One. Two. Three. Four.

protecting you ★ megumi fushiguro

inspired by @okkatsudon !! go check them out plz <3

— pairing: megumi fushiguro x gn!reader ෆ angst?, fluff, hurt/comfort ෆ wordcount: 939 ෆ warning: injury mentions, blo*d mentions, slight body comfort in some parts, de*th threat mentions, megumi being insecure, a lot of crying

a/n: i will work on requests after this! so sorry, i have not been motivated lately. had this rotting in my drafts for like, 2 months now? so i quickly finished this up to post for content cause i need to start trying to be consistent (-_-;)

the digital clock struck 1AM, when megumi stumbled through the front door, limping and wincing.

"y/n?.. y/n!" he yelled through the quiet apartment of their partner. he was in terrible shape: his body covered in bruises, blood leaking out of his head, while patches of his clothes were ripped torn.

he was in distress, looking for the presence of his one and only. his eyes scanned all the rooms from corner to corner. his chest tightened, and so did his throat; so nervous, so worried. until he remembered there was one more room, their bedroom.

he stumbles into the bedroom of his lover, feeling like his lungs would collapse at any moment. he swings the door open, before seeing y/n, making his body loosen from panic.

y/n laid on the bed, tucked warmly underneath the covers, sleeping. he feels his heart ache, as he quietly walks over to their bed, sitting down next to them, the bed dipping next to them.

he adored their slumbering face, his pumping heart calmed down as he admired them.

the warm lamp on the bedside table made their face glow, the tone of their skin being megumi's favorite color. despite any skin imperfections they had, they were radiant as ever, to megumi atleast.

he stayed quiet for a while, his eyes adoring them like a camera lens; picturing and saving every twist in their skin and bend of their bone to remember in his memories.

he starts talking, even though he's well aware their asleep.

"hello y/n. i'm sorry, i know it's late, but i just have to.. get this off my chest. today i got, in a.. really gruesome fight. and i mean, it was terrible. blood was everywhere, screams left and right you didn't know where to look first. you know i'm a somewhat calm person, unlike yuuji or nobara. but.. i've never been so, terrified before. i was shaking and my heart was caught up in a frenzy. it's kind of embarrassing telling you this, to be honest." he laughs dryly, his throat itching with pain.

"but anyway, i wasn't scared for myself. i couldn't care less about me ending up on life support or something. but.. it was you. the curse brought you up, and said it knew i was fond of you. it threatened me, telling me it would, kill you." his voice stifled, his hand on the sheets gripping it tightly.

"it said, it would kill you when i wasn't watching. and that, i'd end up visiting your corpse one day. that's what scared me. it said it with so much certainty, i started doubting myself, and my abilities. again, this is super embarrassing." he mumbled stubbornly, hiding his face in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.

"but, i had full right to be nervous. i'm not that good of a sorcerer, nor am i that morally great. i still have so much to improve. i mean, what would happen if it did get to you? we defeated it thankfully, but what if it kept it's promise. what if, i won't be able to save you. what if i'm too weak for you? i feel like everyone's getting better, while i stay the same." his voice starting to break up and falter.

"you might be in trouble, and i might not be able to save you, and it's going to be.. all my fault." hot tears started pouring from his eyes, as he squeezed them shut, hoping to stop them. his throat clenched, but the more cries left his mouth. megumi was shattered by the idea of not being able to save his own lover, wiping his tears away wasn't taking effect, nothing was.

he looks at his sleeping beauty, his eyes teary-eyed and face full of wet marks. his heart twists and pulls on it's owns strings, seeing them so peaceful, not aware of how much danger he's actually putting them in. he slowly climbs over, and lays on the empty spot next to them, resting his head on the extra pillow, wishing everything could stay just like this. his fears storm his head, terrorizing and clouding it.

"i'm sorry if i can't save you. i'm sorry if i can't be strong enough, i'm sorry if your going to die because of me, i'm sorry.. i'm sorry, i'm so sorry." he curls into a slight ball next to them, bursting into quiet sobs again.

"i hope you know how much i love you. i love you so much. if something happens, i hope you remember that i love you, and that i've gone beyond my limits to try and keep you safe. your a miracle to me, and i'm sorry if i'm being a huge annoyance right now, but you really do mean a lot to me. im so sorry if i dont show it. you mean the world and more, to me. please forgive me." he clung to the blanket, letting out all the things he had always wanted to say, drunk in sadness and extreme admiration.

after what seems like forever, his breath calmed down, his face all blotched and pigmented with tears, his nose clogged, his hands weak, as his blood from his prior injuries smearing on the blanket and pillows. he was a total wreck, while his beloved beauty stayed in deep sleep.

he takes one last glance at them, barely being able to keep his eyes open for long. "i love you." he whispered, his throat breaking up the words, before his eyes shut closed, falling asleep, next to his oblivious lover.

any support given are greatly appreciated :)

taglist [always open!]: @hirugummies

Snow Leopard Gojo - part 2 (∩˃o˂∩) ♡ nsfw!

Shoving a six-foot-something hybrid into a closet was… not your finest moment.  

“Get in,” you hissed, palms pressed uselessly against Satoru’s bare chest, a chest that felt more like marble than flesh, all hard planes and warmth. He loomed over you, grinning like a cat who’d not only found the cream but also knocked it over for fun.  

“Aw, but it’s cozy in here,” he purred, peering past you at the mountain of laundry and half-empty shoeboxes cluttering your closet. His tail swished lazily, brushing your ankle. “Smells like you, too. Cute.”  

“Satoru-”  

“Shh, your mom’s gonna hear~,” he sing-songed, bending down until his breath ghosted your ear. “Unless you want her to find us like this?”  

Your face flamed. “Don’t be dumb.”  

With a theatrical, yet awfully bratty sigh, he finally stepped backward, folding himself onto the floor like a contortionist. The Hello Kitty towel around his hips rode up dangerously, and you swore he did it on purpose. “Don’t miss me too much,” he whispered, wiggling his big, calloused fingers in a mocking wave.  

You slammed the door, heart thundering.  

The next thirty minutes were agony. Your mother, bless her, had arrived with tupperwares of veggie gyoza and white chocolate chip cookies, her smile soft as she fussed over your “tired eyes” and “skinny arms.” But every creak of the floorboards made you twitch. Your gaze kept darting to the bedroom door, half-expecting Satoru to waltz out, towel dropped, declaring, “Surprise! I’m her new roommate!”  

Somehow, he stayed put.  

Once your mom left, you flung the closet open, only to freeze.  

Satoru sat cross-legged amidst your soft sweaters, his snow-white hair mussed adorably. The towel remained (thank heavens), but clutched in his hands was…  

“Are those my-SATORU!”  

He blinked up at you, your cotton, strawberry-print panties dangling from his teeth like a hunter’s prize. “Mmrf?”

His pupils were blown wide, blue barely peeking from black. Your heart dropped to your bum as you saw that those were the panties you wore yesterday… As in, not washed, dried, faint slick still clung to the middle.

What?!

“You-you pervert!” You lunged, snatching the fabric away. His plush lips quirked into a smirk, and you knew he’d been waiting for this. “Why would you- how even- ?!”  

“They smell like you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. Before you could die, he leaned forward and licked a stripe up your tiny neck. His pink, rough tongue scraping your pulse point.  

“Eep!” You reeled back, clutching your throat. “Warn a girl!”  

“But where’s the fun in that?” He unfolded himself, tail curling around your waist to steady you. “C’mon, I’m starving… Especially after smelling you. Feed me!”  

You didn’t acknowledge the “smelling you” part, merely walking to the kitchen with your tummy in swirls, heart beating faster than a spooked bunny’s. 

Dinner was a spectacle. You’d cooked the lamb chops thoroughly, plating them with rice and veggies, a meal fit for, well, a person. Satoru took one look at the knife and fork, snorted, and dug in with his hands, tearing into the meat like it owed him fresh ibex.  

“You’re supposed to chew, not inhale,” you muttered, nibbling one of the cookies your mom brought. Your dinner was… weird most of the time. You had warm milk with chocolate in your miffy cup, getting curious side eyes from Satoru. 

He paused, a glob of sauce on his cheek. “Want me to lick the plate next?”  

“No.” 

“You’re no fun.” Still, he let you drag him to the sink afterward, pouting as you scrubbed his hands with citrus-scented soap. “Y’know, my tongue’s self-cleaning.”  

“And I’m self-respecting. Keep your icky germs to yourself.”  

As night fell, Satoru’s true origin spilled out between stolen bites of your cookies. The Himalayas. Poachers. A wealthy owner who’d treated him like a trophy. “Boring lady,” he grumbled, tail thumping the couch. “All she did was take pics for her shitty Instagram. No belly rubs or cuddles. No fun.”  

Your chest ached. “So you… ran?”  

“Duh.” He flicked your nose. “Best decision ever. Led me to you.”  

You busied yourself with dishes to hide your blush. Satoru saw it, though. His tail swished in quiet victory, more like self-satisfaction.  

Bedtime brought a fresh battle.  

You had just finished a relaxing shower, your room smelled of lavender, the lingering scent of your body wash. Changing was meh. You changed in your tiny closet, worried Satoru might walk in and see you naked, but once done, and in your small, soft, very lacy nightgown, you felt more than ready to sleep.

But just as you lay down, you saw Satoru peeking through your cracked open door, his expression beyond cute, just as annoying. It was obvious where his eyes were, trailing your pert body. You felt his pretty blue’s burn harshly on your perky breasts, on your hips, put on display by your little nightgown.

“Bad kitty,” you said, tossing a miffy plushie at Satoru’s smug face. Your cheeks turned rosy, bothered that a mere look from the man could make you so… shy. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”  

He’d changed into your brother’s old sweatpants (too short, clinging to his calves) and a Hello Kitty tee that stretched obscenely over his pecs, the hem riding up to reveal a sliver of toned stomach. “But it’s cold,” he whined, flopping onto your pink bed like an overpowered little prince with the caught plush in hand, well, not little. “And lonely. And scary.”  

“You’re a snow leopard. You are scary.”  

“Please?” He rolled onto his back, paws (hands? Hands.) clasped under his chin. Moonlight gilded his white, thick lashes, his eyes shimmering like twin lagoons. “I’ll be a good boy. Promise.”  

