hazy at how fascinated he is with a simple piercing on your body. it soon breaks off into a moan when his fingertip flicks against the skin.
“you sure know how to make a woman feel beautiful.”
“you are beautiful,” he murmurs quicky, voice thick with veneration, with you at the altar. “every inch of you.”
his lips find your neck again, soft, hot kisses trailing down to your collarbone. then lower.
when his mouth hovers just above the silver bar, he looks up at you through his lashes — dark eyes burning with hot desire.
“may i?” he asks, breath ghosting over the sensitive skin.
you keen at his words, the way he’s looking at you right now doing little to quell the flames in your lower belly.
a sharp whine leaves your throat before you can stop yourself, nodding. “of course, hiro.”
his whole body responds to the way you give him consent, shuddering while his groin drags a little against you. he has to take a moment to compose himself, though the moment lasts less than a few seconds because he then he lowers his head, mouth closing around the sensitive, metal-clad nipple. he sucks gently at first, his warm, soft tongue moving in slow, languid licks.
there’s something so oddly intimate about this, despite the obviousness of him almost having you. it can't be described with mere words — you just... feel completely taken with him, and you know he feels the exact same. it has you wanting to slap yourself for ever second guessing how he feels about you.
your eyes flutter shut, a hand weaving into his strands as he sucks the sensitive peak, a flurry of gentle whines and whimpers leaving your lips in succession.
the sound of your whimpers — soft and needy — has him sucking harder, teeth grazing. one hand press further onto your hips, wanting to keep you here like this for as long as possible, while the other slides up to your other less than decorated nipple, fingers pinching and pulling at the skin.
“that’s it, sweetheart," he whispers softly, lips trailing a path up your chest. “let me hear you.”
his hand moves then, tracing down the flat of your stomach, his fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of whatever's still left of your dress.
you hum, helping him pull down the rest of your dress as you shimmy, till you’re fully naked, save for your cotton panties, a cute navy blue with a growing damp spot in the middle of it.
“jesus...” he breathes, voice raw when he says your name as he takes in the sight of you — flushed, trembling, so wet for him already.
hiromi’s fingers trace the damp spot over your panties with agonizing slowness, watching your hips twitch beneath his touch.
“so responsive,” he murmurs. “so perfect.”
he leans down until his mouth hovers just above the fabric. “can i take these off?”
you nod incessantly, watching as his deft fingers curl into the waistband.
you’re a little breathless when you eventually speak while his hands drag down your thighs with your permission, pushing them together slowly. “just for the record, while i think the fact that you ask for my consent is really sexy… i always want you to touch me, hiro.”
his breathing stutters at your words, his fingers now back on the edge of your panties.
a low, ragged sound rumbles from the depth of his chest.
“oh, sweetheart,” he drawls, eyes dark and hazy with need. “i will never forget you said that.”
his fingers slide beneath the fabric, tugging softly. “lift your hips for me, baby.”
you comply obediently, lifting your hips and letting hiromi slide your underwear down your legs, a slight string of your wetness snapping and pooling against the cotton of the panties.
he watches every movement, entranced and breathless as the last scrap of fabric finally falls away, leaving you bare under his ravenous gaze and preying hands.
the glistening heat between your thighs steals his voice completely; all he can do is crawl back up your body, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thigh… then higher… until his breath fans over you, searing and eager.
“so pretty," he says to himself. “so wet.”
hiromi looks up at you one last time before he leans in:
“let me taste you.”
you bite your lip, eyelashes fluttering when you feel a puff of balmy air over your sensitive folds, your hole clenching over nothing, eyes lidded as you watch just how close he gets to where you want — no — need him.
“are you asking or are you telling?” you breathe out, voice sliced thick with unrepentant desire.
hiromi chuckles softly, eyes still fixed on your core as he edges closer.
“i’m telling,” he says, subdued in its tone. “i just want to make you feel good.”
his mouth is so close that it's almost like he's speaking against you. “can i, sweetheart? please," he mutters, eyes meeting yours in a way he knows you can't resist. “let me taste you.”
you whines at the way he speaks to you, it going straight to your already leaky core while your mind turns to mush even before he can even get his mouth on you. you end up just nodding dumbly.
“o-okay. yes, please.”
“good girl,” he responds, the words barely above a whisper, like a secret just for you and him.
and then his mouth is on you, hot and sure and devastating. he laps at you like he's been starving, slow at first to savor every drop, then deeper, hungrier. his tongue circles your clit with just the right pressure — one hand sliding under your lower back to hold you steady as his lips close around that sensitive nub.
“mmm,” he groans against you, on purpose but also not, feeling how your entire body jolts at the sensation.
you taste sweet and sharp all at once.
your mouth falls slack, your hand weaving into his thick dark strands as a saccharine moan flies out of your mouth.
“oh, hiro—” you sigh breathily, lidded eyes watching the way he devours at you, the way the curve of his nose digs into your puffy little clit, his groans sending little pulses of sharp pleasure through you, your essence flowing out of your tensing hole.
when he hears name on your lips like that, it nearly unravels him.
he growls against your slovenly cunt, drinking in the way you shudder and pulse under his mouth. the more you drip, the deeper he laps at you, chasing every drop. his tongue circles your clit again and again before he pulls back just enough to blow softly over your wet heat.
“so responsive,” he grunts heavily. “do you like it when i eat you out like this?”
he doesn't wait for an answer: he instead just dips two slender fingers inside you without warning, curling them just right as his mouth closes over your clit again with an intense suction.
you cry out, your fingers tugging on his hair a little tighter as he curves two fingers inside your wet cavern. a breathy “oh, fuck Hiro” climbs out of your chest, and you subconsciously raise your hips against him, body like a live wire when the curve of his angular nose digs into your clit in tandem with his soothing yet bullying tongue.
on the other hand, the way you tug on hiromi’s hair makes him shiver, the vibration travelling from his mouth to your body.
pulling his mouth away from your core ever so slowly, his fingers work even deeper, crooking just right as he looks up at you through thick, dark lashes. “say it again,” he demands, his breath fanning against your inner thigh. “my name. i want to hear it again.”
“hi-hiro,” you stutter, a heavy moan tearing out of your esophagus when his blunt fingers catch against that spongy spot inside of you, your back arching. “fuck, ‘m close… slow down… i’m gon’... ‘m gonna make a mess—!”
“yeah?” he double checks, fingers moving in fast, torturous circles.
“you want me to slow down, sweet thing?” he dips his head, kissing your inner thigh with a wet open mouth. “but i thought i was gonna make a mess of you. isn’t that what i promised, sweetheart?”
he sucks a mark into the skin — dark and blooming like the others, a quiet claim in the midst of your harvesting orgasm.
“you’re so close,” he groans in awe. “so pretty when you're about to come all over my fingers, sweetheart.”
you shake your head as if trying to will away the intensity of what’s to come, intaking a sharp breath as your stomach tenses, eyes rolling back, your mouth dropping in a silent scream as you cum all over Hiromi’s fingers and face, squirting clear liquid all over him.
you warble out his name in a sea of “oh fuck Hiro, right there, don’ stop, ‘m cumming, oh Hiro—” riding out your peak against his mouth, nose and fingers.
all the while, hiromi doesn't pull away. he can’t, not does he want to.
the moment you cry out his name, he groans low and deep, fingers still pumping deep inside you, curling them just right as your walls clamp down hard and arduous.
his lips stays locked around your clit — sucking gently, rhythmically — as you sob through your orgasm, and even as your body tenses and spasms into oversensitivity, he doesn’t stop.
he drinks your arousal like a man possessed, and his cock is painfully hard now, straining against his slacks as he grinds into the mattress below.
hiromi drags every last wave from you with slow thrusts of his fingers and soft flicks of his tongue until you’re whimpering, pushing weakly at his shoulders.
when your trembling begins to subside, he pulls back slowly: lips glistening and slick with your release. he looks up at you through hooded satisfied eyes, kissing your inner thigh gently.
you pant breathlessly, looking down at him for a second before collapsing despite already lying down, boneless. when you come to, you cover your face when you see the dampness on the sheets that still drips from your boyfriend’s face.
“please, please don’t tell me i squirted on you,” you say, muffled.
he smiles against the skin of your inner thigh, teeth grazing gently, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your blanched flesh as he watches you try to collect yourself.
“oh, sweet thing,” he coos at you, “is that what you're worried about? that you made a mess?”
he kisses right behind your knee as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, bringing them to his lips and humming in deep, vulgar satisfaction as he sucks each one clean. “i don't mind a little mess.”
you groan behind your hands, shaking your head.
“you don’t understand, hiromi… i’ve literally never done that before… i’m mortified.”
he chuckles quietly against your skin, his hands continuing to move across your body like he can’t keep them still after witnessing you fall from grace, like he just needs to be touching you.
“sweetheart, you have nothing to be embarrassed about, i promise,” he states, matter of fact.
hiromi reaches up to pull your hands away from your face, looking at you with eyes full of a tenderness that nearly burns your skin raw.
“look at me.”
you sigh, opening your bleary eyes to look down at him, letting him pull your hands away.
he looks into your eyes, his gaze locked and intense, still dark and hungry behind his usually warm and sated pupils.
“you don't have to be embarrassed," he repeats, his thumb stroking your thigh. "i liked it.”
his eyes drop to your lips and he wets his own, tongue darting out. “it made me feel so good to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he admits softly.
you can’t help but pout nonetheless. “…really?”
“baby,” he lets out, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your thigh. “i swear i loved it. i love feeling you lose control like that… knowing that i’m the one to make you—” he presses another kiss to your skin. “—feel—” kiss. “—so—”kiss. “—good.”
you sighs as he litters kisses all over your skin, chewing on your bottom lip to wane the noises that want to come pouring out. “hiro…”
the man in question lifts himself over you slowly, bracing on one arm as the other trails up your side. his lips hover just above yours.
“yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, a thick palm sliding up your soft belly, to grope at your breast, before tipping your chin upwards to him. “what do you want?”
you just… shake your head. “nothing… just want you.”
the simplicity of your words have him sighing.
“you have me," his gaze locking with yours as he grinds up his clothed core between your legs, his body settling against yours. he brushes up your cheek, thumb grazing your bottom lip. “all of me. you know that, right?”
you nod sweetly, tongue darting out to lave over his thumb. a cloying mhmm leaves your throat.
hiromi is entranced — absolutely spellbound by the sight of your tongue on his thumb and the little sound that leaves your throat in accompaniment.
“so greedy already," he tuts, sucking through his teeth as he presses his thumb gently against the wet muscle. “can’t keep your mouth off of me, even for a second, huh?”
the words are set to be teasing, and a little humiliating but all you do is shake your head, closing your eyes, sucking on his thumb with more force before blinking them back open, your eyes boring into his own, wide and wet.
the sight of you like this: lips parted, eyes wide, sucking gently on his thumb, has him pushing his thumb deeper between your lips.
“you’re going be the death of me, you know that?” he breathes. “so sweet. so pretty.”
you exhale faintly at his words, your teeth dancing around the digit, refusing to break eye contact for even a second.
hiromi lets out a slow, shaky rumble when your teeth skims his thumb. his eyes darken, jaw tightening as he watches you with barely restrained hunger.
“keep looking at me like that,” he grunts, sotto voce, "and i won't be able to go slow as i want.”
his hips shift forward instinctively, the clothed, hard length of him pressing against your thigh insistently.
“do you want me to fuck you now, sweetheart?”
your head bobs up and down wordlessly, your lips still pursed around his thumb that still slides against your tongue, eyelashes fluttering when you feel him hard against you despite the layers of all his clothes.
he groans at your silent answer, but it’s simply not enough.
hiromi pulls his thumb from your mouth slowly, pressing a quick, soft kiss to the corner of your lips. “you’re going to have to use your words for me, sweetheart,” he insists, “i want to hear you say it.”
much too pent up to retort or feel any shame about your desire for the man in front of you, you steadily oblige, a deep, warm suspiration of air leaving your chest.
“please fuck me, hiro.”
a guttural, ragged sound rips from his throat at the sound of his name coupled with your words, the wanting in your voice completely unravelling what's left of his control.
he kisses you roughly, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “since you said that so politely...”
you smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around him as he utters those words against you, your legs spreading to wrap around his hips.
hiromi kisses you even harder now, his tongue delving in deep, his fingers gripping your bare ass as he pulls you against him.
in haste, his hands begin fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to shed the fabric keeping him from you.
he pulls away, fixing you with darkened gaze as he undoes away his tie, flinging it over the edge of the bed before shrugging out of his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours. he’s impatient, almost hurried, like he needed to be inside you yesterday or else he might go insane.
the dark haired men looks like he's barely holding on as he pulls a gold foil wrapper from his trouser pocket, black swallowed pupils watching you tentatively now, waiting to see if you’ll say no to him in any way shape or form (and although he would appease to whatever you wanted at the time, he’s convinced he might actually break right now).
you’re the only thing holding his control together, and he needs to know he can touch you right now.
you lean back, watching with longing filled eyes as hiromi strips, till he’s just as bare as you are.
his body is all lean muscle and sharp lines as he spreads his legs, ripping open the foil packet to pull out the latex.
he looks at you again, and the way you're watching him like you want to devour him alive steals whatever teasing words that he had locked and loaded at that moment.
he says your name with a rasp, clear ing his throat. “are you sure?” while rolling the condom down his pulsing length slowly. “last chance to stop.”
even though they both know there's no going back: not when he's already kneeling between your thighs, and especially not when your legs are already parting for him without his hands intervening.
you blink slowly at him, akin to a sated cat, a saccharine lilt to the sigh that leaves you, giggling breathily.