You lasted ten seconds.  

“Fine. But no funny business.”  

He celebrated by rolling himself into a burrito with your Hello Kitty quilts, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth with his ridiculously strong arms. His purr rumbled through you, low and steady, his nose nuzzling your hair.  

“Hey,” you whispered, fingers brushing the collar still snug around his throat. “Why don’t you take this off?”  

He stiffened, then sighed. “…It’s a reminder. That I’m mine now. Not hers.”  

Your heart squeezed. “You are.”  

“Yours too, maybe,” he murmured, so quietly you almost missed it.  

You fell asleep like that, his tail draped over your hip, his breath soft in your ear, his strong heartbeat like a gentle lullaby, and the strangest, sweetest sense that this jerk wasn’t that much of a jerk.  

The rhythm you’d carved out with Satoru was… peculiar, but precious. Mornings began with him sprawled across your chest like a living weighted blanket, his tail flicking your chin until you groaned awake, just like how he was in his cub form. He’d trail you to the kitchen, stealing bites of your buttered, honeyed toast (despite his carnivorous hate for carbs) and sipping your orange juice straight from the carton, just to watch you squawk. Afternoons were for sunbeams, he’d claim the best patches of light, melting into a puddle of purrs near the TV, while you tackled textbooks at the table. Evenings? Those belonged to his obsession with your bathtub. He’d soak for far too long, clouding the water with lavender bubbles, his ears peeking over the rim like misbehaving marshmallows.  

When you’d come in to scold him, he’d pout and dry off, mumbling about how “mean” his owner is. 

But today, something was off.  

You’d returned from class bone-tired, your brain still buzzing with equations, only to freeze in the genkan. The air hummed with a sticky sweetness, honey drizzled over sea salt, floral but feral. Your stomach flipped. “Satoru…?”  

No answer.  

The apartment was eerily tidy. No half-eaten steak abandoned on the counter, no trail of shed fur leading to the couch. No Digimon reruns on TV… Just silence, thick and syrupy. Your pulse spiked as you crept toward the bedroom.  

There, curled in a shivering heap on your rumpled sheets, was Satoru.  

“Oh my god-” You rushed to him, knees hitting the mattress. He clutched your pillow to his face, his knuckles white, breath ragged. His usual alabaster skin was flushed rose-pink, sweat glistening at his temples. The scent intensified here, heady, intoxicating, like orchids dipped in musk.  

“Satoru, look at me,” you pleaded, cupping his jaw. His eyes cracked open, pupils blown so wide his irises were mere slivers of Arctic blue. They glowed faintly, fever-bright. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need-?”  

“Heat,” he rasped, voice shredded. His claws snagged the pillowcase, threads snapping. “It’s- hah- not… not your problem. Just… go.”  

“Go? You’re burning up!” You pressed a cold, tiny palm to his forehead; he whimpered, nuzzling into your touch like a starved kitten. “Why didn’t you tell me this could happen?!”  

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing,” he hissed, though the effect was ruined by how he arched into your hand, chasing your fingers as you brushed his hair back. “Snow leopards don’t- nngh- don’t do this every year. Just… when we…” His throat bobbed. “…find a mate.”  

Your breath hitched. “Oh.”  

“Not that I’m- ah- proposing,” he gritted out, tail lashing. “Just… biology being a dick. I’ll be fine. Go.”  

But his body betrayed him. He shuddered violently, a broken whine escaping as he rutted against the mattress, hips stuttering. You saw the way his stiff cock pushed against the cotton of his pajamas, the way there was a tiny patch of wetness… pre cum staining the fabric. The motion sent a bolt of heat straight to your cheeks, but not more than the way the bed shook faintly, just a mere glimpse of how strong he is.  

“Stop being stubborn,” you whispered, climbing onto the bed. Your pink sundress rode up to your pretty thighs as you settled against the headboard, legs folded. “C’mere.”  

Satoru stared at you, conflicted, pride warring with desperation. Then, with a tiny wounded noise, he crawled into your lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck. He was trembling, his skin scorching through your clothes.  

“Shh, it’s okay,” you murmured, cradling his head. His ears flattened, velvety against your palms. “You’re okay.”  

“Not okay,” he choked out, fingers clawing the sheets instead of your hips- oh, never mind, his fingers started to knead your hips, like dough. “You’re too… soft. Smell too good. Hate this.”  

“I know,” you soothed, rocking gently. “Just breathe.” Funny thing is, your heart was racing, you should breathe too, but the way Satoru touched you went straight to your core, making you sticky, your panties clinging to the fluid. 

You traced idle patterns over his back, avoiding the dip of his spine where his tail met skin, yet that didn’t change a thing. He jerked, a guttural purr rattling his chest. You felt his lips on your neck, his fangs grazing your skin, begging to sink in, bite you as he fucked you senseless. “Fuck, baby- don’t- please- ”  

“Does this help?” you asked softly, skimming your nails up his nape. Your cheeks burned as you saw the damp spot on his pajamas grow, like he was a leaking faucet of need. 

“Yes. No. Stop.” He gasped, hips rolling helplessly, uselessly. “Don’t… don’t tease me.”  

You weren’t, but hell, it felt like it. Your free hand rested on his tummy, shifting him a little to be comfier. Eyes trying to not stray to his weeping, cotton covered cock, the way it twitched, the way your core oozed more warm slick.

Satoru obviously caught on, having a sharp nose, but he just whined, feeling frustrated. He didn’t want to hurt you, in any way, so he tried to avoid the thought of rutting into you, feeling your tight, warm, gummy insides hug his thick length tight, how he’d fill you with his warm, salty release, maybe watch it flow out as he fingered it back in…

Fuck, this wasn’t helping. 

“I’m not,” you promised, heart aching. His anguish was palpable, a storm of need and restraint. “Tell me what you need.”  

“You,” he keened, the word raw. “But I can’t- won’t- hngh- ”  

“Shh.” You pressed a soft kiss to his temple, tasting salt. “I’ve got you.”  

Slowly, so slowly, you palmed his tummy, the muscles quivering beneath your touch. His breath hitched, a broken sound, but he didn’t pull away. You mapped the planes of his abdomen, going lower despite your heart beating too fast, your body feeling warm, gentling him like a spooked kitten. His purr stuttered, deepened, until the bed vibrated with it.  

Satoru’s breath hitched when your tiny hand brushed the very bottom of his tummy, near his pubic bone. His eyes widened, up on yours as his hands clung to your dress, unintentionally pulling it down, revealing your baby-pink lace-covered, pert breasts.

Your hand hesitantly ran over his stiff cock, lips parting at the sheer size of him, how girthy and long- was his dick curved? You almost fainted, but Satoru’s whine, paired with his puffy lips clinging to your now released nipple, brought you back.

What?

Your panties flooded, and you mewled softly, palming his aching cock as you watched him suckle on your nipple like a hungry baby. His eyes shut a little, and his ears- oh, his cute ears twitched with each suck. His hips jerked up desperately, whimpering nonsense onto your breasts. His sharp little fangs brush the sensitive skin, leaving you a mess.

You couldn’t say no to him anymore. But you hadn’t a clue how to please a man… Sure, you saw a few videos before, a girl jerking her hand up and down the length, the man groaning before he came, but was it the same to every man? You saw the way Satoru was almost crying as he suckled, basking in your palming, but far too needy, far too eager for more.

Who were you to deny him?

You gently pulled his pajamas down, eliciting a whimper from his pink lips, still stubbornly latched onto your nipple. His other hand now kneads your other breast, eyes up on you, looking far too innocent for the situation. 

“Shh, I got you, kitty. Let me take care of you.” Once his throbbing, girthy, long cock bobbed out from his pajamas, your eyes widened, pupils shifting to phantom hearts.

Holy shit.

Satoru was pure fantasy. His weeping dick, and swollen balls aching. His pinkish-red tip dribbled small amounts of milky release, his length covered in faint veins, curved faintly upwards, like a hook. Aroused was an understatement; you had the urge to sink down on him, despite your shy self, to feel his fat tip kiss your soft cervix…

Satoru suckled harder, nipping on your nipple, massaging the other until pliant. You glanced down at him, softly whimpering along to him as you began to follow pure instinct, jerking him off.

“There you go, kitty,” you whispered. “Just let go.”  

He went boneless against you, limbs heavy, face barely hidden, his saliva bathing your now puffy nipple. His tail coiled around your ankle, an anchor. 

Sweet thing hadn’t uttered a coherent word the entire time; that’s how gone he was. Your fingers grazed his swollen tip, adding more pressure to the length as you went up and down. Satoru’s whimper, alongside the jerk of his hips, with the hard nibble of your nipple, told you he was close.

So when his release fell like a waterfall, sticky white fluid spurting from his tip to his clenching tummy, all over your tiny hand, he trembled, ears twitching, tail shaking faintly. His lips didn’t leave your nipple, though, saliva strand staying intact as he looked up to you half lidded, whining softly.

“That’s it, baby… Such a good boy, hm?” You cooed softly, cheeks rosy, matching his. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, hands trembling softly. But when your sticky hand left his relaxed cock, he suckled more, almost begging to have some kind of physicality with you. Your hand cradling his head to your chest allowed him to, feeling your own arousal grow tenfold worse.

After a quick wipe of your sticky hand on his already messy pajamas, you let your hand rub his chest, noticing his sensitive spots far too easily. He whimpered quietly when your fingers lightly ran over his pink nipples, and when your nails brushed his collarbones. 

By the time his breathing evened out, the room smelled of nothing but lavender, sticky release, and sleep.  

His sleep. 

Poor baby was worn out, overwhelmed from the pleasure, rightfully exhausted. 

You didn’t move until moonlight spilled through the curtains. Slipping away only to first get a warm, wet cloth to clean his tummy, then you changed into your coziest Miffy pajamas, pulling a new pair out for him too. You returned to find him sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. The collar glinted in the dark, like his release.

You gently cleaned his saliva-ridden lips and chin, then his tummy, making sure to get his snowy happy trail clean from release. After removing his dirty pajamas and pulling his new ones up, you threw the cloth and pants in the laundry hamper, settling beside him with burning cheeks and a full heart.