“i know you mean well, babe, but asking me if i’m sure while you roll a condom over your really hard dick…” and you trail off with a raised brow, opening your arms as you settle further into the sheets.
“just come over here already.”
he hisses out a laugh at your words, before letting rip a deep, guttural groan as his gaze drops down to the shine between your thighs. he quickly obeys, crawling forward until he's sitting up on his haunches over you.
“so bossy, sweetheart,” he sighs, hands roaming over your legs, and simply put: he cannot get enough of you. “i like it.”
you can’t help but quirk up the corner of your lips, your arms wrapping around his back, hands pressed against the planes his shoulders, your legs spreading to wrap around him.
he inhales coarsely as you pull him closer, your legs locking around his waist like a vice now.
hiromi leans down, brushing a soft peck to your lips tenderly, before dragging it to your ear.
“ready?” he rustles, the tip of him nudging against your heat, already slick and welcoming.
you give him the okay with a dip of your head, eyes looking up at him wide eyed and full of anticipation. “ready.”
a slow, steady exhale leaves him as he lines up, observing the rise and fall of your tensing stomach and fluttering eyes, the hand resting between your bodies guiding him to you.
he doesn't look away even as the thick tip of him breaches past the first ring of muscle, to which the both of you moan synchronously.
hiromi takes one of your hands, threading your fingers with his.
it’s so intimate that’s it’s almost heart-stopping.
“you okay?" he asks, every part of him so aware of how vulnerable you look and are right now.
you utter out a delicate, “mhmm,” a docile noise following soon after when you feel the rest of his weighty cock push through your wet cavern.
he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his fingers binding around your hand.
“you feel so good," he gasps, his voice bumpy with barely tethered restraint.
he then stops for a moment, stilling to let you adjust, not wanting to hurt you.
“you okay, my love?” he whispers and asks again, scanning your face, to which your thumb brushes over the back of his hand that rests over your head.
“yeah… keep going… please.”
he leans down to smooch your forehead. “anything you want, sweetheart," he rumbles, his hips pressing forward slowly, sinking into you inch by inch until he's deep inside you, and you're both completely joined, and that feeling you’ve both never been able to shake finally makes sense.
harmonious groans leave your lips, your pussy stretching to accommodate his girth, and it’s still a struggle even though you’ve been thoroughly prepped.
looking down ever so slightly, your chest rises and falls heavily as you break eye contact to look at where your cunt is wrapped around his cock, folds swallowing up his length and sucking him in further.
the sight of you — glistening and perfect — has hiromi letting out an uncharacteristic moan, loud and brazen.
“jesus—” he hisses, your name coming out wobbly. it’s all too much, yet he can't even look away: but neither can you.
his hips twitch forward on instinct, not pulling out yet —just pressing deeper into you with a slow roll of his pelvis that makes your breath hitch and your thighs didder around him.
“feel that?" he croaks hoarsely. “all of me... for you.”
he leans down until his damp lips brush yours.
“look at me when I'm inside you," he pleads. “please.”
you tilt your head up, locking your lips with his wetly, eyes up at him. your nails dig softly into the scruff of his neck, and you lift a thigh to sit comfortably around his waist.
the way you look at him has him groaning, so he kisses you again, more thorough this time, pouring everything into it. his hips begin to move — slow at first, a gentle roll that draws a whimper from your throat.
“so sweet," he murmurs against your lips. “so damn sweet.”
hiromi’s hand slips between your bodies to touch where you’re joined, and then he’s stroking two fingers gently over your clit in small circles as his cock slides almost bottomless inside you again.
“feel good?”
you choke on a gasp, your hand flying down to hold his wrist, keeping it there as you nod.
“feels so good,” you whine. “more, hiro.”
he growls low in his throat at the sound of those words, his gaze locking onto your eyes.
“more?” he asks, breath hot on your lips. “say please, sweetheart.”
“please,” you whimper obediently and instantaneous, too wound up to retort with any sarcastic witticisms.
he rewards you with a slow, penetrating thrust, just enough to make your back arch and your breath catch, before pulling almost all the way out.
“like that?” he soughs, “or do you want it harder?”
he doesn't wait for a response this time.
with a sharp snap of his hips, he drives into you - deep and sudden - and it has you clenching down on him with every push and pull.
you squeal in ecstasy, each drag of his veiny, thick cock against your sensitive walls sending you reeling. you swear you can feel the beat of his heart inside of you as his length fucks into you, fast, wet and noisy.
one of your legs start to slip from his waist from the sheer force of his thrusts, and without breaking his rhythm, he catches it firmly to drape it over his shoulder.
“there you go, pretty thing,” he chuckles affectionately. “let me take care of you.”
the new angle makes you gasp as he sinks even deeper - each stroke hitting that sweet spot like he was made to fit right here.
he leans in close, brushing a kiss to the inside of your knee, and then up to your thigh.
hiromi’s hands finds yours again, fingers lacing tight and over your head.
your eyes practically roll back into your skull, and there’s nowhere to hide as hiromi forces your arms over your head, masking the desire of wanting to see your face wound up in pleasure with an act of romanticism.
“you’re doing so good for me,” he groans. “so perfect.”
in any other situation, you would make fun of him, teasing him for being such a romantic, but this new position has you speechless, practically sobbing as you feel the head of his cock press so much deeper, heeding the ceiling of your cervix. your eyes begin to water with pleasure, and your fingers tighten around his own, your nails digging into his knuckles.
every whimper and desperate noise that falls from your lips is symphonic, and hiromi cannot get enough.
he needs you closer.
he lets go of your hands to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you up - so you're sitting in his lap, your arms snaking around his neck on instinct, your faces so close, every shaky breath washing over the other's skin.
“there you go.”
he starts to thrust up into you with a renewed fervour, like he was born to do this - to love you like this. each snap of his hips draws a gasping sob from your throat, and he feeds on it. “that’s it… take all of me.”
you cry into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck tighter as you pull him closer, mouth sloppily slotting over his, all teeth and saliva and tongue — hardly even a kiss at this point, but you’re desperate, wanting to be as close to him as possible.
this new position has him bouncing you up and down his cock, hips thrusting at a pace that starts to get sloppy, and you can tell what that means.
“you close? i…’m close,” you moan, eyes hazy.
hiromi breaks the kiss with a gasp, forehead dropping to yours, his breath coming in ragged bursts.
“so close,” he groans, voice broken. “you’re killing me, sweetheart — so tight, so wet, fuck.”
his thrusts grow deeper, more uneven; he can't hold back anymore, so one hand slides between your bodies again to rub tight circles over your swollen clit.
“come for me," he grunts against your lips. “please,” and your name comes out half a syllable or two. “…let go.”
he’s barely moving inside you now, with hiromi dragging his cock back nice and slow against that spot deep inside that makes your vision blur with white-hot pleasure.
you grunt a little animalistically when his thumb returns to your overworked love button, your thighs seizing on either side of hiromi, your nails digging into his back, sure to leave red, stinging welts.
“oh god, hiro—” you sob, tongue lolling out of your mouth. “fuck, ‘m—” and you gasp sharply, choking sweetly as you cum, eyes lulling back, vision turning white as you babble nothings that make sense to nobody, throwing your mouth over his to moan onto his tongue, all the while you creams all over his cock.
watching you hit your peak causes hiromi’s hips to stutter, then still deep inside you as the orgasm rips through him, violent and blinding.
“sh-shit—“ he chokes out against your mouth, your name following soon after as his body bows forward, pressing you into the mattress as he empties himself into the condom with a low, shuddering groan.
his breath comes in dilapidated bursts against your skin, sweat-slicked and trembling in your arms. he pants against your cheek, body still shaking, his hand stroking your hair in reverent tenderness.
“that... was incredible,” he gasps, voice still raspy from how badly he fought for breath. “i don’t think i’ve ever —fuck — come that hard.”
he presses his lips on your pout, but softly this time, his breath then hot on your neck as he nuzzles his face against it, leaving a kiss right behind your ear. “feeling okay, sweet thing?” he whispers. “i didn't hurt you, did i…? think i got a little too carried away at the end there.”
you shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he presses wet kisses onto your moist skin.
“no, fuck no,” you contend. “that was probably the best sex of my life.”
hiromi laughs at that, the sound low and affectionate.
“yeah?” he smirks, pressing another kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. “best you've ever had, huh?”
he lifts his head to look at you, a cocky little grin settling on his face.
“guess i did a pretty good job, then," he says, clearly pleased with himself.
you hum, and mirror a smile back at him, nosing his damp hair. “it was more than pretty good, hiro.”
he nuzzles into your post-sex affections, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, then another just below your ear.
“you’re gonna make me fall in love with you,” he jokes quietly.
then he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes full of warmth, yet dark.
“if i haven't already.”
you raise a brow at him, your lips curled up slightly. “i mean… isn’t that the goal?”
he chuckles smoothly, shaking his head with a smirk. “you’re going to get a big head at this rate, sweetheart,”he teases, wrapping you further into his arms .
“can’t help it when the sexy man in my bed thinks my pussy is that good it could make him fall in love,” you tease.
he groans, half-laughing, half-groaning at your words. “what a way with words, my love,” he mutters, pressing his face into your neck, as if to try and hide the way you make him feel.
it’s hapless anyhow, since he can't help the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, the affection so plain and simple even in the way he speaks to you.
“but to answer your previous question… yes," he murmurs earnestly, lips still brushing over your skin like a painter and his most prized canvas. “i hope so.”
there’s a pregnant pause before you hum. “… i hope so too.”
however, he lifts his head after, eyes locking with yours - serious now.
“for the record," he says softly, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "It's not just your…pussy, or how you’d put it—” to which you laugh, and to which he kisses you to shut you up.
“…it’s you.”
you break out into a fit of light giggles anyway, holding his face to kiss all over his sharp and curved angles: from his nose to his cheekbones.
“and, for the record,” you mock teasingly, “it’s not just your gorgeous nose or big di—”
hiromi presses a hand over your mouth before you can finish that sentence, face reddening. “you can't say that,” he protests weakly.
“god, you’re shameless, woman," he grumbles, shaking his head at you.
you snort into his hand, all the while you ever so accidentally clench around hiromi’s softening penis that’s still inside of you.
you wiggle your brows up at him, amused when he jerks at the sudden clench (half-limp, half-alive, it’s hard to tell) and lets out a strangled groan.
“you're evil,” he hisses, eyes squeezing shut as if to hold back the feeling. “absolute nightmare.”
but his pelvis still twitches forward on instinct — he truly can't help it — his cock stirring again inside you with a slow, traitorous throb.
he glares down at you through heavy lashes. "don’t do that again.” his voice cracks halfway through.
“you say that but i can feel you getting hard all over again, baby,” and you whisper the last part like it’s shameful.
you pullshim down by his neck to kiss against the husk of his ear. “what’s the consensus on a round two? i’m thinking that we take a little break before we resume activities.”
he shudders as your words almost drown him from the outright viscosity, his body already responding at the mere suggestion.
“a break... sounds good,” he mumbles against your skin, planting a kiss between your shoulder and neck once more. “i’ll go get something to clean up."
hiromi pulls back, slipping out of you, making you hiss at the removal, stretching your back with a groan as you then wander around the bedroom, throwing on an oversized hoodie and some panties.
when hiro returns from the bathroom, you grin at him, passing him some folded items. “here. i, uh, have some spare men’s clothes,” to which hiromi raises a brow and you gasp in exaggerated offence, shoving his shoulder playfully, “don’t give me that look—! i like the way men’s stuff fits sometimes…” and you drop the articles into his hand. “consider this impromptu sleepover the prequel to so many better, more prepared ones in our future.”
hiromi watches you, dazed and perhaps still a little drunk on you, but he manages to laugh at the defensive grin on your face. he takes the clothes, unfolding them and glancing between them and you.
“and you’re sure you want me to stay the night?" he asks, as if you won't actually want him to.
you can only roll your eyes, deadpanning.
“baby. i am 100% sure… i would’ve liked to have gotten this crossed off of our list sooner but…” you shrug with some diffidence. “next time it can be your place… if you want.”
he’s already tugging on the soft cotton shirt as you speak. “of course i want you at my place,” he says. “anytime. any night. every night, if we can.”
he cups your face gently, his thumb brushes over your cheek. “if that's what you want too.”
you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him down for multiple wet smooches. “of course it’s what i want, silly.”
he kisses you back at your pace: romantic and thorough, then teasing and humorously.
“good,” he murmurs against your lips. “really good.”
he envelops his arms around you, pulling you flush against him despite the layers now between your bodies.
your husband hiromi never misses an anniversary—until now.
tags: higuruma x reader, husband!hiromi, gn!reader, hurt/comfort (kinda?), married life shenanigans, based on this ask
hiromi stares at the date and time on his phone.
fuck.
it's your wedding anniversary. he only realized that two minutes ago, and it's already a few minutes past eleven at night. to make things worse, he's still at the firm, still buried in cases and documents that suddenly feel meaningless in his hands.
hiromi's gaze flicks back to the screen—to your message, still unread until earlier.
are you coming home early tonight?
and his reply—too quick, too thoughtless:
still busy.
that's what he sent you. that's what you'll be reading alone.
you already bore with too much of his missed dinners, missed dates, missed breakfasts, but never a missed anniversary—not until now, at least.
shit.
hiromi exhales sharply through his nose, already standing, already gathering his things—movements efficient, practiced, automatic. but there's a tension in him now, something tighter than exhaustion, because this isn't just another late night.
it's this night.
his mind scrambles as he locks his office drawer.
flowers? everything's closed.
dinner? everything's closed.
a reservation? what a joke.
even the convenience store options feel insulting in his head.
still, he's moving. still trying, still late.
the elevator ride down feels too slow. every second stretches in a way that makes him more aware of how badly he's already failed the night.
by the time he steps into his car, his fingers are already dialing a florists he knows is open late for emergencies.
it rings—once, twice, then—
the tone flats. closed, of course.
he grips the steering wheel a little tighter.
“of course,” he grits out.
the drive home is quiet, but absolutely not peaceful. his thoughts don't let him settle into it. they keep circling back to one thing:
you were waiting, and probably still are.
you probably expected to see him beside you first thing in the morning. you probably expected flowers at your door by noon. maybe a call to a nice dinner out in the evening.
instead, you got a cold reply from him telling you he's still busy.
when he finally gets home, the house is dim. hiromi steps inside slowly, loosening his tie halfway out of habit before stopping entirely when he notices something: no warm greeting, no sound of footsteps, just... stillness.
then he sees you sitting on the couch. not asleep, but waiting, and that's somehow worse.
hiromi closes the door behind him more gently than usual.
“sweetheart,” he breathes out. “look, i'm s—”
“have you eaten?”
hiromi pauses at your interruption. he swallows down any excuses in his throat. “...i haven't,” he admits. “if you want, i can look for a res—”
“i already set aside dinner for you,” you cut in again. “i'll go to bed.”
he hastily rushes to your side. “sweetheart, thank you for dinner. have you eaten? maybe we can eat to—”
“i'm full.”
hiromi sucks in a breath. “...okay,” he whispers. “alright. come here.” he leans in to press a kiss against your cheek, but the way you tilt your head away even the slightest bit makes hims freeze.
“wow,” you chuckle humorlessly, “bold.”
“i'm sorry,” hiromi immediately says. “i remembered late. i know that's not—” he sighs, “—enough. i... got busy.”
that's when you look at him properly, and it makes him straighten up.
“i wasn't asking for the perfect night,” you say softly. “i just wanted you know you remembered it was ours.”
hiromi's jaw tightens slightly. “i did,” he says, quieter now. “just not when it mattered.”
“that's the thing, hiromi.”
he goes still at his name like that.
you continue despite it. “i keep being understanding. i keep moving things around so your life works.” you look away before adding, “and i think i stopped being something you have to make time for.”
hiromi's feet move on their own. by the next second, he's already crouched in front of you.
“tell me what you need,” he says quietly. “...please, sweetheart. i'll do anything, just... don't shut me out.”
the next morning, you wake up alone. you blink up at the ceiling, thoughts drifting off to last night. with a heavy chest, you drag yourself off to bed before heading out to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast.
just when you step out of the room, you freeze at the sound of dishes clinking. your eyes flicker to the wall clock nearby—it's already nine in the morning, hiromi should be out by now. when you reach the kitchen, you find him in there, setting the table.
hiromi glances up when he hears you.
“...good morning,” he greets.
he doesn't approach, doesn't reach out, doesn't initiate anything. instead, he gestures at the table and says, “i made breakfast.”
you don't argue, but you don't thank him either.
later that day, you're baffled to see him still at home. you're so used to him leaving early to the firm that the sight of him at his home office is unusual.
“...you're not going in?” you ask.
hiromi doesn't look up from the document in his hands.
“i called in,” he simply responds.
you blink. “you never do that.”
“i know.” hiromi sets the file down. “i wanted to be here.”
not for work, not because he had nothing to do, just... here. with you. still, you don't respond, but you don't tell him to leave, either.
the next day, hiromi's still trying. not loudly, just consistently. he offers you snacks he knows you like while you review your own paperwork. he keeps the house quieter than usual, doesn't bring cases home this time. he, without a fail, checks on you without hovering too much.
still, the distance is obvious. you talk, but it's surface-level. you respond, but you don't soften.
and it's starting to get to him.
it happens in the evening. you're folding laundry without a word, the tv showing some soap opera from years ago. hiromi's been watching you for a while now—quiet, hesitant, like he's been building up to something.
“are you still upset with me?” he asks.
you don't look up. “you know i am.”
“i do.” a pause. “...i just don't know if it's getting any better.”
that makes your hand still. you finally look at him, and you finally see how tired your husband looks. not from work, from this. from not knowing where he stands with you.
“i don't know how to do this part,” he admits quietly.
that's new. hiromi higuruma always knows what to do. but somehow, not this.
“i can argue cases,” he continues, voice low. “i can fix problems when i understand them.” he steps closer. “but i don't know how to fix hurting you like this.”
hiromi crouches in front of you again. slowly, he lowers his head until his forehead rests on your thighs.
“i'm trying,” he weakly says. “sweetheart, i've been trying since that night.”
he presses himself closer to the warmth of your skin.
“i just don't know if you can see it.”
your chest tightens slightly. your hands fist the shirt you're holding just to stop yourself from forgiving him too quickly and pulling him up for an embrace. you were hurt, too.
“sweetheart,” hiromi murmurs, almost in a whimper, “you're staying too far away from me.”
your breath hitches. you hate that tone—not because it annoys you, but because it gets to you. every. time. still, you don't move.
hiromi almost whines from your lack of reaction. the famous atty. higuruma, feared and revered all the same, reduced to this mess. he can't complain—he brought it upon himself.
“...sweetheart,” he murmurs hoarsely. “please talk to me.”
“what do you want me to say, hiromi?” you ask quietly. that makes him freeze. there's no anger in your voice, just pure exhaustion, and that scares him.
hiromi swallows. “anything,” he admits. “just... anything that isn't silence.” his hand shifts slightly against your leg, like he's grounding himself there.
your hand tightens around the fabric in your hands. “i'm trying not to give in too easily,” you admit weakly. “to you, to this. because if i do, then it feels like what happened didn't matter as much as it did.”
“it mattered,” he says immediately. “it still does. sweetheart, please. i'm sorry.”
for a moment, there is silence again. his shoulders droop a little. then, slowly, you shift. your hand moves, hesitant at first, before resting lightly against the back of his head. your fingers thread through his hair as he keeps his face buried on your thighs.
“you're making this hard,” you murmur.
he lets out a quiet, almost breathless sound, a poor attempt at a chuckle.
“i know,” he whispers. “i'm sorry.”
your thumb brushes faintly against the crown of his head.
“i waited for you,” you say, voice soft. “i kept checking the time, telling myself you'd walk in any second.” your voice dips. “i even reheated dinner twice.”
that breaks him. you see it in the was his shoulders drop completely this time, in the way his hand presses more firmly against your leg like he needed something to hold on to.
“i'm sorry,” hiromi says again, but it's different now. quieter, heavier. “i'm so sorry.” his hands lift from your legs before gently resting at your waist.
“can i try again?” he asks softly. “not the day. i know i can't redo that.” he moves his face from your thighs to your stomach, still kneeling on the floor. “can i try again with you?”
your heart stutters. if there's one thing you know hiromi doesn't like, it's quick fixes. you just know he's being genuine. still, you two have a long way to go.
you study him for a second second longer before humming, “you already are.”
a/n: ermm didn't know what to do with the ending, so i made it (kinda) open... i love writing begging hiromi it just fits him so well
Your back's pressed against Nanami's chest, his thighs bracketing yours to keep your legs spread wide. Your panties and your shirt the only thing giving you some dignity, but still leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable .
Somehow your dinner conversation shifted to this after you’d told Nanami that you’d never came before—you weren’t a virgin—but you still had no clue as to how it really was supposed to feel. Even when you tried yourself it just… didn’t make sense?
You’d been dating for a few weeks now, and to be honest, with his work you guys never really had the time to discuss any of this, or even act on it. But when you finally opened up to him about previous disappointing experiences out of the blue he truly took it to heart.
"Comfortable?" His voice was quiet against your ear, one hand resting on your hip while the other traced slow patterns on your inner thigh.
"I'm fine," you breathed, though your pulse hammered in your throat at how lewd this whole situation all seemed.
"Good." His hand continued its path upward. "Now close those pretty eyes and let me do the work."
His fingers dragged up your thigh with feather touches, each movement in means the get your skin to tingle. He brushed your panties further to the side with his thumb one he reached your already dripping core, exposing you completely to the cool air of the ceiling fan, goosebumps raising on your skin before his fingers traced through your folds.
"Were you looking forward to this?" he comments with a faint laugh. He dragged his fingers through your slickness again, you gasped at the sensation, his rough fingers surprisingly soft against your soft flesh, coating them thoroughly. "Should’ve told me about this sooner."
He found your clit, circling it with pressure that made your breath catch, not too hard yet not too soft, just enough to make you your heart flutter with satisfaction. Your hips grind on forward, only making him press his thighs harder against yours, keeping your legs apart and hips locked on down.
"Shh baby doll," he cooed in your ear, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Stay still for me yeah?"
You could only whimper in response as he continued those maddening circles. The wet sounds of his fingers working you filled the room accompanied by your desperate soft moans and whines, heat crawled up your neck at how obscene it all sounded. Your hands gripped his forearms as you turned your face away, trying to bury your tiny sounds in the fabric of his clothes somehow, nails digging in slightly.
"Don’t," he hummed against your neck. His other hand slid up under your shirt to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. "You sound amazing." He punctuated his words with a firmer circle on your clit that made you gasp. You let out a higher pitched mewl, back arching towards his touch. "That's it baby doll."
Your thighs tried to close instinctively at the building pleasure, but his legs held firm "Keep them open," he flexed his clothed thighs to hold yours in place. "You're doing so good for me."
"Nanami—" you started, squirming against him, your skin flushed dark under your boyfriend’s touch.
His fingers continued their work on your clit, occasionally dipping lower to gather more of your arousal. You were getting wetter by the second, so much you could feel it dripping down, soaking the sheets beneath you. You pushed back against him, feeling the hard length of him pressed against your lower back, equally as aroused as you were.
"Feels good doesn’t it?" his voice had dropped lower, rumbling against your back through his chest. He dragged his fingers through your folds, the glide completely effortless now. "No friction at all." You could feel his small smile against your neck.
He pulled away for a second, bringing in index and middle finger up so you could see yourself. They were drenched, glistening with your arousal, strings of it connecting his fingers when he spread them apart.
"Look," he said quietly, his breath warm against your ear. "Making such a pretty mess." He rolled your hardened nipple between the rough pads of his fingers. "I might get addicted to this."
He brought his fingers back down, this time slowly pushing his middle and ring finger inside, feeling your mushy walls with light strokes, his pinky and index resting on the plush skin of your ass as the other two dug in. Your entrance throbbed around him, clenching involuntarily at the intrusion, he himself made a quiet sound of approval against your neck, his length twitch against your back just from feeling you.
"N-Nanami..," you whispered, jaw hanging open. "I — more, please—"
"Asking so nicely," he cooed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He began pumping his finger in and out, letting you feel every inch, every drag of his knuckle against your walls, each thrust made you flutter around him. His thumb found your clit again, resuming those maddening slow circles, you felt the bundle of nerves beginning to swell under his constant attention. "You're doing so good love, does that feel good?"
"Yes," you gasped, one hand reaching back to tangle in his hair. "God, yes."
The sounds grew louder—wet, rhythmic, the slick glide of his finger pumping into you. His breathing grew heavier in your ear, more labored despite how in control he seemed.
"Fuck, just listen to you," he hummed, making your heart flutter at the sudden profanity, ooh were you getting him worked up.
"There you go," He scissored his fingers inside you, working you open as you felt yourself gush around them. Your walls fluttered rhythmically around his fingers as he moved, his heavy breathing ghosting your flushed skin constantly.
Your thighs trembled, trying to close again at the overwhelming—but godly— sensation, but his legs were quicker and held you firmly in place, spread wide and vulnerable. You ground back against him in protest, feeling the twitch of his length against your back.
"Stay open," he reminded you, his thumb pressed harder on your clit, making the bundle of nerves swell further under the relentless attention. Then his fingers curled without warning, a flash of white spreading behind your eyes at the new and welcomed sensation as a high pitched moan excaped you. "Tell me if it’s too much."
He curled his fingers again, hitting that spot inside that made your toes curl, made your back arch against him. His thumb kept circled your clit—the bud completely swelled up from arousal, the sensitivity was almost unbearable.
"Right there," he nearly moaned, satisfaction seeping through his strained voice. The hand that had been toying with your nipple left it’s spot to slide down your stomach, pressing down near your pelvis to keep you still. "I can’t wait to feel you around me." He whispered through the soft trail of kisses he left on your skin.
Your grip tightening in his hair as he stroked over that perfect spot again and again, his thumb working your clit in relentless circles. The combination became overwhelming—his fingers pumping into you, curling to hit that perfect spot, his thumb on your increasingly sensitive clit. His breathing was harsh in your ear now, punctuated by quiet groans he couldn't quite suppress himself. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his thighs flexed harder against yours.
"Does it feel tight here?" he pressed down on your pelvis where his hand held you, his voice softening. You could only nod, chasing that new feeling you were so desperate to reach.
His thighs pressed harder against yours, keeping you spread impossibly wide as your body tensed. His rhythm never faltered, nor did it speed up, keeping that same pace he’d been using on you for the last few minutes, making your climax come to you as softly as possible.
Then your whole body seized, your walls clenching rhythmically around his heavy fingers as that tightness in your gut finally broke. Your eyes were screwed shut, stars still dancing behind your eyelids accompanied by a sudden lightheadedness, a strangled mewl leaving your lips. You were making a mess of the bed *and* his fingers, but he didn’t seem to mind, a soft kiss finding its way to your cheek.