“Stay,” he mumbled, hoarse but lucid, as you slid under the covers.  

“Where else would I go? Silly kitty.” You curled into his side, head on his chest. His heartbeat soothed you, a steady drum beneath your ear.

Pleasuring him was scary at first, but… Now in bed, all comfy and warm with him, you felt far more confident, less shy about it. Sure, your panties were slick, messy with what he caused, but you’d deal with it later; now it was all about Satoru, your baby.

He hesitated, then wrapped around you, his nose in your hair. “…Thanks… ‘M sorry for-”  

“Be quiet, ‘Toru, don’t say dumb stuff,” you teased.  

He huffed a laugh, his ears burning pink, feeling surprisingly shy about being jerked off by his cute little owner. “Shut up.”  

But his big, warm arms tightened, his purr resuming, softer now, a lullaby. You kissed the hollow of his strong throat, just above the collar.  

“Next time,” you whispered, “don’t suffer alone. Please.”  

He didn’t answer. Just nuzzled closer, his tail swathing your legs like the world’s fluffiest blanket. 

But when you slept and felt his cheek nuzzle into your breasts, you knew the answer already.

Silly kitty.

End. 

Whoa! That was a lot, but I hope you truly enjoyed :) I wrote 90% of this half awake, since that's when my brain just locks in and spills the best writing I could ever pull out. I absolutely adore this little munchkin, so I will be making silly little drabbles, both sfw and nsfw, when I have the time. Btw, all my nsfw content is NOT for minors, and please do note I have this written in my intro, which is pinned. Take care of yourselves, lovelies :P

cw - afab!reader. unedited.

Itto didn’t realize he had a breeding kink until this very moment.

Until he had your face pressed down into the bed and your ass up high, his hands spreading your cheeks so he could watch the way his cock fucked into you, a mix of your slick and his cum frothing around your stretched hole and leaving a milky white sheen on his length.

He had come too many times to count—thick, creamy load after load pumped deep inside your pussy as he overstimulated himself as well as you. Praises that had been spouting from his mouth the moment he finally got you home had now turned into unintelligible grunts and deep groans, the feeling of your soft cunt wrapped around him rendering him dumber than usual.

It felt as if it was his first time fucking you all over again, and he cursed at the thought that he had been missing out on this for all those years you were a student in Sumeru. You had refused to let him come inside you, not wanting any unplanned oni babies interfering with your studies, and Itto hadn’t minded one but. He had never fucked anyone else before, never experienced the feeling of shoving his cock in deep and filling someone with his seed, so he hadn’t had any complaints.

Fuck, I’m an idiot.

He hissed out between clenched teeth, black claws biting into the fat of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his harsh thrusts, balls loudly slapping against your clit each time his cock bottoms out inside you.

The insides of his thighs are wet with his cum that’s dripping out of you, and the smell of your combined scents is making his head fuzzy. “Ngh,” he grunts, a sliver of drool dripping onto your back as he watches the way your ass ripples when his hips meet you. “S’good…smells good.” He just barely manages to get out, and you answer him with a keen, pussy clamping down around him as you arch your back even more, the new position allowing him to fuck you deeper than before.

Itto can feel himself getting close again—he can feel his balls tightening and his muscles flexing, and he pushes himself to fuck you even harder, ignoring the aching in his body, and his eyes flutter as you cry out, messy cunt creaming around him for the umpteenth time.

His cock slips out of you due to all the wetness, and a pitiful whine leaves his mouth as he quickly looks down to stuff himself back in, but he’s momentarily stuck when he watches the globs of his cum that come pouring out of you, your spasming hole pushing it out.

He shoves himself back in with a groan, and the moment his balls are nestled against you he’s coming; thick ropes of cum adding to the mess between your legs. You sag against the bed, Itto’s hands that are still clutching your hips keeping your ass raised, and he pants above you as he slowly pulls his sensitive cock from your spent cunt, his cum once again drooling out of you.

Sharp teeth bite down on his lip as he watches the raunchy sight, and even though he feels as if his dick’ll fall off if he uses it any time soon, he finds himself pushing back inside, hard and ready to fill you up until there’s not a drop of cum left inside him.

Hiiiii!!

I’ve been hella horny for Dain ever since I played through the new archon quest coul you write smth filthy for him

I’m too obsessed w that man ty ily🥲🖤

OMG ME TOO

I'm sorry, I know dain's story quest was supposed to be sad and stuff but all I could think about was being his travel partner and how you guys are camping but you two are literally so horny for each other that the tension leads to some rough sex 🤤💀 ehe.

warnings: outdoor sex, pervert! reader, f masturbation, cumming inside

Dain doesn't know it but you love him.

Being his travel partner is... interesting. Cause you cherish your friendship with him more than anything so fucking it up is not an option.

You just wanted to BE fucked. By him specifically.

See? Interesting.

During your journey, nightfall had arrived sooner than you two thought and since there weren't any towns nearby, you two decided to make haven in the forest.

The crackling fire and the crickets chirping are the only sounds in the dark forest you two were currently having camp in.

You lean back and stretch your arms on the log you're resting against with a prolonged sigh, your bones creating satisfying pops. "Man, I'm beat. Those hilichurls sure gave us trouble."

"you should get some rest then." Dain replies while poking at the flickering fire with a stick.

You drop your arms in your lap before tilting your head. "What about you? Are you gonna sleep?"

"I'll keep watch." He explains while flashing you a small smile.

You're unable to help the shy smile that makes its way across your face. He's always so considerate to you. "U-um, nah, I'll just stay up with you. You know, to keep you company..."

"Alright. That's fine."

You shift on the ground uncomfortably, your eyes shamelessly wandering his body. He wasn't wearing his cape, he never does when you guys rest, so his built body was on full display.

Free eye candy basically.

You're such a pervert but you can't help it. You wanted him so badly.

"something wrong, y/n?"

You jump from his voice. the way he says your name sends electric shocks straight to your groin. Not good.

"n-no, I'm fine." You laugh nervously while brushing your hair behind your ear as Dain intently observes you.

You needed some relief. Like, as soon as possible before Dain could catch on.

"you shouldn't lie to me, y/n." his eyes darken and you know he's only concerned but fuck that stupidly hot authoritative voice only makes you swoon.

"you've been acting like this recently. Would you care to tell me what's bothering you-?"

"No!!"

Dain's taken aback by your outburst but you quickly clear your throat and stand up from your spot, your ears bright red. "S-sorry, I just.. I-I'll go get some more firewood!"

Turning on your heel, you take off into the woods before Dain could even attempt to stop you.

Panting while glancing back to make sure that you're a good distance away from the campsite, you stop and lean against a tree before slouching down.

You didn't mean to shout at him. You know he meant well but...you just couldn't have him finding out about your dark thoughts and desires.

Your face is flushed red and your breathing is still shallow from the adrenaline but you drag down your shorts and underwear to drop at your ankles.

It's been way too long since you last did this. Your libido has been building up this whole time.

With two shaky fingers, you gently suck on them to get them wet before gently grazing against your clit and that already sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine.

Biting your lip to stifle the whimper you threaten to let out, you continue to give fast tight rubs to the sensitive bundle of nerves, your thighs quaking all the while.

Fuck, fuck, it feels so fucking good-

Your fingers coat in your slick as you rest your head back against the trunk and gasp for air. How would Dain react if he found out you were addicted to touching yourself?

With your back arching as you grip onto the bark, you moan out a name without thinking.

"D-Dain...!"

"you called?" A husky voice whispers in your right ear.

Yelping from surprise, you try to whirl around but end up tripping on your shorts and flop on the ground. Of course he followed you.

Dain lets out a low and sexy chuckle as you try to retain whatever dignity you had left by covering your exposed parts while turning over with tears in your eyes.

He bends down to your level and trails a hand up your thigh while leaning toward your face. His eyes are lustful, hungry, and it makes you tremble. You've never seen him like this before.

"why so shy? That was my name you called earlier right?"

You exhale while averting your gaze and cover your mouth with the back of your hand. "M..mhm."

"If you needed additional assistance, you could've just asked," He mumbles while playfully nipping on your earlobe, his hands traveling dangerously under your shirt.

You mewl and lean your head back, allowing him access to your neck. He takes the opportunity and plants soft kisses down to your collarbone.

H-his lips are hot...it feels good.

Dain suddenly pulls back and hovers above your face with a gentle expression. "What do you want from me?"

"h-huh?" Your face turns bright red. Was he really going to make you say it??

Looking away in embarrassment, you stammer to get the words out. "I...I want you to fuck me."

"I need details sweetheart. You want it fast? Rough?" His voice akins to a growl and you realized that's probably how he wanted to do it unless you differed.

You part your lips to ready your response before finally voicing it. "However you want, Dain."

You did your best to try and sound seductive until he captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You eagerly meet it and run your fingers through his blonde hair while you both practically try to inhale each other's mouths.

You run a hand down his chest before trying to lift his shirt up as he does the same to you, trying his damn hardest not to tear it off instead.

Once you're both successfully naked and your clothings are tossed aside, Dain hoists your legs around his waist whilst pushing his erection against your core.

You squeak, your body tingling with anticipation as you watch Dain strip his pants off, his dazzling eyes never leaving yours.

His breathing is ragged and he seems desperate almost. "I always knew. What you've been doing whenever you ran off on your own in the middle of the night."

Your cheeks burn red but you cover your face to hide. You already knew he knew. you didn't need him to say it!

He suddenly leans down to your stomach and snakes his tongue out to get a taste of your skin, earning a full body shiver from you. "But know this y/n. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time too."

Your eyes widen and you slowly remove your hands. "r-really-?"

Your voice is cut off by a cry when he roughly thrusts inside to fill you with every inch of his cock.

Your hands fly to his shoulders for support but he swiftly grabs them and pins them above your head.

You whine, not liking the restriction until he pulls almost completely out before sliding back in and you're certain you heard him swear under his breath before settling into a steady rythm.

"D-Dain, please, I-" you inhale sharply when he hits a good spot inside you, pleasure clouding your mind.

"I wanna touch you!" You finally manage to sob out.