"That's it," he breathed, working you through it. "Just like that, good girl."
You went limp against him as the sensation faded, trembling with small aftershocks still pulsing through you at the last strokes on your spent bud. You were almost made that you’d never came before, never have felt this.
He slowly withdrew his fingers, they were completely soaked, your arousal coating them obscenely, dripping down his palm.
"Look at what you did," He let out a breathy laugh as he looked down at your exhausted form, your eyes meeting his for a second. The sight of you like this, eyes heavy, lips swollen from at that biting, and properly flushed made the fabric around him feel incredibly painful. He brought his coated fingers towards you, pressing down gently against your lower lip. "I’ll let you get a taste before I do."
You were taken aback, yet you found yourself parting your lips without thinking. He slid his fingers inside, his mouth slightly agap as well as he watched them slide in, letting you taste your own arousal—and somehow this still felt intimate, hot in ways you’d never thought of. His fingers moved slowly against your tongue, and you heard him groan softly above you.
"That’s it baby doll," he whispered, withdrawing his fingers slowly, that same hand now cupping your chin so you properly looked up at him, his thighs still keeping yours spread, still holding you open.
"Mind to share?" a small smile ghosted on his lips, a complete contrast from the scene.
Your heart stuttered as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was somehow both sweet and demanding. His tongue swept across your lower lip before slipping inside, tasting your own arousal on your tongue. The groan that rumbled from his chest vibrated against your back, his hand still cradling your jaw softly. When he finally pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, eyes dark and completely yearning for more.
"Sweet," he whispered against your lips, thumb brushing your flushed cheek. “strong enough for another one?”
my first time writing a nanami short, another pokemon added to the collection ✨
kento’s large hands are gentle but firm, folding your thighs up and back until your knees kiss your chest, opening you completely to his tired, hungry gaze. he exhales a long, shaky breath against your soaked folds, warm and reverent, like he’s finally come home.
he’s still in his work clothes—tie loose, top buttons popped, sleeves rolled to the elbows. the faint smell of his day clings to him: crisp paper, ink, train metal, and that quiet cologne you love. it only makes you ache more.
“there’s my sweet girl,” he murmurs, voice gravelly and soft all at once. “been thinking about this pretty thing all day.”
before you can whimper out a reply, his lips brush the most sensitive part of you—once, twice, feather-light—then press a slow, syrupy kiss right over your swollen clit. just one long, lingering smooch!
you squeak.
he smiles against you, small and terribly fond, then does it again. and again. little loving pecks, each one wetter than the last, each one dragging a pathetic little sound out of your throat. his tongue doesn’t even come out yet, plush lips mouthing at you like you’re something delicate and delicious he’s allowed to savor.
“mmm… so needy for me already,” he coos between kisses, the vibration making your hips twitch. “look at how she flutters when i kiss her… hi, pretty thing… hi, baby…”
another kiss. deeper this time. lips parting just enough to suckle the tender bud gently, then release with a sticky little sound. your hips can’t help but twitch toward him.
“sooo cute when you try to push up into my mouth. have some patience, honey,” he whispers, kissing the hood of your clit again, then lower, then lower still, until he’s kissing right along your dripping entrance, where you’re clenching and fluttering around nothing. soft, wet, adoring kisses, trying to learn every tiny shiver by heart with his mouth. his tongue slips out just enough to trace slow, soothing circles around the rim, petting lovingly.
the smooth, wet muscle glides up your puffy folds in a long, luxurious lick to press another chaste peck to your clit that has you whimpering.
“k-kento—please—”
“hush, let me say hello properly first.” his voice is all honey and exhaustion and adoration. he nuzzles the whole messy, dripping center of you, nose bumping your clit while he scatters more kisses along your folds, slow and noisy and shameless. “missed you so much, honey… missed this sweet cunt… let me love on her a little longer, okay? she’s been so patient… my pretty, needy girl deserves every single kiss.”
he seals his mouth over you then in another lingering kiss that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll. you feel him smile again when you sob his name.
one more big, syrupy smooch right at the center, lips smacking softly, and then he goes right back to lapping and sucking to make all your thoughts melt away.
art credits: @//hunnismokah . divider credits: @//pixopix .
synopsis: you know your boyfriend sukuna’s life relies on parties, alcohol, everything brimming with chaos and something akin to regret—you knew this and you stayed, hoping he’d change, hoping he’d actually see you for once. but when one argument spirals out of your hands, you’re storming out of his place vowing to never come back. this is the first time sukuna realised he’s fucked up. badly. you were the one girl that didn’t taste of cheap vodka and regret the morning after. so he now has a choice. to fix the very thing he promised he’d never break, or to keep his act up until it kills him. but would it kill him to admit that you meant something to him after all?
a/n: shoutout to my baby @twinkletfout for helping me plan this one out i lav u my precious, also this isn’t proofread so be nice
cw: slight angst to comfort, sukuna is an ass and reader is a little bit of a pushover !!
wc: 5k.
—
you’ve lost count of how many times sukuna’s forgotten to come home to you. lost count on how many times he’s promised you the world only to throw every single one of them to the fucking dirt. and quite frankly, you don’t know how you got here. you told yourself he was good, that he used to be, you told your friends that he cared—and you didn’t know who you were trying to convince, them or just yourself.
but a part of it was true. well it was once. that sukuna ryomen had left behind his chaos-filled, party life behind for you. he grew soft, restrained, the worst part was that he grew to care. and he convinced himself couldn’t have that—that vulnerability, his walls seemed to crack and it sent him in a frenzy to build them back up.
—
he was everything you weren't. and to most people, your relationship was something that was straight out of a fever dream.
the absolute angel of a girl with a man who couldn't hold his ground even if he tried.
but he wasn't like that around you. well, sometimes. he'd open his heart the slightest amount and withdraw almost instantly. but you knew that he was trying, that he would change.
but sukuna didn't want any of that. the second he felt the smallest kindness, his brain was quick to shut it down and want to wreck it before it got too far.
—
when he first attempted to ‘court’ you he’d send you stupid flowers, show up with the snacks you always liked, always going out of his way to try to impress you. well in his own subtle way, but he always just tried.
he’d left behind such a big part of his life to keep you close, partying less, avoiding the alcohol because knew how much you hated it. he cared, he really did. but gods you were just so good. too good. and far too angelic, and kind, and everything that was just so out of his reach, it fucked him up.
and old habits die hard. and a small fucked up part of him wanted to see how far he could push you before you leave him too. how far he could pull the strings on your poor heart until you’d finally want to get rid of him. because of course someone as sweet as you, someone that charming would never be someone who was destined to stay by his side.
ryomen sukuna wrecked things, it was simply what he was good at. and no matter how hard he tried to be good to you, his old ways always found a new way to ruin what was the one good thing he had left in his life.
—
you sat on the couch for the umpteenth time this month, waiting for sukuna to get back home from another party that he swore he wouldn’t attend. you were supposed to go out tonight. and like a fool, you thought your boyfriend would follow through with his words this time. you’d sworn a million times that this’d be your last straw. it never was.
you’d grown painfully attached to him. he treated you like you were something precious, like you were someone who mattered, well he did. he really did.
right while your brain continued down the same painful spiral, sukuna came stumbling into your place. he reeked of alcohol, and gods you hated that smell. and fuck you hated it when he was drunk. he was loud, abrasive, and everything that you absolutely had hated about him boiling until saturation.
you try to approach him slowly, reaching your arms out, trying to comfort him the only way you always did—
“get the fuck away from me, y/n.”
you immediately withdrew into yourself. he’d been making more comments about you lately, but sukuna never, never fucking talked to you like that before.
“ryomen, what’re you talking about—“
“fuck, y/n, you really are pathetic. you let me treat you like shit, you let me walk all over you and you’re still here. you still refuse to accept the fact that you should just leave with the last shred of self respect you have left.”
you could feel the tears slowly bubbling up behind your eyes. sukuna knew exactly what you were like, and the worst part was he knew exactly why you were the way you were. you couldn’t stand the idea of someone disliking you, you were always painfully understanding, always willing to go through hell and back for anyone who meant absolutely anything to you.
he used to praise you for being sweet, used to whisper sweet nothings into your ears about how he’d be the storm to your calm, how he’d make sure people wouldn’t just use you and throw you away like they always did.
it was always okay or so you told yourself. but the one thing you thought sukuna wouldn’t do was treat you the exact same way that everyone else did. fucking with your poor sweet heart until you had nothing else left to give.
“grow a spine, y/n. it’s getting a little sad to watch, baby.”
the sweet nickname sounded like venom on his tongue, not the way he used to say it before. the tears burning in your eyes eventually spilling down your cheeks. you hated it. you hated how easy it was to get inside your head. how easy you cried at the first sign of distress.
but for once, beyond the stupid thumping in your chest and the pit in your stomach, you felt something akin to rage. and for the first time, instead of enveloping sukuna in your arms, you felt your feet move, walking directly toward him, while a sharp smack! landed across his face.
you were almost just as stunned as he was, his cheek burning read with the imprint of your palm right across his face.
and just before you felt your throat close up—
“i’m done playing your stupid game, sukuna. we’re done.”
your words were sharp, final. a tone you’d never heard yourself possess before. it felt almost freeing.
but the moment you looked up at his face you absolutely knew he wasn’t taking a single word coming out of your mouth seriously. and before you knew it, he let out a laugh. the fucking audacity.
you felt your legs move again, shoving the stuff you had kept in his apartment into the nearest bag you could find, sobbing between each movement, frantically moving everything into your bags before storming out of the building, slamming the door in his face.
—
and the second you left the apartment, absolutely fuming, a part of sukuna’s fucked out brain knew he’d finally fucked up. that building back his walls, turning himself into the very thing he promised he’d never be around you finally caught up to him.
he wanted to think you’d come crawling back. you always did. he wished he had an explanation for his behaviour. but you were just…too you. and he was sukuna. the second he felt his heart soften he had to remind himself that you deserved better, you deserved better than just a half assed attempt at a redemption. you deserved someone kind. and he was everything that you should’ve avoided. maybe, just maybe pushing you away would feel freeing. maybe it’d feel like the weight that was crawling up his throat would finally disappear. oh, poor sukuna. if only he knew, that trying would always mean so much more than vain perfection. and the fact that he was trying would’ve always been more than enough for you.
—
you knew he was too drunk out of his mind to even remember what’d taken place in there. so you figured you’d tell his friend, toji to tell sukuna to stay the fuck away from you.
you liked that about toji. he never got between people’s business unless necessary, and you knew he’d pass on the message without questioning you about anything.
you’d found your way into yuki’s apartment, crying into her arms the second you got there, sobbing nearly hysterically while she slowly pet your head until you cried until you tired yourself out.
constantly babbling about how you trusted him, while yuki slowly cooed, whispering about how none of it was your fault. and heavens she swore that sukuna would get a piece of her mind soon enough. but for now, all she cared about was making sure you wouldn’t self destruct—you loved sukuna beyond what words could convey. sukuna knew you in ways that terrified you, he knew you, inside out and every jab he took at you felt like pickets were being stabbed into your heart. it hurt so much. and you just wanted it all to go away.
—
sukuna woke up would what he could only describe to be the feeling of a hammer pounding against his head. his immediate instinct was to reach out to you, looking for you in the apartment slowly—until the realisation hit him like a freight train.
fucking hell. he’d meant to try to get you to leave, hoping his notorious reputation that came crawling back would send you away. that it’d push you away far enough that you’d hate him. that you’d think it was all his fault that this relationship of yours would never work out. he never should’ve let this get too far anyway.
now? you were going to blame yourself. you would spiral and destruct thinking this was all on you. running his arm down his face, groaning while he went down this rabbit hole, his hair still messy, his breath still heavy with the stench of cheap vodka.
just before his brain was wracking for the things he’d said last night—toji stormed straight into the room. and in all his life, sukuna swore that he’d never seen him angrier. because toji never had a temper. he was simply the guy who barely gave a fuck about anything. and with the way toji was looking at him, sukuna could tell he was fuming.
“what. the. fuck. did you just do sukuna?”
it was odd, you were his girlfriend, so why was toji this mad at him? and his yelling was ringing in his ears paired with his utterly horrendous hangover.
“i don’t know man i was drunk out of my mind-“
“fuck out of here with that bullshit sukuna. you’ve been trying to push her away for months. if you wanted to dump her you should’ve just outright done it. you know she deserves better than whatever you just pulled.”
okay. ouch. way to kick a man when he’s down. but sukuna knew he was right. he fucked up. and he was going to have to face the repercussions of having had finally snapped the sweetest girl on campus in half.
—
you woke up in a frenzy in yuki’s room, buried amongst fluffy blankets you were nearly drowning in them while yuki brought you some tea.
“you feelin’ okay sweetheart”
“gods yuki i owe you my life.”
you groan almost flopping face first onto her lap again.
“no, you owe me monetary compensation for dealing with that man.”
you snicker, it’s the first time you’d felt your heart feel light since forever. it felt..good, not having someone constantly weigh you down until you felt like you were walking around eggshells around them. you felt seen. and you sure as hell didn’t feel stupid for being a girl with a big heart like you always did.
—
toji by no means let sukuna down gently—he made sure to go on an insufferable rant about how perfect you were and if sukuna didn’t get his shit together, someone else would and sukuna would be left being the idiot who fumbled the girl who would’ve moved mountains for him.
sukuna wanted to think this was all a sick joke. he wanted to push you away, it was for your own good, after all!! so why was it that every single time he thought of your stupid face, it made his chest ache with a wound that he couldn’t quite fix?
—
you made a vow to yourself to not cave. you’ve cut sukuna far too much slack, and you’re never letting him have that power over you. never again.
a sick part of you wanted to see him beg. grovel at your feet to beg you to come back. and you wanted to see him half as desperate and needy as you were in the relationship. you wanted him miserable.
—
it’d been a week since you’d stopped talking to sukuna. his pride wouldn’t let him admit that it was killing him. watching you, the sunshine reincarnated practically thrive without him being around you.
he wanted to be happy for you, he really did but just looking at you made him realise how he practically sucked the soul out of you. and god it stung.
watching you from afar when he made a big deal about you coming back to him while you didn’t even look back. when he tried to pass by you in the hallways, you simply pretended that he wasn’t there, barely grazing past him while still avoiding him to an extent that wasn’t obvious.
and every little detail about you had him scrambling, mentally slapping himself across the face for never having noticed these things about you.
the way you bit your lip when you were nervous, the way you liked to hum when conversations grew quiet. you really were, at your core, nothing short of lovely. and sukuna of all people wouldn’t be able to break that.
but to get the girl who wouldn’t hurt a fly to slap you across the face and avoid like the plague? now that was something worth mulling over. but deep down, he was proud of you. you were going to give him a run for his money and it was going to be worth every miserable second of his godforsaken life.
—
the one instance that has sukuna nearly snapping is when he spots you at a house party. the place is filled to the brim with people, his entire group of friends all off in their own corners, and as the sea of people part he’s immediately struck with the sight of you—all dolled up in the prettiest dress, your hair done to perfection, your makeup countering the dress perfectly, your jewellery sparkling under the dim lights.
you don’t do parties, they’ve never been your scene, but here you are, right before him, clinging onto to yuki’s arm while you make your way through the crowds of people.
the moment you find yourself a seat near the bar, you’re absolutely overwhelmed, sukuna’s mates crowding around you, and with the way they seem to be eyeing you? sukuna’s all but fighting the urge to drag you away.
before he makes the ridiculous decision of approaching you to drag you away, he feels toji snake an arm around his shoulder, physically holding him in place.
“you’re the one who fucked up, man. either get it together or leave her alone, she deserves this.”
gods, you really did look stunning. and every little compliment that was thrown your way had you flushed and giggling. he had no right to take that away from you. not after the shit he pulled. he wasn’t your boyfriend anymore. it wasn’t his place. and this was the first time he actually said that to himself.
oddly enough, being anything but your boyfriend just felt so very wrong in his brain.
he either gets his act together or comes to terms with being okay with never having you in his life ever again.
—
stumbling through the hallways of the campus’ dorms, he made his way to what he thought was his room. it was a force of habit. showing up to your place when he felt like shit. you always had space for him, but he was so out of it he almost didn’t realise you didn’t want anything to do with him. well, that’s a lie. he did.
he knew alcohol made him painfully honest. it’d let him say the things you couldn’t pry out of him no matter what if he was sober.
you shouldn’t have opened the door, but a part of you really, really wanted to hear what he had to say for himself.
the second you open your door, he’s leaning on the doorframe, looking at you with half lidded eyes while he slowly makes his way inside.
“wow i didnt think that you—“
“out with it before i kick you out.”
“you’re mean, y’know?”
he grumbles, a smile gracing his lips while he just gawked at you. gosh you really never did stop being pretty. he never told you that enough, now did he?
“ill cut to the chase, y/n. i want you back.”
there was a strange undercutting edge to his voice, one that almost sounded like begging.
“and what gives you that right, huh? no, tell me sukuna, should i take you back?”
you shot back almost immediately, if he was gonna try to pull this shit on you, you sure as hell would make him work for it.
“y’know what, no. no you shouldn’t.” his voice did not waver whatsoever, right while you were still caught off guard he managed to continue,
“i hate myself for what i did to you. and i don’t know how to hold onto things without wanting to ruin them because i’m just unworthy of it all. i want to change, y/n. i really do. but if it were up to me, you should’ve slammed that door across my face and never let me back into your life because i don’t deserve even an ounce of your attention. but i want to try, i really do.”
the raw honesty in his voice, the way it shook in the slightest had you reeling. of all things you didn’t expect him to actually..admit it.
“well—at least you’re aware.”
“trust me, i am. but please, y/n, let me make it up to you.” you barely registered the way he stumbled to his knees right before you, his eyes glazed over with a thin film of tears, like one wrong move would send him weeping.
he was looking right up at you, sniffling a little, before you walked closer, sukuna immediately hugging your legs toward himself, slowly letting out the tiniest sob, while your hands made their way into his hair.
“one chance, sukuna. and don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
you could practically see the excitement radiating off of him, his smile so stupid and boyish, you’d never seen him look like that in all the time that you’d known him.
but you weren’t going to go easy on him. you needed to make him feel at least a part of the pain you felt every single time he pushed you away.
“go home sukuna, you can talk to me when you’re sober and you mean what you say.”
and he was pouting. the sukuna ryomen was pouting, teary eyed, on his knees right before you. he got back up, now towering over you, still leaning over just to appear a little less intimidating.
“i meant what i said, y/n. i’ll prove it to you, i promise you that.”
—
sukuna stumbled back to his place, immediately losing himself to a fit of sleep, right before looking around the apartment and curling into himself, finally surrounded by silence. he hated being home now. you weren’t around. you kept his place alive, it was more yours than it was ever his. and with how he was never home anymore, the emptiness was going to swallow him whole.
but he'd do this. he didn't stumble into the dorms and beg and plead for nothing.
he never thought he'd see the day where toji was right about his relationship. he fucked around, hoping to ruin it all and that's exactly what he did.
but he just couldn't help the pit that settled in his stomach every single time he saw you get hit on—of course you did, you were fucking stunning. you were charming, beautiful, funny, albeit a little shy but that just added onto what made you so very special, just so very you. he had you, right in his arms and gloriously fucked it up.
—
he started small, sitting next to you during classes again, small talk, borrowing your notes, walking by your side in the hallways. he forgot how good it felt to get to know you all over again, but he could practically feel the walls you'd built up, refusing to let him in just yet. keeping him walking on ice with every interaction, giving him sidelong glances when he said anything even remotely stupid.
but it didn't matter. if you were to cut him off, so be it. he could live with that. but what he wouldn't be able to stand was having had forced his way back into your life and getting away with how he treated you scott-free.
even if it meant started from scratch, if it meant struggling to get you to look in his direction again it'd all be worth it. but to make this work, he'd need help.
—
"so you've finally decided to get your shit together, huh?" toji snickers, the sight of sukuna with his head in his hands on his couch is nearly comical, his eyeballs evident, his hair messy while he's practically begging for help.
"please, man i'll do anything."
"we should start with how badly you fucked up." toji says almost instantly, cutting his sentence short.
"man i know i messed up i just need to know how to win her over again-"
"you have no fucking idea, ryomen. of all the people you could fuck over, you picked the girl who's practically a living angel. she trusted you with her fragile heart and you somehow stomped all over it. if you want her back, we start with whatever is up with you." sukuna grimaces, he's right. again. fuck this was bad. he knew it was bad, but drowning his sorrows in alcohol and completely avoiding even a sliver of emotion he felt. trying to bury you out of every thought he had. he was just running away, and it was starting to catch up to him.
"yeah. yeah." he sighed, resigned to his fate of having screwed up absolutely terribly.
"but i'll give you props now for actually wanting to try. but if you're gonna do this, you'll have to do it right."
"real helpful, man."
"you know her better than i do, you know exactly what she likes. don't be all sukuna about it."
"yeah, yeah i got it." gods this was going to be hard.
—
he tried to approach you softly, he could see the way you always shrunk around him when you saw him coming and it killed him.
"y/n, you know i meant what i said, right?"
"i don't know that sukuna, but i know you're trying. that's okay, i'll take that."
ouch. it stung to hear you say it out loud, but it was fair. but he could do this, this was something he could work with.
he wasn't used to making up for everything he fucked up, more used to people shutting him, which was always what he intended, but having you look at him with not scrutiny again, but with something dangerously close to forgiveness. like you were ready to let him try to fix everything.
—
patience is a virtue. and sukuna swore he could feel himself start to turn into a saint. you let him hang out around you a lot more often—much to yuki's dismay. but she knew he was changing too, after laying it down on him rather harshly, giving him graphic detail on exactly the things she'd do to him provided he fucked up again.
"you screw this up sukuna, so help me god, i'm going to snap your dick in half and shove it down your throat." she whisper shouted, dragging him away from you in the hallway, cornering him underneath the stairs.
"god—i'm serious about her i swear! i promise you could run me over if i fuck it up again, you have my word for it."
she reluctantly lets go of his ear, the one she was holding onto while threatening him.
"you may leave, but you hurt her—"
"i got it you'd have me hung by my guts."
"good."
—
time moved almost excruciatingly slowly, with sukuna trying to sober up, and you trying to let your heart soften so you'd let him in it again. but god you were terrified. he always the rough edges while you were softer, calmer, and you didn't want that ever again.
sukuna could see the way your mind was absolutely reeling every single time he was around you and it pained him.
you'd started to let him in again, only to disappear momentarily, it was this dangerous game of contemplating whether you should really let him back into your life again.
you desperately didn't want to be the girl who just allowed him to come crawling back.
but he was changing. that was even worse. you didn't think you could stay tough any longer when all you wanted to do was collapse into his arms and cry about every horrible thing that he did to your poor heart.
—
it wasn't much longer until you caved, calling him in a frezy not letting him get even a word out before, gasping out—
"sukuna do you mean it."
"slow down, y/n. what's wrong?" in the weeks he'd been trying to make it up to you, you'd never called him, and you never sounded this panicked. before you found a response, he was throwing on the nearest hoodie he could find over his body, sprinting out of his apartment to get on his bike. you might not want to see him, sure, but he'd rather you kick him out than leave you like that by yourself.
"i don't kuna, i want you back. i do, but i don't know. i don't, i can't do this-"
"slow down, baby. i'm on my way there, you're okay, alright?"
you were seated on your floor right when sukuna showed up, your door already open while he ran toward you immediately, crouching down to your level, his warmth clouding you almost instantly while you melt into his arms.
"it's okay, baby. you're doing well."
you slowly nod into his shoulders, if you weren't panicking you'd be trying to shove him away, embarrassed that you caved this easily, back in his arms with your heart in pieces just like it was before.
"i won't fuck this up again, y/n. i really won't. it's gonna be, alright, okay? we're going to be just fine."
you were barely listening to him, while he proceeded to pick you up like you weighed nothing and carried you all the way back to your bed. gods, he missed this, he missed being close to you. and it only reminded me of how he was never this gentle, while that was all you ever deserved.
when he tried to move away, you pulled him by his drawstrings, until he was laying down completely on top of you.
"don't leave…please." your voice was barely above a whisper, still buried underneath his massive form.
"i don't plan on going anywhere. i just need to make sure you want me here, y/n."
"i do. just please-" before you could continue, his arms were around your waist, he flipped over, having you lay on top of him while he hugged you like it was second nature.
the moment you looked up at him with your pretty eyes, giving him the softest peck on his lips, his palm moved to cup your face,
"may i..?"
you slowly nodded, right before his lips crashed obto yours, they were softer than you remembered, and he was gentler, his arm still wrapped around your waist while the other found their way into your hair. he finally felt like he was breathing again.
he was gentler, a lot softer, his lips moving against yours, while he slowly pulled away, looking right at you.
"i'm going to do this right this time. i'll give you everything y/n. thank you."
you nodded right before laying down on his chest again, enveloped in his tattoed arms, your head tucked under his chin while he kissed your forehead.
the two of you were laying down in shared silence, your eyelids heavy, and your heart almost beating out of your chest.
with your head rested close to sukuna's heart, you could hear the uneven thumping in his own. and you remembered that the sukuna you were once with and the man whose arms you were wrapped in now were most certainly not the same person. you really hoped he wasn’t.
and that was all that mattered. you might've been a stupid girl with a stupidly big heart. and you were never going to change that.
—
you slowly nodded to sleep in his arms, while sukuna continued to stare up at your ceiling. he never thought he'd actually make it this far again. and he would rather shoot himself in the spine than fuck this up like he does everything else. you meant everything to him. and this time around, he would treat you exactly like it.
maybe coming to terms with the fact that he deserves to hold onto things that meant something to him wasn't the worst thing in the world after all.
because if caring meant he'd get to keep you, to have you by his side. it'd all be worth it, even if it meant wanted to crawl out of his own skin at the very thought of opening his heart to you again.
—
ik im supposed to be on hiatus but !! my finals just ended and this was already in the works hehe <33 i’ll be back out to study for my entrances again :D aaa i’m actually finally excited to be alive please pray for me. oh and fuck tumblr’s new update and remember to support small authors !!
all work belongs to @liliklei , do not copy, repost, translate or feed into AI !!
art credits: @//hunnismokah . divider credits: @//pixopix .
synopsis: sukuna always liked pretty girls, constantly eyeing the girl in his physics lecture, smart, sharp, always dressed like she means business—he thinks getting your number would be a piece of cake. only to his dismay, he’s met with what he could only describe as a rose with thorns, every eye roll, scoff and disgusted look you shot in his direction only tripling the infatuation he had, and slowly he can feel himself slowly falling for the kind of girl he never thought was his type.
(and thamk you to the lovely @sixxels & @lemonjuicie for helping me w this eek !!)
this is the first instalment to the bitchy!reader cinematic universe !
wc: 4.7k.