Dain smiles slightly in amusement before bending down to kiss and suck your jawline as puffs of your breath cloud the air.

"and I wanna make you scream." He murmurs hotly, making your walls clench.

He feels it too cause he lets out a guttural grunt before doubling his efforts to reach your cervix, causing your eyes to roll back.

He smirks lopsidedly at the erotic sight. "that's a good look."

His praise has you melting and moaning lewdly as you do your best to absorb all the pleasure he's giving you, your voice being drowned out by the loud and obscene skin slapping against skin.

Good thing you guys were out in the middle of nowhere.

But you're unable to stay still, your body jerking and shaking with the intensity of your approaching orgasm. "Dain! I'm gonna cum!"

He only hums in acknowledgement before trailing his tongue down to your bouncing breasts and enveloping a nipple into his mouth to suck.

That was the push since you arched your back before exploding around him with a scream, tears leaking from your eyes at the intensity of it.

Dain's brows furrow before he hurriedly rides over his own edge, filling you with his seed. You almost cum again at the warm sensation, feeling the tremors of his cock empty what seemed like every last bit he had into you.

Dain doesn't bother slipping out and keeps himself snug inside as both of your chests heave up and down.

your gaze is fixed on the bright stars in the sky before you direct it to Dain.

And you are so glad you did because he looked absolutely beautiful right now. His hair was a mess, strands of it were sticking to his face and his cheeks were flushed red.

His eyes were focused on you and they were full of...love? Fascination?

Whatever it was, it had your heartbeat racing again.

You look away, not being able to handle his gaze before swallowing. "Well uh, I should probably go take a bath in the river."

"oh." He states bluntly, blinking dumbfoundedly.

You smile before reaching out to cup his face.

"would you care to join me?"

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ IT’S OKAY, YOU’RE GOOD.

Tw - light angst, roommate trope, reader has daddy issues and seeks comfort from toji, Age gap (20, 40), Not proofread.

I’ve always had this angsty roommate trope with Toji in the back of my head— where the reader is a college student who gets kicked out by her parents and is forced to share an apartment with someone else because you can’t afford a place on your own.

Somehow, you either got lucky or unlucky and ended up living with an older man who’s nearly as old as your own parents.

But he always minded his own business, and the two of you only exchange brief hellos and the usual polite pleasantries. You’d think living with an older man might be weird or even a little fucking creepy, but it’s clear he has no interest in you in that way.

The thing is, you have a lot of unresolved issues and wasn’t treated the best growing up, leading to a lot of personal problems and issues. As the days pass, you and Toji start talking more, gradually getting used to each other’s presence while still maintaining a respectful distance.

He didn’t seem to have a lot of hobbies— just a typical older man working the usual 5 to 5.

You had no idea what his job was, nor did you care enough to ask but he had a fond of working out— considering that most of the time when you get home from your part-time, you’d find him in the living room doing push-ups or bicep curls while half-watching some random horse racing show on tv that you’re 100% confident that no one else cared to watch.

You don’t remember when exactly the lines started to blur. When the occasional greetings turned into quiet conversations over late-night meals. When the awkward tension of cohabiting with a stranger faded into something resembling familiarity. Toji was still Toji— distant, extremely rough around the edges, and uninterested in prying into things that weren’t his business.

But maybe that’s what made it easy to be around him.

He never asked why you flinched when your phone buzzed with a call you refused to answer. He never questioned why you worked yourself to the bone at a part-time job that barely paid enough to cover rent. And he sure as hell never brought up the nights you came home with your eyes red-rimmed, shoulders tense like you were holding yourself together with sheer will, alone.

But he noticed.

Maybe that’s why, on nights like these, when the weight of it all felt unbearable— when the ghosts of your childhood clawed their way to the surface to fucking torture you, leaving you hollow and exhausted. You found yourself in the living room, drawn to the quiet presence of the only person who never asked for more than you were willing to give.

Tonight was no different.

Toji was exactly where you expected him to be, sprawled out on the couch in nothing but sweatpants, a hand lazily resting on his stomach as he watched another horse racing rerun. His other hand held a half-empty beer can, the faint smell of cheap alcohol lingering in the air.

He didn’t acknowledge you right away, but you knew he saw you.

“You look like shit". His voice was rough and tired like he’d already had a long day and didn’t have the energy for sugarcoating. But there was no malice behind it. Just an observation.

You let out a dry laugh, softly rubbing your arms as you hesitated near the edge of the couch. “Thanks toji. real comforting".

He lowly grunted in response, tilting the can to his lips before glancing at you again. “Something happened?”.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk about it. The words were there, lodged in your throat, tangled with years of resentment and hurt that you never got the chance to voice.

But where would you even start?

“My dad called,” you muttered instead, settling for the simplest truth.

Toji didn’t react right away. He took another sip of his drink, his gaze unreadable. But he didn’t need to say anything— you could tell he already understood.

“And?”

“And… nothing,” you whispered, dropping onto the couch beside him. “Just the usual bullshit. Asking where I am. Acting like he gives a damn after throwing me out like I was nothing”. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your hoodie, gripping it tight. “I didn’t answer”.

There was a long silence before Toji let out a slow exhale. “Hmph. Probably for the best.” You turned to look at him, searching for judgment, for some offhand remark about how “he’s still your dad” or how you should “at least hear him out”. But there was none of that.

Just quiet understanding.

Something inside you lit.

Before you could stop yourself, you shifted closer, curling your knees up against your chest as you leaned against his side. Toji tensed for a moment but didn’t pull away.

“You’re warm,” you murmured, closing your eyes.

He sighed through his nose, shifting just enough to get comfortable. His body heat seeping into your skin. “Yeah well, you’re freezing”.

A part of you expected him to brush you off, to push you away like everyone else had. But he didn’t. He just sat there solid and steady, letting you rest against him without a word.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel completely alone.

You don’t know how long you sat there, curled into his side like some pathetic thing seeking warmth and comfort. Toji doesn’t say anything, doesn’t shift to move you off. He just sits there, the low hum of the television filling the silence between you.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe it’s the fact that no one has ever let you just be without demanding something in return but you find yourself inching closer, practically climbing into his spawled lap before you can think better of it.

Toji tenses beneath you, his body going rigid as he feels your weight settling on top of him. For a second, you think he’s going to push you off, tell you to go to bed, or deal with your shit somewhere else.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he exhales through his nose, one large hand coming up to rest against your back, broad and grounding. “You really are touch-starved, huh?” he mutters, amusement barely masking something softer beneath his tone.

You don’t answer. You just press your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in— cologne, sweat, and the faintest trace of whatever cheap beer he’s been drinking. It should be embarrassing, the way you’re practically clinging to him, an older man you’ve only known for about four months but shame is a distant thing compared to the bone-deep exhaustion squeezing tightly around your ribs.

For once, Toji doesn’t make you feel stupid for it.

After a moment his hand moves, dragging up your spine in slow, deliberate strokes before slipping into your hair. The gesture is clumsy at first, like he’s not used to comforting anyone this way but his fingers are warm, threading through the strands with a gentleness that makes your throat tighten.

“Damn,” he mutters, his voice rumbling beneath your ear, “when’s the last time you brushed this?”

You huff against his skin. “Shut up”.

He chuckles, low and rough but his fingers don’t stop. If anything, he grows more methodical, smoothing out the tangles with a patience you wouldn’t have expected from someone like him. It’s oddly soothing, the way he works through each knot with careful precision, his other hand resting against the small of your back, keeping you anchored on him.

No one has ever touched you like this before—without expectation, without ulterior motives. Just quiet, wordless comfort.

Your eyes burn, and you squeeze them shut, pressing yourself closer. “You don’t have to do this,” you whisper, though you don’t pull away.

Toji sighs, his fingers still carding through your hair. “Yeah, well. Doesn’t seem like anyone else has”.

It’s a simple statement but it cracks something deep inside you.

You don’t cry. Not really. But your hands clutch at his broad shoulders and Toji doesn’t say a damn thing when your breath stutters when you shake just the slightest bit against him.

He just keeps brushing his fingers through your hair, steady and patient. Like he’s got all the time in the world.

And for tonight, at least you let yourself believe it.

You don’t know what came over you. The urge rising like a tide that you couldn’t hold back. Maybe it’s the way Toji’s fingers are moving through your hair, the warmth of his chest against yours. the steady, comforting pressure of his body under yours. Maybe it’s the vulnerability that’s been simmering in your chest, the raw need to feel something else other than burden.

Your lips hover near his throat, your breath shaky and fingers clenching on his shirt as you tilt your head. The space between you is thin and fragile. He’s close enough that you could close the distance, and you find yourself trembling, your heart pounding too loudly in your chest.

Before you can even think it through, you tilt your head up just a little more, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. It’s a light touch, barely there, but enough to send an electric shock through your body. The warmth from his skin makes you ache for more. A soft, quiet need you’ve kept buried for far too long.

But Toji’s body tenses, his hand freezing in your hair. “Hey,” he murmurs, his voice rough with a warning that makes your pulse spike in sheer anxiety. “What are you doing?”

You pull back, your heart thudding as the weight of what you’ve almost done settles in. But before you can apologize, to retreat into the usual walls you keep around yourself, his eyes are soft but firm.

“Don’t”. His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it. A certain caution you hadn’t expected. The hint of strictness almost making you cry.

You open your mouth, words trapped on the tip of your tongue but nothing comes out. He doesn’t move away though. Doesn’t push you off. He just holds your gaze, his eyes dark but kind, not angry, not judgmental— just… something else?

“You’re just a kid,” Toji says. His voice was low, almost a murmur. “I don’t see you like that”.

You flinch, even though the words shouldn’t hurt, even though you knew somewhere deep down, this was where it would go. The distance was inevitable. He wasn’t like the others— he didn’t want you in that way and you weren’t ready to be wanted like that anyway. Not from someone like him.

“Sorry,” you whisper, unable to look at him. You try to pull away, to move off his lap, but his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you back in.

“Hey, none of that”. His voice softens as he steadies you. His palm strokes gently down your back, grounding you in the silence between you. “I’m not mad. But I’m not that kind of guy”.