—
ryomen sukuna's life was always one that was full of noise, chaos and everything in between. he thrived in the mess that was frat life—the loud parties, the hookups that tasted like cheap alcohol and fruity lipgloss. being frat president came with responsibilities and a reputation that clung to sukuna's skin like the ink that dressed his body.
his notorious reputation always followed him around, not that he cared, he wore the persona like it belonged to him. he was too far in to ever leave the world that practically belonged to him.
his frat practically ran the place, filled to the brim with men that were exactly like sukuna—entitled overgrown pricks who always got what they wanted.
and there was absolutely no denying that sukuna was beautiful—over six feet of pure muscle, tattoos all over his massive arms, his blush pink hair being one of the things that stood out about him the most, always styled in a way that was messy but deliberate. his eyebrow and lip rings adoring his face, and he always had the most shit eating grin to top everything off.
sukuna orbited a domain that was so far detached from yours it was almost comical how far apart your worlds were. he lived in the midst of attention, thriving on any sort of drama he got into it, his lips sometimes bruised with all the pointless fights he got into.
you lived your life in everything sukuna would deem to be, quite frankly put, insanely boring. but you knew exactly what you wanted. and had your entire life planned before you.
you were sharp, straight forward, the biggest nerd any of your friends knew, most importantly you had absolutely no tolerance for people messing up absolutely anything in your insanely curated life.
your books were always aligned to perfection, you always sat at the very front of the class, your pens all matching your bag, your silly keychains crowding your bad almost comically. you always kept to yourself, people ruin things after all—they're loud invasive, some of them likened to bascterially resistant pests that you simply cannot destroy whatsoever.
so there the two of you were, two people universes apart, perfectly content in your own niches that it just made sense. but it wasn't like you were unaware of sukuna's existence. its be impossible if you were—your friends always finding out whatever mess he seems to have gotten himself to every week. you found him entertaining the same way you sometimes indulged in reality tv. it's fun to watch but you'd never touch it with a ten foot pole.
—
"what the fuck man you look like you got run over." toji says, eyeing up sukuna and his absolute mess of an outfit, his hair disheleved, his eyebags heavier than they usually are, flopping his entire body in the seat next to toji's.
"shut yer mouth toji." he almost groans, hands running down his face. he felt like shit. and he swore he could feel his head pounding in his skull, and lord he doesn't even know why he decided to show up to this stupid class anyway. but gods since he was here anyway might as well get it over with.
the class had barely begun before it started to feel like a drag, the professor spouting some nonsense that sukuna could barely comprehend before he heard the sweetest voice answer a question he was barely paying attention to.
his eyes immediately found you—and he swore he felt his breath catch in his throat momentarily. you were gorgeous, your hair done up, your glasses resting on your nose, your collared shirt hugged your body just right, your slightly tinted glossed lips almost shimmering in the classroom's blinding lights.
"yo, toji who's that girl?" he whisper shouts, nudging his friend in his ribs until he answered him.
toji barely registers it before he sees sukuna gaze fixed directly on your form.
"her name's uhh y/n or something. massive nerd, really knows what she's doing, most people are deathly afraid of her though" he says barely paying him any mind. because just had sukuna had his reputation, you had curated yours.
it came from the way you'd dismiss most people that ever dared to waste a sliver of your time, always flipping your perfect hair, having your headphones constantly in your ears blasting a song loud enough to rupture your eardrums to make sure people stayed away from you by all means. the way your eyes would roll to the back of your head when something even mildly infuriated you, just everything about you down to the sometimes bold makeup you'd sport, it just always turned you into someone that was never to be fucked with.
"scared of her, really?" it almost made him want to keep over laughing because well, you were adorable. there was no reason that any reasonable person would be afraid of you of all people, right?
toji snickered next to him. because god, if only he knew.
—
the class was dismissed after what felt like an era and then some, the entire classroom hurrying their way out.
right before you saunter your way out of the room, you can hear sukuna call out your name. and it has you stopping dead in your tracks.
"y/n ! wait up-"
you see the gigantic man run from the very edge of the class towards you and you let out the deepest sigh, because nothing he has to say could possibly be worth your time. you wanted to get back home, tuck yourself into your bed and binge the leftover tub of ice cream you had sitting in your fridge.
"and what could possibly want from me, ryomen sukuna, was it?" you shot right back at him, turning on your heel to stare right up at the man, your eyes narrowing while you committed his form to memory with the utmost scrutiny.
your response had sukuna nearly speechless, because he was used to people raving in his presence not eyeing him like whatever scum you would find at the back of your shoes.
"I—"
"well you didn't come all the way out here to talk to me, if you had nothing to say, correct?"
you were always quick with your words, or so you'd been told, every surefire response always sitting at the edge of your tongue like poison, it always had people on edge.
"I was going to ask you for your number, pretty." he managed to whisper out, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck because he could feel the blood rushing straight into his head. this felt…so out of character—he's never let anyone address him like that before, so why should you be any different? people are always on edge around him, but something about the way you were looking at him as if you could pick his soul apart if he played all his cards wrong had him sweating under the stupid sweatshirt he was sporting.
"hmm, i'll think about it, sukuna." gods, even the way you said his name made him want to shrink into a corner, and a part of him went on a spiral as to why the fuck he thought it was so attractive.
and he had his feet firmly planted on the ground while he watched you leave, your hips swaying in the slightest, your hair swishing as you walked away from him.
this was only the beginning of what could only be described as the worlds worst obsession.
—
sukuna attend the next lecture too, hell bent on at least getting your number. still seated in the back of the class, eyes you while your eyes stay on the board, your expression deadly focused while you jot down your notes it has sukuna blushing like a teenager with a pathetic crush.
he's almost ashamed to admit that he spent a good portion of the next week trying to stalk you. finding all your socials, scrolling down your accounts to memorise each of your silly and perfectly curated pictures to memory, usually of a cute cafe or a hangout with your little friend group, almost the same sugary sweet drink in your hands in each one of them.
some of those pictures of you in cute clothes, your makeup done to perfection while you posed infront of a mirror, your hair framing your face so prettily, a part of his brain wanted to put you in his jacket, well, if you didn't terrify him that is.
sukuna didn't do romance, he didn't do relationships. and he for one, did not have a clue on how to charm a girl that wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.
all he could do was gawk and stare, until the class inevitably ended and he was mentally preparing himself to try to talk to you again.
"she got you good, huh?" toji laughs from behind him, making him almost jump into the air.
"you're an ass fushiguro."
"yeah, yeah, you love me."
sukuna could feel his head clouding before catching up to you again. in the worst and arguably best way possible, you made him feel like an idiot.
"y/n!"
"oh it's you again. i thought you'd give up after the first try sukuna." you smirked, your expression painfully smug while you looked at him.
"well, i was surely not gonna give up that easily, y'know?"
"it's called being desperate."
"i'd like to call it persistence, really." he sounded a lot more confident than he felt, his palms almost sweating and shaking by the mere thought of you. it was pathetic, really. it's a shame you were attracted to pathetic men.
"can i at least walk you out of the class?"
"do as you wish." you snap, walking away, while he catches up to you like a lost puppy outside of the class.
the sight was so odd that you could practically hear the whispers from the people around you, and you mentally sighed. but it's not like you weren't a fan of drama either. it was just funny how quick people jumped to conclusions.
"is that—sukuna?"
"y/n, i thought she hated talking to people, and what's she doing with him."
conversation was practically buzzing and bouncing off the walls while sukuna followed you closely to the university's exit.
"well, that was..well whatever, i'll be on my way." you say before turning away, until he catches up to you again.
"wait! you always head to the cafe from here after class right?" shoot. he forgot that he technically wasn't supposed to know that.
"are you stalking me, ryo?" his brain was so quick to panick he barely registered the nickname before you continued.
"don't get your panties in a twist, i think it's cute." cute? well, yeah he could work with that for now. cute was okay, cute was good. and it definitely didn't have his heart beating uneven rhythms in his chest.
he walked you to the stupid cafe, trying his best to make small talk, but the more he tried to get to know you, the more intimidating you were. and gods, it was just so, so hot, it was killing him.
you rambled on about how you've always had a fascination with physics which is why you took the class, how you forced yourself to be good at it, because there was a time you sucked at the godforsaken subject so badly that it was embarrassing. and sukuna was nodding along taking mental notes before you joined your friends and waved him off.
yuki was immediately, looping her arms in yours,
"sukuna, really? i thought you had better taste, baby."
"well—whatever." is all you had to say for yourself before you ordered your stupidly overpriced coffee and headed home.
—
the next few weeks is just a culmination of sukuna shadowing you like he's a man on a mission.
he wants to know what you like, and moreover he wants to impress you. to the point that all his fraternity brothers hear about in parties is the way you smiled at him for a sliver of a second before scoffing again and they were almost as tired as you were. but a small part of them—toji, choso, gojo, who usually accompanied his drunk ass at parties were rooting for him. because they'd never thought they'd see the day where sukuna would be grovelling at his feet for a girl to look in his direction.
and when he's intoxicated, underneath overwhelmingly bright lights, all he can think about is how you would probably slap him across the face to sober him up. and that thought has him tighten around his pants, embarrassingly so, because the mere idea of you laying your hands on him has him painfully hard.
he can't even look in another girl's direction anymore without somehow thinking of you, the last time a girl tried to hit on him all he could think about was how much you'd love the bows she was wearing in her hair and just how cute they'd look on you.
and before he knows it he's back at his apartment, staring at pictures of you, his hands moving lower and lower until he's fisting his cock, thinking about the way you just roll your eyes, the way you huff when he says something stupid, the way you have him just wrapped around your pretty fingers, the mere idea of it all has him cumming embarrassingly fast, his abs coated in the prettiest sheen of sweat and cum while he groans into his pillows.
sukuna had started falling dangerously fast. but he absolutely did not need nor want to be saved.
—
"well do you ever plan on giving me your number?"
"mm maybe i will."
and that just immediately stuns him to silence. with most of his attempts at teasing, he'd already come to terms with the fact that you'd disagree to most things. so aftet all his begging and piss poor attempts to impress you, had he finally won?
"it's not like you can hold yourself in a conversation with me without sweating. i highly doubt you can text me without thinking thrice about the text, ryomen."
oh. well you were right, like you were almost always, he had no idea what to do with himself—eventually you dragged his phone toward you, inputting your contant with a little nickname and a bunch of pink hearts. well if you'd finally given him your contact, he had to mean at least something (look at this LOSER omfg), so he might as well use this opportunity to the fullest.
your phone would now always be full of stupid memes that sukuna would send to you trying to get you to laugh, even a little.
@//ryo: sooo whatcha doing?
@//y/n: there has got to be better ways to start conversations than that, ryo, try harder.
and this is the first time the stupid nickname you've been calling him finally registers in his brain, the blood rushing to his cheeks before he buries his face into his pillow. fuck, he was losing it. you had managed to nudge yourself into every crevice of his life that he could no longer imagine a singular day where you weren't around him to make fun of him.
—
the next week, he finds a way to be seated next to you in class, front and center, toji finds a way to tease him endlessly about it after, but the way you smile when he actually pays attention during the lecture while taking down notes has him riding that high for the rest of the day.
"you should just ask her out, y'know, this is getting out of hand." gojo says to him during a house party, bending over the pool table while looking back at sukuna.
"are you insane she'll kill me."
"there's NO way she's that scary dude." choso says while huffing out a puff of smoke from the worn out couch in the middle of the room.
"she barely likes me as is, if i pull that she'd kill me."
"and you'd be into that, win-win, right?" toji chimes in.
"you guys all suck." is all he says before finding a corner in the room to try to text you.
@//ryo: i'm so bored here, n/n get me out.
@//y/n: i never thought i'd see the day where you bore yourself out at a party, congratulations.
gods, it was almost just as nerve wracking texting you as it was to talk to you he just didn't understand it. everything about you always had him on edge. and he adored it to bits.
—
the next time he shows up to class he comes prepared. armed with your favourite drink (courtesy of the doomscrolling he did on your account), his stationary now matching yours, while he slowly sits down next to you again.
"what's this, ryo?"
"oh it's that drink you always like—"
"you know what drink i order?"
"no it's just- i'm- i just like remembering stuff about you, okay?"
okay. not the response you were expecting. you were hoping you could tease him into oblivion but the stupid things that sukuna said when he was put on the sport had your heart beating the same dangerous rhythm that his was. but you didn't want to let him in just yet. there's no person who ever made it this far in actually trying to figure you out. and you didn't know what to do with it except wanting to crawl under the ground and live there forever.
you slowly took the drink from him, whispering the sweetest little thank you before drinking it. and sukuna swore he could see stars. he was making progress with you. and by god, he had never felt more accomplished in his life before. because your edges seem to finally soften, even if it were only in the slightest.
—
you sat in your room, your body slack, a disgusting amount of sweat covering you from head to toe as you lay in your bed. you almost never got sick and without fail, every single time that you did you felt like you were being punished by the heavenly principles for something.
your body felt limp, before you continued to rot in your sheets, too tired to get up and shower and definitely too tired to show up to class.
—
sukuna showed up to the lecture like he always does, his eyes scanning the room to find his way next to your seat, only to find out you were weren't there. it wasn't unheard of for someone to be late—but not you, never you, and almost immediately his mind started finding the worst possible conclusion, what if you got kidnapped? what if you were finally so sick of him you left the place? wait no none if that made sense, he ultimately decided on texting you before he went down another embarrassing spiral about how you surely hated him.
@//ryo: y/n where are you class' starting yknow
@//y/n: sorry sukuna im sick :p im trapped in my dorms for today
oh. oh you were just sick. not the end of the world, right? but knowing you, you'd had to have been miserable to not show up for the entirety of the day, his heartbeat dropped straight to his stomach before he continued to type—
@//ryo: what's your dorm number?