You swallow hard, nodding slowly— trying to push back the sting that rises in your chest. The air feels colder now, the warmth of his body less comforting, like a reminder that you’re still just a kid in his eyes.

But then without warning, Toji shifts his position, pulling you closer to melt into his body, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath you. His lips lazily brush the top of your head, just a light touch, like a reassurance.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something you can’t place. “I’m not gonna push you away, kid. Just… just need you to know your place, alright?”.

Your breath catches in your throat as you settle back into him, the weight of your emotions flooding back in full force. It feels too much, too complicated and you don’t know what to do with all the things you’ve never said. But for now, you let yourself sink into the safety of his arms, the warmth of his embrace enough to silence the chaos in your mind.

His fingers trace gently down your spine again, a comforting gesture you can’t ignore and then his lips press a soft kiss to your forehead. It’s simple, tender— a reminder that while he might not want you in the way you want, but he’s not leaving you to fend for yourself. Not tonight.

And maybe that’s enough. For now.

Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers

PART 5: WHAT'S IN THE BOX?

ONE TWO THREE FOUR

*WARNING* - Darker content, animal abuse

The package arrives while you’re out getting lunch. It's just a normal-looking box with no return address, but it's for you. It gets dropped on your desk, and nobody thinks much of it... at first. But the room shifts when one of the guys walks by and catches a whiff — something metallic, decaying.

Koko is the first to get suspicious. He notices its weight and the strange smell. His gut says this isn’t right. He grabs a knife and slices the tape, muttering, ‘Let’s make sure this isn’t something sketchy.’ The second he peels back the flaps and sees fur, he stops cold.

Kakucho, standing beside him, leans over and instantly goes rigid. ‘Is that...?’ he breathes.

Ran, who’d wandered over, covers his mouth and curses. Rindou just turns pale. ‘What kind of sick bastard—’

It’s your cat. Lifeless. Carefully posed. There's a note inside that reads: "Still choosing it over me?"

They all freeze. Not because they’re afraid — but because they’ve officially crossed the line between protecting her and vengeance. And you’re not even back from lunch yet.

Koko closes the box again. Gently. His hands are shaking — not with fear, but rage. ‘I want his location. I want to know his daily route, who he talks to, and where he sleeps.’

He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. He’s already calling in favors.

Kakucho is gripping the desk like he's trying not to punch straight through it. ‘We tell her gently,’ he says, voice rough. ‘We don’t let her open that.’

He's already planning how to bury the ex — literally — without you ever knowing the details.

Ran is furious but deadly calm. ‘He wants her to suffer. This isn’t a message, it’s psychological warfare.’

He looks at Rindou. ‘You know what that means.’

Rindou nods. ‘We make him disappear. Not quick. Not painless.’

Sanzu lets out unhinged laughter. ‘A cat? This sick bastard sent her a dead cat?’

His grin is too wide, eyes wild. ‘I’ll gut him like one. Make it rhyme.’ No one tells him no. He’s already got the guy’s photo pinned up in his mind.

Takeomi is silent. Looks at the box, then at the note, and walks out of the room. No one stops him. Ten minutes later, he’s back. ‘Got someone tailing him. We do this clean. No witnesses. No mess for her to worry about.’

Mochi clenches his fists. His voice is hoarse. ‘She loved that cat. Talked about it all the time.’

He’s the one who gently picks up the box and moves it to a back room. ‘She’s not seeing this. Not today. Not ever.’

Mikey hadn’t walked in until the box was already opened. He stares down at it. No emotion on his face. But everyone feels it — the shift.

‘It ends today.’

He doesn’t elaborate. But when you come back, he’s sitting calmly at the front, waiting for you — like a shadow guarding the gate.

They don’t let you see it. Kakucho intercepts you first with a soft, ‘Hey — can I talk to you for a sec?’

Ran and Kokonoi keep you busy. Sanzu and Rindou take the box out the back. Takeomi calls the cleanup crew. Mochi quietly clears your desk, making sure it looks untouched. And Mikey... he just watches the door, waiting. Because if the ex even thinks about coming near you again, he won’t walk away.

You walk through the door twenty minutes later, lunch in hand, and smile like nothing’s wrong. A little tired, maybe — but chipper, pretending like always.

‘Hey, Kakucho,’ you call lightly, approaching the desk where he’s waiting for you.

‘Got a weird text from my neighbor. Said it sounded like my cat was losing its mind earlier — yowling or something.’ She snorts, digging into her bag. ‘That old hag’s always hated him. Thinks cats are ‘omens’ or some crap.’

You laugh. ‘Honestly, he probably just knocked over a plant or something.’

Kakucho just stands there, frozen mid-reply. Your smile is so real. So normal. And all he can think about is the box that was sitting on her desk thirty minutes minutes ago.

He forces a smile. ‘Yeah…cats do weird stuff sometimes.’ His voice is rougher than usual. You don’t notice.

You’re still joking, still talking, ‘I was gonna grab some treats on the way home too — he’s been extra clingy lately. Total brat, but he’s my little shadow.’ You roll your eyes fondly, completely unaware you’re twisting a knife into Kakucho’s heart.

The others are watching. Quietly. Subtly.

Koko is at his desk, pretending to be on a call, but he’s listening — jaw tight. Sanzu is leaned against the far wall, fingers twitching, eyes locked on you like a predator holding back. Ran has stopped his paperwork entirely, a pen held still in his hand. Rindou looks sick. Mochi is gripping a coffee cup a little too tightly. Takeomi won’t even look in your direction. Mikey... Mikey hasn’t blinked since you walked in. He’s just watching you smile. And it’s killing him.

Kakucho cleared his throat, his voice low, ‘Hey, do you mind if we talk in the conference room for a minute?’

You blink, ‘Oh? Sure, yeah — I didn’t mess up the schedule, did I?’ You chuckle, still oblivious, still sweet.

‘No,’ he says gently. ‘I just… there’s something I need to tell you. It’s important.’

Your smile falters — just a little. But you follow without question, still carrying your lunch, still talking about how spoiled your cat is, how you swear he knows when she’s coming home.

The others don’t follow. They stay behind. Silent. Still. Sanzu’s already texting someone with a photo of the stalker. Mikey says nothing. He just stands and walks out, his eyes empty. That man signed his death certificate the second he taped that box shut.

The conference room door clicks shut behind them. It’s just you and Kakucho.

You’re still smiling faintly, setting your lunch on the table. ‘So, what’s up? You’re being all mysterious, Kakucho.’ 

He stands across from you, arms loosely crossed, like he's holding himself back. He doesn’t meet your eyes at first. ‘Before I say anything,’ he starts, voice low and careful, ‘I want you to know something.’

You tilt her head, confused. ‘Okay?’

He breathes out slowly. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong. And none of this… is your fault.’

That makes you pause. Your brows pull together. ‘What is this, an HR talk?’ you joke, half-hearted. ‘Am I getting fired?’

Kakucho finally looks at you — really looks. And you know. Your smile flickers like a candle in the wind.

‘What happened? you ask quietly.

Kakucho walks over to the chair across from yours, pulls it out, and sits down with his hands clasped. He’s trying so hard to keep it together, to be steady for you.

‘There was a package delivered for you while you were out,’ he says softly. ‘It… looked suspicious. So we opened it.’ He hesitates, his jaw tightening.

Your voice goes still. ‘What was in it?’

A pause. Too long. Then, ‘Your cat.’

You don’t react right away. You just stare at him like the words haven’t sunk in yet. ‘What do you mean?’ you ask blankly.

‘It was your cat,’ he says again, more gently this time. ‘He’s gone.’

Another pause. You blink once. Looks away.

‘Oh.’

That’s it. No gasp. No tears. No screams. Just a hollow little oh — like someone told you the weather forecast changed. Like the part of you that could feel anything about this just... shut off.

Kakucho watches you, waiting. Hoping you’ll cry, or shout, or break. But you don’t. You pick at the edge of her lunch bag. Adjusts a napkin. Your hands are shaking.

Kakucho leans forward, elbows on the table, ‘You don’t have to hold it in,’ he says quietly, ‘Not with me.’

‘I’m not,’ you reply softly, eyes on the table. ‘I just… I thought maybe he got out again. That I’d find him under the couch or something. That he’d be mad I was late.’

And then, finally, your voice cracks, ‘I left the window open this morning. I didn’t even say goodbye.’

Kakucho doesn’t say anything. He just gets up, walks around the table, and crouches beside your chair. Puts a careful hand on your arm — not pulling, not forcing. You lean into him slowly. Don’t cry. Just lean your forehead against his shoulder and let him hold you.

And outside that door, the rest of Bonten is already making plans to erase the man who did this.

CRASH COURSE ﾉ xia caleb x female reader ៹ explicit content, unprotected sex, virginity loss, mentions of cheating (none actually happens), pet names (pipsqueak (sorry but i have to be accurate) gege, good girl), instructional sex, blowjobs, creampie, idk what this is i wrote it in 5 seconds i just needed an excuse to write caleb, not proofread :( ˓˓ WORD COUNT ᨀ 4.9k !

asking the boy you’ve known nearly your entire life to teach you how to have sex isn’t weird, right...? right?

caleb has taught you a lot of things over the years.

he taught you how to drive a car in the shopping mall’s parking lot, how to cheat at card games, how to avoid burning the house down by letting him cook for you instead, how to sneak underneath the turnstiles on the subway to avoid fees.

he’s reliable and sturdy and a little reckless, but also patient and nonjudgmental— creating the idea in your idea that he’s kind of all-knowing, that whenever you don’t know something caleb does, that whenever you need help, you turn to no one else but him. which is precisely why you’re standing outside the door of his bedroom right now, hand lifted to knock on it.

because surely, asking caleb to teach you how to give a blowjob falls somewhere underneath that category too, right?

it’s one of those rare moments when the two of you are off work at the same time. caleb, on annual leave for the next two weeks and you, taking out a handful of unused vacation days to spend time with your favorite person in the world. it’s like old times again, when you can simply walk down the hall and hear his laugh drifting from underneath the door as he plays some stupid video game with college buddies.

thinking of the old days is exactly why you’re hesitating at the door. there’s too much shared history between the two of you, too much to lose if this goes badly, if you’ve been reading him wrong all along and he doesn’t want the same thing. there’s no way you can march in there and ask the boy you were raised with teach you how to—

“door’s open, pipsqueak,” caleb calls, somehow knowing you’re there because of course he does. you used to complain that he must’ve secretly implanted a tracker in your arm because he always knows your whereabouts, which made games like hide and seek with him impossible.

knowing it’s too late to play it off, you walk inside his room, greeted by his devastatingly gorgeous grin. “hey, you. lemme guess— the fridge is empty? no? lightbulb in your room need changing again? huh… or did you just miss me?”

“uh,” you mumble, shifting your toes in the soft carpet of the rug in the middle of his room. “not exactly. i was just wondering if you had time to talk and— … you’re not wearing a shirt.”

you realize how dumb you sound as you point it out, it’s just that your brain short-circuits, turning into a syrupy mess at the sight of caleb without a shirt on, his dog tags resting against bare skin. you’ve seen him like this before, of course— but not since he up and left, gallivanting off into the world to become a hotshot military pilot.

he’s always been nice to look at when you think he isn’t paying attention, but god he’s pretty. your eyes blink almost in disbelief as you take in his broad, muscular form that did not exist while he was a cadet in basic training. your gaze can’t help but snag on the ripple of his abs, or the thatch of brown hair trailing from his navel to disappear beneath his gray sweats. he swivels in his stupid gaming chair, smiling at you with his stupid face—

“uh, yeah?” caleb laughs, forehead creasing in confusion like you shouldn’t be surprised and really, you shouldn’t. caleb is like a furnace, blood running hot even in the middle of winter. “gran’s got the heat turned up to max again. it’s like she wants to kill me.”

“yeah, right,” you shake your head, laughing skittishly. “sorry. i’ve got a fan you can borrow, if you want.”

“thanks,” he says, magenta eyes dragging over your form suspiciously, taking in the way you’re standing in the middle of his room fidgeting like a leaf in the wind, hands white-knuckling the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, knees knocking together all nervous and cute. he frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to give you his full attention in that heart-stuttering way he often does.

“what’s with you? not that i’m not glad to see you, but… did something happen? did someone do something to you?”

“no, no— nothing like that,” you hurry to reassure, voice cracking on the last word as your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, trying to find the words to say what you need to without crashing and burning. swallowing around a lump in your throat, you glance at the paused screen of caleb’s game before blurting out—

“can you teach me how to give a blowjob?”

caleb immediately chokes.

a lesson on what not to do.

the overclocked fans on caleb’s gaming rig whirs in a soft hum, the neon lights in his room flickering crimson streaks over his handsome face in the dark. he wonders if it’s post traumatic stress or prolonged exposure to cosmic radiation in the sky forcing him to hallucinate. obviously, he’s got too many marbles in one jar and not enough in the other because there is no way he’s heard you correctly.

slowly, he removes his headset. “come again?”

“i’m awful at it, ge,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. in fact, you don’t know if you’re awful at it or not because you’ve never tried. you’ve been too busy waiting on the man in front of you to stop torturing you both, but caleb doesn’t need to know that. “you see, i’m dating this guy, right? and we’ve been hitting it off well. i can tell he wants to take it to the next level, but i’ve never… and you— you’re good at everything, so i just thought…”

“thought i would give you lessons,” he finishes for you, his voice deepening to a rougher edge that makes you shiver. “so you can suck your boyfriend better. do i have it right?”

“y-yeah…”

“since when do you even have a boyfriend? you didn’t tell me anything,” he says, doing nothing to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“uh, we’ve… been seeing each other for a couple of weeks?” you fumble, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “i didn’t want to say anything yet. in case it didn’t work out.”

“so you want to learn how to suck dick for a guy you’ve known for a couple of weeks?” he counters, a muscle in his jaw twitching. he’s got no right to feel jealousy, not when he’s wasted so much time attempting to be one thing in your life when you clearly wanted something else. he’s got no right, but the thought of you on your knees for someone else, someone that isn’t him, makes his blood boil enough that he already knows what his answer will be.

however, you’re already backing up towards the door, about to make a quick retreat. your plan was horrible, shame burning your skin like a brand. “what am i saying? oh my god, you’re right it’s stupid and wrong and gross. can we please just forget i even came in here—”

he lets you ramble for an excruciatingly long time, then he pushes out of his gaming chair and grins down at you like you just asked him to make a quick run to the convenience store. he stretches his arms above his head. “let’s do it.”

“w-what?”

you didn’t expect to get this far, honestly. you expected caleb to laugh at you, ruffle your hair, and call you ridiculous. but instead, he’s already striding to his door, thumb flicking the lock with a decisive click. when he turns, his expression makes your breath hitch— those unusual purple eyes molten, staring straight through you.

“first thing’s first, we need to lay down some ground rules, soldier,” caleb tells you playfully, stepping closer until your breasts brush against his midsection. his hand lifts, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “if you need to back out at any moment, you say so. no guy’s pleasure is worth your discomfort. and if i hear his name, whatever it is…” he pauses, eyes narrowing. “this stops. understood?”

you nod eagerly, fighting your smile as his scent envelopes you. he smells like spearmint gum, your shampoo that he’s been stealing since the two of you have been back at the house, and a hint of sweat from the stifling air in the room.

“use your words, pipsqueak.”

“y-yeah, i get it.”

his smirk is all teeth. “good girl.”

caleb guides you over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. his big hands reach for you, circling your hips and pulling you towards him until you’re standing in between his spread thighs.

“alright, my little student,” he jokes. “you wanna get him all riled up before the main event so start with something small like… a kiss,” he murmurs, eyes lifting to glance at your mouth as his finger traces the hinge of your jaw. “you do know how to kiss, don’t you?”

“of course i know how to kiss,” you grumble.

caleb nods and then curls his hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you down to his level. you lean with the pressure, slotting your hands in the junction between his neck and shoulder, sliding them up until you cup the underside of his jaw. then, you’re kissing him— kissing caleb, the boy who used to patch up your scraped knees with cute band-aids, who let you crawl into his bed after nightmares, who pretends he hasn’t thought about kissing you, about making you his, for years.

the kiss is messy, desperate and hungry, decades of pent up feelings behind it. a string of saliva keeps your mouths linked together whenever you pull back for air and when caleb’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you whimper and part your lips to let him in, body melting against his front until your weight’s toppling him back onto his elbows, hitching your leg over his waist to crawl on top of him.

his grip on your waist tightens, gently pushing you to stand once more. “this is feeling less like a lesson, and more like you just wanting to do this with me,” he teases, making heat flare across your cheeks.

caleb guides your hand to the waistband of his sweatpants, the heat radiating through the fabric searing your palm. breath hitching, you begin to sink to the floor in front of him but his hand shoots out to stop your descent with a breathy laugh. “no no no, c’mere. you’re gonna hurt your knees down there.”

backing up, he moves until he’s lounging against the headboard, impossibly long legs stretched out on either side of your sweet figure.

“still wanna do this?” he asks, lifting a brow. when you nod, he continues to speak, voice gravelly, “take it out then.”

your fingers fumble with the drawstring a bit, struggling to undo the military knot caleb’s tied there, but you manage eventually. peeling back the waistband of his sweatpants to free his cock.

you should’ve known it would be just as pretty as the rest of him— it’s the biggest one (the only one) you’ve seen in person. he’s thicker than he is long, flushed dusky pink with veins that make your cunt clench with the desperate need to feel them dragging along your inner walls. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching you reach for it, nearly sobbing when your hand wraps around him.

“fuck—!” his hips jerk and stutter in shock, hand shoving yours away with a quickness. you frown and bite your lip, retracting your grip as if you’ve been burned.

“oh no,” you rush out, moving back to sit on top of your hands like a scolded kindergartener. “did i do something bad? did i hurt you, cal?”

caleb’s chest heaves, breath punching out of his lungs rapidly, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to slow the speed of his heart down. he’s dreamt about you touching him like this for ages, and the image of your dainty hand nervously wrapping around his cock will be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. you crawl back towards him slowly, seriously worried. “caleb?”

“i’m fine, pip,” he sucks in another breath, then opens his eyes to look at you. “didn’t mean to scare you. you didn’t do anything bad, you just surprised me. go ahead, touch me again.”

“if you’re sure,” you mumble, then hesitantly circle your fingers around caleb’s shaft again. he’s ready for it this time, hot against your palm when you give him an experimental squeeze, making caleb hiss through clenched teeth. “how’s that?”

“a bit tighter,” he instructs, palm closing over yours to adjust your grip. you squeeze him tight, and the hitch of his breath makes you squirm, stickiness gathering between your thighs at the sound. “don’t just squeeze, guys like it when you stroke. base to tip— no, don’t yank it like a fucking joystick, pip. god.”

his protest makes you burst out in giggles before caleb is shushing you with a severe look, his purple eyes narrowed. sucking your plump lower lip in between your teeth to keep from smiling, you nod at him with an exaggeratedly focused look.

“wet your palm,” he tells you, rolling his eyes at your wrinkled nose. “getting a handjob from a dry hand hurts, it’s like sandpaper.”

“are you saying i have dry hands, caleb? i moisturize daily, unlike you,” you whine out, but you listen to him anyway— you’re a good student, after all, and you don’t want to do anything that’ll make caleb want to stop. you lick your palm a few times, eyes on caleb the entire time.

the next time you touch him is with a spit-slicked grip, dragging your hand up and down his cock in an inexperienced, sloppy rub that should feel uncomfortable, but caleb eats it up— hips jerking involuntarily, pearls of watery precum already beginning to leak from the slit of his cock. your gaze is transfixed on it, a little greedy too, watching it stain your knuckles with each stroke.

it’s that same greediness that makes you lean down and brush your lips against the head of his cock, cherry tongue lolling out to tentatively taste the salt-bitter precum beading there. caleb’s hips immediately kick upward in a desperate twitch, but he forces them still, knuckles ashen where they reach down to grip the sheets.