@//y/n: r u gonna show up to my room like a knight in shining armour? its xxx.
he could feel his cheeks heat up, this was the most progress he'd made in so long, he barely noticed when toji was practically breathing down his neck and staring at his texts.
"you're actually talking to her huh im surprised."
"the fuck is that supposed to mean."
"you dont linger around someone for this long, sukuna, let alone someone who's shot you down so many times. maybe it's character development"
"she's just..i don't know, different, i guess? she isn't terrified of me, and she has that way of looking at a person that's terrifyingly alluring."
"a couple weeks of talking to this girl and she's turned you into fucking shakespeare, i'm happy for you man." he says before patting him on the back and taking his seat next to him.
—
the very second the class was dismissed, sukuna ran out like a man on a mission. he obviously couldn't get you the same coffee you always drink, that'd surely make you a lot sicker than you already were.
he remembers you vaguely mentioning that you liked soup, so he made his way to this place he always went to when he was hungover before a class, finding a soup that'd be spicy enough for your almost stupidly high spice tolerance, and stopping by a pharmacy to get you some medicine before heading to your dorm rooms in a hurry.
he slowly knocks at your door, hoping to god you gave him the right room number for the sake of his own sanity, and when the door creaks open, he's met with the sight of you, all huddled up in the hoodie that's three sizes too big, you eyes puffy, and your face entirely flushed, it made him want to roll you up into a ball and gnaw on you like candy.
he could hear your little sniffles, making his way into your room, setting down the bag of stuff he had managed to collect before he made his way inside.
"i didn't think you'd actually come, y'know."
"of course i did are you kidding me? look at you, you should be glad i showed up."
"whatever would i have done without you, my saviour" you rolled your eyes at him, trying your best to not let yourself slip. but you really were glad that he was here. it meant that he cared. that he wasn't just doing this with some form of underhanded motive in mind. it meant that it wasn't the same sukuna you first got to know. the one standing before you was softer, shyer, so disconnected from all the stories you'd heard of him and it scared you.
you show him the way around your kitchen, your brain still foggy from the near dangerous amount of cough syrup you'd downed before he made it to your place.
"your roommate isn't here, is she?"
"yeah she has work to get done, and i didn't want her to get sick." you sniffle almost pathetically.
"right, right." he said before moving around plating the soup into the pastel pink bowls you had in your kitchen, right before moving before you, slowly supporting your back to stop you from keeling over in pain.
"god, look at you, you can barely stand up straight."
"well, carry me around instead of kicking me when i'm already down, won't you?"
sukuna is stunned, well not for long before his hand moves to the back of your knees, the other supporting your back, carrying you back to your room bridal style. normally you'd have some smart retort, under other conditions you would've thrown a hissy fit, but now you were too tired to say anything, and having him carry you with near zero effort to your room had you weak in your knees.
he wastes no time in bringing the soup back to your room, dragging a seat close to your bedside, sitting down before he brings a spoon to his lips before blowing on it to make sure it wasn't too hot, before moving the spoon to your lips.
the cough syrup must've replaced the last brain cell you had left because you barely put up a fight before wrapping your lips around the spoon.
sukuna's shocked that you almost instantly comply, not before you shoot him the same look you gave him when you first met. you didn't have it in you to pick a fight, not when he was being this..nice. it made you all fuzzy and feel funny, and before you could find the rational part of your brain to try to stop you—
"ryo, why are you doing this?" you ask while he sets the bowl aside, while you sink into your hoodie, your voice barely a whisper nothing like the sharp confidence you wore while talking to absolutely anyone.
"what do you mean?" he shoots back, almost offended by the question.
"like..this, taking care of me, constantly bugging me with stupid shit, remembering the things i like, it's all so strange. people orbit you, sukuna. they'd worship the very ground you walk on. so, why me? is it so you can prove a point?"
sukuna was almost taken aback. that was probably the rawest confession he'd ever heard from you, all your walls cracking right before him right when you withdraw in on yourself, sinking into the plush mattress while trying to look everywhere but him.
"because you actually look at me past the stupid frat boy persona, y/n. you look at me as if you're picking me apart, you actually question the shit i do instead of just letting me get away with everything. you say things as it is, and i just really admire that. for what it's worth i'm not trying to prove a stupid point, if i was, i wouldn't go this far to change for you, right?
the moment he went on this little tangent, it did make you realise, he had changed essentially everything about himself to make sure he wasn't the same douche that he used to be. the whispers in the hallways thinned down, he got into lesser fights, and for the first time in all his years of college sukuna's name wasn't being talked about in some sorority girls' friend group on how he said he's call but never did.
it'd been subtle, well to you at least, until the person that was sitting by the side of your bed wasn't the same sukuna anymore. he'd changed. for you.
the both of you sat in that heavy silence, intelligible feelings bubbling to the surface with this careful game you'd been playing around each other. sukuna trying not to push you too far and you teasing him until he does.
"i—gods i want to ask you out y/n. this is killing me, but i'm not gonna do it here, you deserve something a lot more romantic, just let me down gently if you're gonna reject me, alright?"
you slowly nod, and to sukuna's shock,
"i think i'd like that. a lot, actually. just don't trip over your own feet."
he was almost ecstatic, jumping straight into you arms, wrapping his biceps around you, enveloping you in his warmth, crushing you underneath his weight while you slowly pat him on the back.
"mmph sukuna— youre heavy !"
" 'm sorry i'm not getting off of you just yet."
"you gigantic loser oh my fucking god—"
"aaaand she's back."
and before you know it the two of you are giggling in your bed, still crushed until sukuna's weight, while he has his face in the crook of your neck while you're comfortably lulled to sleep under his weight, the two of you forgetting everything else for a moment.
it felt like two galaxies collided, two disparaging universes, and two equally menacing people falling into each other's embrace as if they always belonged in each other's arms. and maybe letting your walls crack just the tiniest bit wasn't the worst thing in the world. because being in his arms wasn't difficult. not that you'd accept it anytime soon.
and sukuna, mr. frat president, had never had someone lodge themselves in his heart so permanently, so quickly, he just couldn't stop himself from falling. it felt like damnation and it felt like grace all at once. and he promised himself that he'd only get better for you.
you were roommates with who you could only describe as two walking overgrown puppies. toji and sukuna your two darling roommates, the two pretty men always the ever looming menaces in your life—there was almost never a boring day with them around.
so you barely register it when sukuna brings a tiny replica of himself, an adorable toddler with the same tuft of blush pink hair into your shared apartment while you and toji and lying on the couch lounging while watching a terrible movie. the second the little boy runs up to you screaming is the very moment you realise kuna bought a toddler home.
the little boy faceplanting into your tummy while you pat him on the head—
“and who are you, baby?”
“im kuna’s little bro, pretty lady!!” he screams so full of energy that only a kid without a care in the world would say.
“watch yourself, brat” you see sukuna walk into the room with a bag full of…what looked like stuff from a baby store.
“sukuna he’s four.” you can hear toji snicker at your grimace next to you, his hands still lazily wrapped around your waist.
“yeah yeah same difference, babes.” he says, almost annoyed.
“so i guess we’re all on babysitting duty tonight, huh?” you giggle, scooping yuji up into your arms, spinning him around while he grabs at your face and lets out the cutest laugh.
what you don’t notice is the way sukuna and toji are eyeing you, the way they’re watching you carry yuji around in your arms like its second nature, the way you’re blowing raspberries to make him laugh while yuji pinches your cheeks. something about the sight is just so, so warm, it makes them want to lock you in here and never let the world see you again.
the rest of the evening is nothing short of eventful, the three of you teaming up to tire yuji out before its bed time—toji chasing him around the house while the three of you play a game of tag, falling over comically in the stupid ‘the floor is lava’ game while yuji squeals trying to topple sukuna over, and toji and sukuna cooking dinner with yuji seated like a chef’s hat on sukuna shoulders while you bake, dabbling smeared chocolate on each of their cheeks, toji and sukuna trying to hide their blush while yuji licks the chocolate clean off his face.
the moment you’re all done cooking, the three of you are cuddled up against the massive pullout couch, howl’s moving castle playing in the background, while yuji’s curled up on your side munching the cookies you baked for everyone.
“pretty lady, you bake well” you hear yuji mumble between mouthfuls, wiping the smear of chocolate from his face—
“thank you yuji.” you grin at him. you’ve always adored kids, they were just the cutest—so bright so full of energy it made you melt.
“y’know we make a pretty killer trio.” you hear toji whisper in your ears, trying your best to keep up your stoic facade around them, but the warmer they were to you, the more you felt your pulse race unevenly.
babysitting with them was..strangely fun. the three of you always did stupid things together but the more you did, the closer you felt from it teetering the edge between tight friendship or something more.
“yeah we do” you hear sukuna gruff behind you, placing a blanket over your form. well, whatever feelings you had to process could wait, you could feel yourself being lulled to sleep, while yuji curled into your arms, and before you knew it you were out like a light, snuggled up between toji and sukuna’s warmth with yuji in your arms.
toji and sukuna look over each other, something that they’d been doing more often when you were trapped between them.
they were too far gone now, too in love with you to screw this up. and this stupid babysitting ‘date’ teetered between something dangerous. the way you tripped over your feet, fell into their arms, the way you kissed yuji’s apple cheeks like it was second nature. the way you danced around your little shared kitchen like no one was watching. it was all just so you. and they loved hated it. they hated wanting to have someone who seemed so soft, so warm, everything that was worth living for while they were just..well, them.
they’d do anything for you—now here you are curled up between them, yuji sound asleep on your chest. and gods they hope you’ll let them hold onto you forever. because you’ve effectively ruined them without even trying. you’re just so kind, so pretty, just so out of their chaotic world, for once in their godforsaken lives, they want to deserve you.
sorry for the yearning at the end lawl do u guys love me yet
divider credits: @//pixopix .
all work belongs to @liliklei , do not copy, repost, translate or feed into AI !!
authors note : yummy i love angst , might be ooc so bear w me aaand this is satorus memories of you / trying to remember you in a vhs form or something. okay? okay bye ( also hi @liliklei this is kinds inspired by u... in some way.. )
“snowtrap :P”
crackle, crackle. crackle, crackle, crackle.
the stupid old thing is so dusty, it's breaking signal— oh.
it's showing.. snow. someone behind the camera walking as the soft snow crunches under the weight, loud breathing heard behind the camera as small puffs of the cold cold come out.
the camera looks up a little and shows a girl, back turned. it doesn't look like shoko nor does it look like utahime.
who is she? he can't remember her.
she finally turns to the camera, rubbing her hands together even with mittens on. then, his own voice rang out, but younger.
“say hi to the camera!”
“hah— satoru stop!” the girls voice shouted as he threw snowballs at her, her trying to throw her own back.
the camera fell because of that, muffled voices coming above.
“park park park park!”
crackle, crackle. crackle, crackle, crackle.
same old crackle as before, always before it starts.
now, the scenery is different. its at some random park. its him with suguru, shoko and the same girl as before.
he can remember a bit now,
that girl liked mangas right? and animes?, that's cute, isn't it?
it shows shoko on a swing with suguru, laughing echoes.
the girl is smiling, licking some lolipop and the camera zooms on her, then his own voice shouts out.
“group photo!”
“is it a group photo if it's a video..?”
“yeah!, what shoko said!”
“what both of them said, satoru.”
“partypoopers..”
“me + her = ♡”
there's not much of that crackle than there was the first 2 times.
which is good, the signal is getting closer right?
the environment is now at some diner, with the same girl as before, he can remember more about her now!
she was really sweet to him, one of the people who didn't only look at him as the strongest, but saw him as satoru gojo.
one of the people who didn't determine him by his strength.
the environment was so soft, probably from the camera lighting.
“satoruuuu! stop taking out of my food, my god!”
earning a grin from him, that toothy one that was so adorable!
“satoru?”
“hm?”
“I'll really miss you.”
“do you still see me the same?”
“why didn't you tell me?” the girl asked,
“I didn't want to hurt your feelings.”
“so much for the "strongest"!”
“please, me and you know you won't last a day being the strongest. just leave me alone, Y/N. ”
“what's the point of being the strongest if your only going to get withered to the point you don't know who you are?, what's the point of being the strongest if your only appreciated for what you do to someone if not yourself!?”
he now remembers you. you are Y/N!
your the girl who loved him to eternity, your the girl who loved him even if he was burnt out, your the nerdy cute girl he liked, your the one and only, you were the girl who promised to love him to eternity when you couldn't even live up to the eternity.
oh y/n, he can't remove the sight of your lifeless body staring back at him, your heart in the mud, dirtied when pure before.
as his scarred body lays there on the cold ground, the only memories he had in his last 7 minutes was his childhood years, his years with those first years and memories of you both together. you'll meet again, just not in the way he wanted.
you always kept to yourself, never really spoke unless spoken to first. he doesn't think you do anything other than study.
so when you have him in the back of his own car, he's surprised that you turned him into a whimpering mess.
you rode him like there was no tomorrow, arms wrapped around him with your mouth pecking at his neck. there was love bites all over his body now, each one placed with care.
his cock slammed upwards into you, balls slapping at your ass. you were milking him fucking dry.
even more so now that his legs were apart, allowing you to be in the middle, giving him the best goddamn head he's ever received.
your teeth teasingly grazed at his length as you sucked him off. his body bolted in a mixture of pleasure and pain. satoru moaned, pushing the back of your head to take him in further.
"fuck. don't do that shit." he gritted out.
you pulled away with a pop, a string of saliva mixed with pre connecting your lips with his tip. "do what?"
satoru frowned, opening his eyes to meet with that dumb sly smile on your lips.