“easy,” he rasps, voice fraying at the edges. his thumb strokes your cheek briefly. “just the tip first, okay? don’t go trying to swallow me down or anything.”

you do what he’s taught you so far; flatten your tongue, swirl it around the head— like that, fuck— press it hard against the thick, sensitive vein running along caleb’s underside, then repeat. every time, you’re rewarded with caleb brushing your hair back, murmuring soft praises, or your personal favorite— his deep, almost nasal groan, the hard planes of his abdomen flexing underneath the heady heat of your tongue.

it’s intoxicating, watching him fall apart like this— exactly what you wanted when you walked into his room. you want to pass his class with honors, please him even more, so you drop your mouth open a little more and suck him in deeper.

too deep.

the thick ridge of his head nudges against your uvula, tears springing to your eyes almost immediately. little startled chokes cough from your throat as you pull off caleb’s cock, bands of saliva stringing from his tip to your mouth in a way that should be gross, but you don’t care one bit, too busy trying to catch your breath.

“shh, shh— breathe,” caleb soothes, eyes darkening with something perilously close to reverence and pride. “through your nose, slowly. you can’t force it, that’s why you keep choking. when you’re ready, try again.”

you let caleb thumb away your tears like he’s done countless times before and when you’re ready, when you’ve had enough air to breathe, you let him guide you back onto his damp cock. eager, swollen lips bringing him in against your cheeks in a hot, branding suction that twists his insides up.

he’s supposed to be teaching you, showing you the ropes so you can please your stupid boyfriend, but you barely even need it— god, you’re so good at this without even trying. how can he focus on teaching when he’s got all of his focus pointed towards trying not to shoot his load down the back of your throat like some inconsiderate asshole?

he can barely look down at you because every time he does, your teary eyes glance up at him through thick lashes with an expression that begs for praise. he knows if you didn’t have a mouth stuffed full of his cock, you’d be asking him am i doing it right, ge?

his thighs tremble, eyes lidded as you finally find a steady pace— mouth bobbing up and down, spit bubbling at the base of his cock where you’re starting to make a mess on him.

and when your hands dip down into his sweatpants, cupping his balls in your soft hand, caleb’s vision whites out, his climax rushing to the front at a rapid pace. before he can cum, though, he takes two fingers and pushes at your forehead, hauling you off his cock with a wet slurp. his chest heaves, dripping beads of sweat that glow in the haze of the neon lighting in his room.

he looks wrecked, and you fight your triumphant smile, schooling it into something unsure and pliant, batting your eyelashes. “did i… did i do it wrong?”

“fuck, no,” his chuckle is hoarse and ruined, calloused thumbs swiping spit from your chin as he gazes up at you meaningfully with those hooded eyes. “just don’t wanna cum down your throat.”

“o-oh.”

the implication makes arousal bubble low in your belly, thighs squeezing together in need. caleb tracks the movement, nostrils flaring as he grins knowingly. “yeah, you don’t want that either, do you, pipsqueak?”

for a while, the two of you just stare at each other in disbelief. you don’t know how to tell caleb that you’d take him in any form he’s offering himself in, pining after him long enough that it’s painful. nothing you ever did got his attention, not in the way you truly wanted. he’s protective and possessive in all the right ways, but he’d never make the first move.

he’ll never come out and admit that he wants to spread you out on his bed and fuck you dumb, mark you as his so nobody else can have you. it took you coming to him to even get this far, so you might as well take matters into your own hands once more.

“teach me the rest, ge?”

the rest.

caleb releases a pained groan at your words and you think he’s going to refuse you, but then he’s flipping your positions, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. he makes quick work of his sweatpants, shoving them down the rest of the way. then, he wrestles your panties off your hips and tosses them somewhere across the room.

“look at you,” he whispers, pushing your shirt up— his cock leaking a bead of precum at the sight of your pretty tits. he reaches forward, toying with your puffy nipples, grinning at the sound of your soft whimper.

“c-caleb.”

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy, you get that?” the confession comes out sounding suspiciously like a whine. he gazes down at you like you’re water and he’s a man lost deep in the desert, dying of thirst. “you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. look at these cute tits, just begging for me to touch them. and—”

his big hands sink into the fleshy part of your upper thighs, opening them to get his first exclusive look at your pussy. his thumb parts your folds, spreading one side apart to watch the way your entrance twitches. caleb dips one finger into your cunt and could fucking cry at how warm and tight you feel. “fuck, you’re so wet. is this all ’cause of me?”

“d-don’t look at it so shamelessly, you pervert,” you scold him, squirming back and forth in his hold as you try to snap your thighs shut. “stop teasing me or i’ll hit you. this is embarrassing!”

“why not?” he tilts his head, giving you that boyish grin that makes your heart stop. “after i’m done with you, it’ll be mine anyway. my pretty pussy. my girl.”

you huff and drive your fist into his shoulder before folding your arms over your breasts, lower lip stuck out in an unhappy pout. caleb winces, though mirth still shines amongst the nebulas in his eyes. he leans down to kiss your pout away, chuckling in amusement. “okay, okay, don’t hurt me. i’ll give you what you want.”

and then, he’s wrapping a hand around the base of himself, kissing your clit with the leaking tip of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. he coats himself in your wetness before he finally notches against your entrance and slowly pushes.

the pressure makes air stutter out of your chest, blunt and unyielding. he immediately notices your struggle and drops forward on his elbows, caging you safely in his embrace. he kisses the corners of your eyelids, licking away stray tears.

“i hate hurting you like this,” he whispers in your ear, hips drawing back and crawling forward again. you gasp, eyes falling shut, and he shushes you once more. slides a hand down to play with your clit to distract you, which only makes you clench up around him. his jaw is clenched tight enough to shatter the bone, hand fisted in the sheets next to your head. “shh— relax and let me in. it’ll feel good in a second.”

“i-i don’t know if i can,” you say, trying to force your body to accept him, but when he sinks in those first few inches, you whimper and dig your nails into his biceps. “y-you’re so big, gege.”

“f-fuck, don’t—” caleb grunts and his fingers grip the soft sides of your belly, holding your body to his like a lifeline. “don’t call me that right now. i might cum. i’m gonna put the rest in, okay? be a good girl for me and take it. i-i can’t wait any longer.”

he draws out and presses forward all the way in, burying himself to the hilt inside your sweet pussy. his gaze drops to where you’re split obscenely around him, cunt fluttering in protest at the stretch and a ragged groan tears from his throat. it takes every ounce of willpower the military beat into him not to cream himself right then and there.

“c-caleb!”

you whine as caleb retreats slightly, only to surge back in, fucking a little deeper this time. the weight of his cock stretching you out borders on cruel, but you would die before you ask him to stop, your walls squeezing him in a vice grip. it takes a few trials and errors (“keep your hips down, pipsqueak” and “i don't know, maybe a little to the l— fuck, right there oh my god”) but eventually, caleb builds up a good rhythm, the cool metal of his dog tags pooling in the valley of your breasts as he fucks you with deep, steady strokes; bottoming out each time with a guttural groan.

“fuck— stop clenching so much i’m gonna lose my mind,” his breath scalds your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as he fucks a little faster. “so fucking good. that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good. taking every inch of me like this.”

he’s right, it is so fucking good— no, it’s better. your nails scrape against caleb’s back. shivering at the hot pleasure singeing your nerve endings each time he fucks into you. it doesn’t take long for pressure to gather in your lower belly, a band waiting to snap.

you can’t help but wriggle a hand between the two of your bodies and circle a trembling middle finger around your swollen clit. “nngh, you feel so fucking good, cal.”

“a-are you- god, that’s so hot,” he grunts, glancing down at the way you’re toying with your clit and it turns him on so much he’s speeding up, cock pistoning in and out of you, his thrusts deepening until he’s nearly kissing your cervix, he’s in so deep, your thighs slamming against his hips as you try to close your legs when the head of his cock brushes right up against your sweet spot, creating starbursts behind your eyelids.

“oh god, cal— i-i can’t!”

caleb’s grin is feral, grinding deep to press into that swollen spot inside you relentlessly. “knew i’d find it,” then his fingers joining yours and it’s so much better than your own, two digits rubbing quick circles into your sensitive clit. you’re a babbling mess at this point, the pleasure too much to keep up with. “can you cum for me? can you let me feel it? please? i’ll never ask you for another thing if you give me one right here, right now.”

what are you supposed to do, deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried, not with the heat in your belly full to bursting, needing an escape.

“’m gonna c-cum for you, ge, just for you,” you sob.

caleb has seen many versions of you over the years— grumpy and pillow-marked in the morning with syrup stains on your shirt at the breakfast table, covered in sand and sun-kissed at the beach, screaming at him to do something about the jellyfish sting on your leg, in sleek black dresses at the military balls you attended as his plus one that made all his comrades stop and stare. but you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now. his dog tags between your breasts, your creamy pussy fluttering around his cock, and your pretty face twisted in pleasure as you’re about to cum for him.

he hopes that when he dies, he’ll go out with this image in his brain.

those big doe eyes of yours roll back into your head, hands frantically pushing at his abdomen as if he’s trying to escape the overwhelming friction of his cock. you cum hard, thighs trembling, vision winking out. wet droplets of tears stream down your cheeks as white heat washes over your body, the pleasure bleeding through your limbs like wildfire.

seeing you like this, what is caleb supposed to do? not follow you? he’s been holding his own orgasm back since you barged into his room in one of his shirts, begging to be taught how to suck a cock. there’s no way he can last through seeing— through feeling— you cum around him. his rhythm fractures almost immediately and he knows he’s on thin ice, fraying at the edges.

“gonna cum,” he grits out, voice mangled. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

you don’t waste a second, babbling out the answer desperately, “i-inside, ge, cum inside me. give it to me please i want it so bad i’ll do anything!”

that’s all it takes.

one more sloppy thrust and he cums right after you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you still. he breathes choppy, ruined moans into your neck as he pumps his release deep inside your cunt before he collapses against you, damp chest heaving against yours, giving a few more weak thrusts of his hips as his climax ebbs.

you don’t know how long the two of you lay there, struggling to catch your breaths. you’re satisfied and pliant as putty underneath caleb, unable to move from his heavy embrace. he’s a wall of solid muscle, one that is pressing you into the mattress. “caleb, you’re heavy.”