"use fucking teeth, that's what. it hurts baby."
"does it now?"
you lowered your head again, wrapping your warm mouth around his cock that was begging to cum. your hums vibrated throughout him and all he could do was throw his head back, fighting embarrassing sounds.
yeah, he was dead wrong on assuming that you out of all people, were shy.
stay with me now being sandwiched between nanami and higuruma. they’re both so eager to please you, higuruma’s pretty hands around your neck while nanami’s are wrapped around your waist, their complete attention focused on you and you alone. they’ve both been watching you burn yourself out with work, all they want to do is fuck the stress out of your pretty brain.
Soft whiny moans escaped from you, as you sat on Higuruma's lap his cock snuggled inside you. He gave no attention to you as he looked through his documents and scribbled on it. Your pussy trying to accommodate his sheer size as it moulds its shape inside you, god, you wanted to move so bad. Your legs were splayed on top of his thighs while you were gripping on the desks trying to sit still. If you moved a bit trying to get some kind of friction, one of his hands would come to slap on your twitching clit.
You turned to look at his face slightly with your innocent eyes, begging him to let you move. But too bad, he was liking this too much. “Hm?” He grunted, still not looking at you. You whined to get his attention, as you felt him twitching inside you “hiroo?” You asked with a drunken gaze. He sighed as he put his pen down, relaxing on the chair. When he adjusted the way he sat, your hips instinctevely sank on top of him, feeling him stirring even deeper inside you as you let out a moan, trying to maintain your composure.
He let out a chuckle at your pathetic state “you are practically begging for it, aren't you?” He whispered in your ear when you felt your back pressing onto his clothed chest. One of his hands came up to graze your abdomen, as he gently rubbed it. “Feel that?” he said moving a bit, as kissed the nape of your neck, the breath hot against your skin. You stirred on his lap, letting out a whimper. He gave a harsh slap on your thigh, “be quiet, sweet thing” he mumbled “we don't want anyone interrupting us, right?” his hand snaked up towards your throbbing clit “so wet f’ me” he jerked his hips, you bit your lips so hard as you tried to contain the moan.
He pushed both of your legs up to your shoulders telling you to hold it in place. If anyone walks through the door in front of you.. they will get a clear view of what's unfolding between them. But you knew no one dared to come through that door when you were with Hiromi. But the thrill of being used like this only made your desires deepen. He kissed your cheek several times as he whispered “im gonna fuck you— so hard” his breath hitched when you said in a hushed plea “please”
You felt him smirking slightly as he gripped on your thighs to pull you up slightly to pound into you. You threw your head back as you felt your need getting satisfied through each thrust. The chair under him shaking violently cause of the sheer force of him fucking into you. He grunted close to your ear. Letting you know how much you are making him feel. Your walls clenching on to his girth so tight when you felt yourself orgasming around him, he let out the most erotic moan known to mankind “God— you are killing me” you were trembling all over as he kept you in place not giving you any second as he kept on pounding into you determined to fill you to the brim.
“Slow- go slow, hiro!” you pleaded, he shushed you, as he shifted the weight of both of your legs to his one hand, and used his other hand to give a firm slap to your ass. A suppressed moan left you in the stinging pain. “I told you to be quiet, didn't i?” his pace picked up as he gripped on to the flesh of your ass, when you felt him fumbling the rhythm, his grip on your ass tightening, leaving harsh, red marks as he thrusted inside for the last time, strings of cum painting your gummy walls. As he let out a long pant, releasing his grasp on you as he made you look at him. A grin flashing across his face at your fucked out expression as he leaned in to kiss you, his cock still warm and snuggled inside you.
18+ fratkuna eats out shy!chubby reader during a frat party ❤︎
when you'd come to this frat party with your friends, the last thing you'd expected was to have fratkuna blatantly flirting with you in the dining room — throwing you compliments every which way; lightly grazing his fingers over your body whenever he could; standing so close to you that you could smell his balmy cologne and the alcohol from his breath.
initially you'd thought he was playing some sort of sick joke on you. maybe his frat bros had dared him to do this. to flirt with the poor, podgy girl and get her to think she actually had a chance with a hot guy like sukuna.
"huh? you think i'm fucking with you?," he grunts, raising his eyebrow in disbelief at your vacillation. "you're a catch, doll. you're sexy as fuck."
"you really think that?," you mutter, fluttering your sweet eyes up at him and stepping even closer to him so that now your chest faintly brushes up against his side.
"why would i be here with you if i wasn't interested?"
★
so now you find yourself messily making out with sukuna, his incredibly large body engulfing yours with his strong arms wrapped around your full figure. it sort of makes you giddy at how easy it seems for him to pick you up and throw you on to his bed, clambering on top of you with his lips still latched onto yours.
he begins to trail a line of open-mouthed kisses over the expanse of your body, giving soft squeezes to your plump flesh every now and then. you can hear him groan ever so quietly under his breath as his hands roam over your body, feeling your velvety skin against his rough, calloused hands.
his hand creeps under your skirt, bunching it up around your waist. he presses his fingers to your already dampened panties, a low groan rumbling from his chest. "shit, so wet f'me," he whispers by your ear which makes your cheeks burn and your hands coming up to hide your flustered face.
sukuna hooks his fingers onto the hem of your panties and when you lift your hips up, he quickly removes them, discarding them somewhere across his room. his huge hands spread your thighs apart, staring hungrily at your sweet pussy, running his fingers up and down over your slit and coating it with your juices.
"c'mere," he mutters, slinging your plush thighs over his shoulders, pulling you to the edge of the bed with impeccable ease. you let out a little squeak, not expecting him to be able to move you around like a mere ragdoll — the whole thing just makes your pussy gush.
without giving you any sort of warning, he dives right in, slowly and sensually gliding his fat tongue over your sweet core. your hands tangle themselves in his pink hair, tugging on them as he begins to suckle on your clit, making the most loud and lewd noises as if he's got some point to prove.
he's being so sloppy and dirty with it — spit slobbering down the sides of his mouth as he sucks you, pumping his fingers into you and hitting you right in that delicious sweet spot of yours, and groaning every time your voice gets so adorably high and pitchy. fuck, there's practically hearts in his eyes as he watches you unravel before him.
the way you whimper and moan so cutely, squirming under his touch, and squishing his face in between your plump thighs — he'd never admit it but he feels he could cum at any moment.
"fuck kuna," you mewl, grinding your hips on his now flattened tongue. "i think — aahh~ — think 'm cumming."
"make a mess f'me, pretty girl," he grunts, swirling the tip of his tongue right on your puffy clit and curling his fingers just right, making you scream his name.
you're gushing everywhere in the next few seconds, covering him in your candied juices and he laps up every last drop, not letting you go until he feels satiated. with a loud 'pop', he unlatches his mouth from your core, a smug smirk spread across his lips, glossy with your slick.
sukuna peppers a line of kisses up your thighs all the way to your stomach and then coming up to your lips, giving you a tender kiss where you taste yourself on his own lips. "so," he says in that sexy, sensuous voice. "when can i see you again?"
Hey so I thought we as userbase should organize spontaneous blackout protest against shapes inc ads here. I thought Feb 26th would be a good date (so ppl has 72 hrs notice if they want to participate), we would log off for 24hrs to show tumblr we are not okay with that (and also for shapes to get less ad revenue for a day in a process lol). Tag would be 'anti shapes inc protest'
If you like the idea/want to participate, help spread the word by reblogging this ask. Thanks <3
I would happily comply with this, hopefully enough people participate for it to make an impact!
eeeek this is my entry for @cherrys-wrld ‘s 2k event pussywhipped TYSM FOR LETTING ME PARTICIPATE AAAAAA ILYSM <33
cw: 18+ content mdni , oral (m!receiving) .
nanami always meant business—being a professor, he was always dressed in a crisp suit, with a tie tied to perfection around his collar, his hair so perfectly done not a singular strand was ever out of place. his voice was always stern, never an octave higher than it should be, his glasses always perched at the edge of his nose. everything that nanami did was intentional, nothing was ever out of place.
but like all great things even the most polished rocks will always have his cracks. and poor sweet nanami's weakness was none other than his sadistic, pretty wife.
—
nanami never worked overtime. he was always home right on time, never spending an extra minute at work, he was efficient, quicky, and always on time—so the second the clock struck, and you looked up you realised nanami was going to be home late. and you were not having any of it.
and he knew what the consequences of keeping his pretty girl waiting was—he'd just be lying if he said he didn't look forward to it.
he was trying to rush everything, his class took longer than anticipated, the department deciding today would be the perfect day to hold a surprise meeting, and before he knew it, he was two hours late.
and this might've been the first time that his students saw him so…flustered.
"do you think mr.nanami kept his wife waiting? he was so quick to leave—" was the last thing he heard before he made it out of campus.
—
you were seated on your plush couch, clad in the prettiest robes, a glass of wine in hand, your nails done all pretty, just the way nanami liked it.
just as you set your glass down, you hear nanami practically burst through the doors—his face flushed, his glasses almost falling off of his nose, his suit just the tiniest bit disheveled, his tie hanging loosely on his neck.
"you're late, kento." your tone was sharp enough to cut glass and fuck he could feel his pants tightening slightly at the mere thought of you being mad at him. (gods he was pathetic)
"i know my love, i'm so sorry i got caught up—" he was out of breath trying so hard to dig himself out of this mess—were you mad at him? did you hate him?
"i don't want excuses, nanami." your voice cut through the room, sauntering towards him, yanking him by his tie, dragging him towards the couch you were seated on mere moments ago.
right as his back hit the couch, he looked up and he swore he could see a glint in your eyes, the way you were looking down at him, your manicured nails running up the coloumn of his throat before resting right at his chin.
"it's only fair you let me do whatever i want, right kento? you did keep your poor wife waiting for so long after all."
"of course my—" he could barely finish his sentence before he felt your hands tighten around his throat, your nails softly digging into the flesh while he tried his best not to whine under your hold.
slowly kissing the corner of his mouth before meeting his lips and straddling him, you swore you could hear pathetic little apologies leave his pretty lips, his coming up to hold onto the the sides of your waist, while you slowly rocked your hips against his.
"now, now this wont do"
before he could even think of a response you were already loosening his tie, grabbing both of his hands, lifting them above his head and tying them up together in a pretty little bow.
"that's much better, isn't it pretty kento?"
your poor husband was already far too gone from a couple of kisses, nodding his head slowly, his gaze never leaving your pretty lips for even a moment.
"you'll stay still for me, won't you my love?" is the last thing he hears before you get off of his lap, slowly discarding your silken robes, your pretty bod clad in his favourite lingerie before you drop to your knees before him—slowly unbuckling his belt and dragging his pants down, while he let out the most pathetic whimper while you kissed the inside of his thighs before licking a stripe along his boxers.
you waste absolutely no time in dragging his boxers down, his cock springing free, flushed the prettiest, almost painful shade of pink. spitting onto the palm of your hands, while wrapping your nails around him, deliberately pumping your fist up and down slowly, watching his face and neck flush the brightest shades of red while he throws his head back, while letting out the softest little moans at your movements.
"kept me waiting for sooo long, yknow, that's not nice now, is it kento?"
"i-im sorry i was just—" he was practically on edge, barely able to form coherent sentences the second your pretty, glossed lips wrapped around him, your hands moving to grip his thighs while you took him down your throat, bobbing your head at an excruciating pace—and he couldn't do anything about it. he was fighting the impossible urge to want to fuck your throat but his hands were tied down and it hurt, it hurt so good.
"haah—honey slow down i'm close-"
and the second you pulled away, you could hear him whine, he was already painfully hard, on the verge of cumming, he was trying to be good, he really was but gods it hurt, so, so good.
"did you really think i'd let you off the hook that easy, my husband?"
something about the way you said it, the way you stood up, wiping your spit away from the corners of your mouth, seating yourself back in his lap, the soft lace of your panties rubbing up against his throbbing length.
"m-my love please just—"
he was pleading, his voice all raspy, his bottom lip the most gorgeous shade of red, his eyes almost brimming with tears, the friction of your hips moving against his was killing him, the second you slowed down and stopped, he was a whimpering mess, mumbling into your ears about how cruel you were being to your poor, poor husband.
"oh, kento, you were two hours late, im being more than fair with you aren't i?" you purred into his ears, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his hands still restrained by that stupid tie he wore to work everyday.
you were pressing kisses down his throat, slowly sucking at the spots that you knew drove him insane, grazing your sharp nails down his back, i mean who could blame you? your serious, stoic, utterly perfect husband was now wrapped around your fingers, completely at your mercy, you'd be crazy if you didn't torture him just a little, right?
nanami was holding up fairly well, until he felt you push your panties to the side, sliding down his cock, and the second he felt your slick walls flutter around him he was gone—he felt dizzy, the blood rushing straight to his head, he was a whimpering mess underneath you, and he himself could barely make any sense out of what he was saying.
you were barely moving, only grinding your hips against his, stopping every moment you thought he was going to cum. it was torture. pure, sweet, torture. and who was nanami to deny his pretty wife? with the way your sly smirk had never left your face for a single moment, he could tell with his clouded, fogged up, practically drunken brain that he was in for a long night.
how’d i do chat >.< neways i’ll prolly be off of tumblr (& all my socials) for a couple weeks because ive procrastinated for the past two years & i need to study everything & cram all this nonsense i have to study in a month,,,pls pray that my diabolical lock in works out even tho it’s insane <33
all work belongs to @liliklei , do not copy, repost, translate or feed into AI !!