“gimme a minute here, pipsqueak,” caleb chuckles breathlessly against your sweaty skin, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. “i just had the best sex of my life and can’t catch my breath.”

you begin to smile in pride, but then your eyes narrow as his words register through the fucked out haze clouding your brain. “wait, you were having sex before this?” you ask, jealousy bubbling up in your chest. “was it that one sergeant? the one who kept giving you lovey dovey eyes at the DAA gala?”

“mmm, nope,” he answers almost immediately, kissing your lips quickly to placate you, making your heart swell big and bright for the boy on top of you. “chill. saved myself all this time for you.”

your heart begins racing stupidly fast at that. “sap,” you tease, before an idea pops in your head and you reach for your phone tossed haphazardly on caleb’s bedside table.

caleb’s grip on you tightens as he notices you reach for it, a dark cloud shuttering his loving expression. “what are you doing?” he demands, the venom in his tone startling you a bit. “texting him already? that eager to try out what i just taught you?”

you frown in confusion until you remember the excuse you used upon coming into caleb’s room. wow, the boy you’re in love with is an idiot. giggling, you lean up and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before opening the camera on your phone and snapping a quick selfie of the two of you.

“no, you big dummy, i’m taking a pic of us losing our virginities together so i can add it to our photo album,” you explain simply, grinning. “and there was never any boyfriend, i made him up.”

part.1 part.2

˖ 𑣲 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ma girliiies <333

virgin!nerdjo, ever the diligent student, stumbles upon tutorial on nipple sucking—so what does he do? he goes to the nearest pharmacy and buy a baby bottle to practice on. he got a baddie to please, after all. one who's already let him come inside her by the way and in record time. but also one who's experienced. and he's…well, him.

virgin!nerdjo frowns at the taste the moment he tries it, straight-up plastic. but still, he follows the video instructions step by step, phone in one hand, bottle nipple in his mouth, trying his best to mimic the motions—rewinding it over and over determined to get it right.

but of course, he's super bad at hiding stuff :( so the next time you're in his room you spot it on his desk, half-hidden behind his clutter of notebooks and cables. it's sightly chewed at the tip. and it definitely got your attention. “satoru…is this…yours?”

virgin!nerdjo goes red in seconds—like a cartoon character caught with porn.  “w-what? n-no…” he tries, voice already cracking. you look at him, eyebrows lifted, tilting your head in amusement as a smirk tugs at your lips like you knowevery single embarrassing thought he's ever had. 

he groans in defeat, “yes…it is.” his eyes are glued to the floor, cheeks blazing. he feels like if the ground could just swallow him whole right now, that'd be great. but for some reasons, his mouth had other plans, seems like it can't just shut up for his own good, “there was this video. a bunch of them, actually. about,um…nipple technique.” he stammers, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, eyes still avoiding yours “y'know like…oral stuff. and one of the top comments said it helps to practice on biberon because…it's kind of squishy? and it has resistance…” 

you just stare at virgin!nerdjo, blank and expressionless. he feels so so dump. even dumper than when he cum in two seconds top-chrono in you. “i wanted to do it right!” he blurts, tugging his collar, desperately trying to get himself out of this. “last time i—uh—i lasted like one second. inside you. and you were so nice about it, but i wanna be better. I wanna make you feel good, not just…blow in my pants and cry.”

you walk slowly to him, eyes soft, voice lower. “so you practiced. on a baby bottle.” he nods, mortified. “and did it help?”

“no…it tasted like a melted barbie leg. i almost threw up.”

the next thing virgin!nerdjo knows, you're pushing him onto the bed as you pull off your top—he freezes in place, mouth open, glasses fogging like he's in the middle of a hentai scene he never thought he'd survive. and from where you stand between his thighs, you can see the bulge tenting his pants. poor baby probably got hard just thinking about this moment :(

virgin!nerdjo has his big hands clutching your ass, as your fingers tighten in his white soft hair—pushing his face to one of your nipple. “c'mon, nerd, show me what you've learned.” 

virgin!nerdjo starts so awkwardly. there's too much tongue, too wet and sloppy—his teeth scrape a little too hard and you flinch. “ah—! ‘toru…gentle, you’re not chewing gum.” he recoils instantly, looking like he just failed a final exam. “shit! i'm sorry—i didn't mean to—fuck, i'm such an idiot, i—”

“heyy, baby," you coo, cupping his cheek, brushing his hair from his eyes. "it's okay. try again, would you?” he nods quickly at your words, blinking hard. you swear there are tears building in those pretty blue eyes but you don't have time to think about it as this time he goes slower, sucking tentatively, trying to remember the tutorial steps : tongue flat, lips soft, light suction—add it progressively. he's shaking with focus, sweat dotting his brow as if he's taking an exam worth his entire GPA.

but it seems to work because your whimpers grow louder, virgin!nerdjo's tongue turns messy, fast. he's drooling and panting as his hand clutch to your ass like he might float off the bed. every gasp you make goes straight to his cock. he grinds on your lap helplessly, every moan from you like a five-star rating on his progress. he groans, mouthing at your other nipple, “you taste so much better,” he muffle, tongue flicking on the neglected nipple.

virgin!nerdjo is leaking through his boxers, one hand going to the nipple covered in spit—massaging with his thumb, watching it shine. the other hand drops to your upper thigh, where he humps like a dog in heat.

“you're doing so good, such a good boy, aren't you?” virgin!nerdjo moans your name like a prayer, sucking harder, hips stuttering against your thigh—he's leaking all over himself, so desperate and clumsy.

your sweet virgin nerd couldn't help himself. he had to make a sticky mess in his boxer :(

✩*:.⸝⸝>o<⸝⸝.:*✩

gojo is such a freaky drunk, imagine being out with your group of friends at the club with him. he keeps grabbing your neck and whispering what he wants to do to you. what he wants you to do to him. it’s obvious to everyone in the section what gojo is whispering in your ear. not only is he louder than he thinks he’s being, but your eyes keep fluttering shut, and you keep letting out small moans.

“stop it, toru.” you whisper, pushing his head away. he just smiles at you with glassy red eyes.

“you look so fucking good,” he states, wrapping his huge hand around your neck and bringing your face toward his own. “what? ‘m not allowed to wanna fuck my girl now?” he murmurs in your ear as his hand tightens around your throat. you suck in a sharp breath and bring your own hand to his wrist.

“toru, all our friends are staring at us.” you whimper.

“i don’t give a fuck, i want you. i want you spread across this table. i wanna eat your pussy,” he tightens his grip. “so, so bad.”

your thighs clench underneath the table. satoru looks down and hiccups. “look at ‘er, she wants me to suck her too. wants me to fuck her. put my cock so deep in ‘er it touches ‘er womb. wanna be so deep in you right now, baby, ‘m about to come just thinkin’ about it. feel it,” he grabs the hand holding his wrist and brings it down to his hard cock. “feel how hard i am for you?”

your head is resting on top of his now, and you let out a breathless yes. you don’t care that your friends may be watching the two of you. you just want your boyfriend’s cock now, it’s all you can focus on as he pulls your hand up and down his length and gives you wet kisses all over your neck.

“need this pussy, baby, can’t live without it.”

dedicated to @sukunaslilsocks 🖤

‎‎‎‎THE PRACTICE OF KISSING .𖥔 ݁ ˖

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎𐔌.pairing — geto suguru / reader

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎── word count: 10k

✿ summary... after getting asked on a date you feel insecure over your inexperience regarding kissing someone. telling your bestfriend geto about your concerns results in an offer from him you didn't expect

warnings.ᐟ ── 18+ only, smut, pwp, swearing, making out, dry humping, dirty talk, hickeys, biting, (light) nipple play, praise kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, orgasm denial (once), bsf!geto, virgin!reader, return of tease!geto, afab!reader, no use of pronouns !!

The state of your mind is currently a mess, feeling overwhelmed and staring off into space as you think about how a guy asked you on a date earlier today. You'd turned him down but only because you have a particular hang up you can't get over, hence the feeling overwhelmed. You’ve never gone out on a date before and you feel like you’re missing out, so you definitely would’ve said yes if you weren’t so unsure of yourself.

Geto's hand waves in front of your face, breaking you from your trance, "Are you even listening to me?"

Has he been talking? Damn, you really spaced out, "Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"Not even a little bit," his gaze unamused.

You look away from him and to the poster behind his head on the wall, feeling sheepish, "Then no... sorry."

His frown deepens, legs uncrossing and scooting closer to the edge of his bed, "What are you thinking about so hard?"

"Not telling," you answer, spinning around in his office chair so that you’re facing away from him.

His desk is neat, everything organised and probably put exactly where it should be. Beside his monitor sits a little black cat figurine, one you had bought him not too long ago because it reminded you of him. Seeing it displayed makes you smile; he must like it.

Geto’s voice cuts through your small reverie, "So, you're not only going to ignore me, you're also not going to tell me what's wrong?"

Not even glancing back, you hum at him, "That would be a correct assessment... yes."

"Have I told you that you're annoying yet today?" He exasperates.

Shrugging, "I don't think so?"

"Oh? In that case, you're annoying."

"You're so mean to me; this is why I don't want to tell you what's wrong," you’re being dramatic but so is he.

A sigh leaves him, "If I promise to be nice will you tell me what's wrong?"

Your head flops onto the chairs headrest, jabbing at him jokingly, "I don't know if you're capable of kindness, Suguru."

"Now who's being mean? I'm nice all the time."

"Maybe to strangers..." You mumble out.

There’s no reply from him and for a second you think he’s going to leave the issue alone… that is until you’re suddenly spinning. His footsteps are always so light, you didn’t even hear him come up behind you. You’re facing him now, his hands holding himself up by the arm rests of his office chair. He’d spun you around just to lean down into your space and pointedly look at you.

Geto squints, “I’m nice to you all the time.”

“I don’t think this constitutes as ‘nice’.”

He groans your name, “Come on, you always talk to me when something’s wrong.”

“Maybe this is awkward for me to talk to you about,” you pout back at him.

His tongue clicks in realisation, “So, it’s about your love life?”

The immediate correct guess stumps you, causing you to sputter out, “What!? You have no way of–”

“–You never talk to me about your dates and you also got defensive so I’m guessing I’m right,” his gaze is even, unconcerned.

You huff at him and echo his earlier question, “Have I told you that you’re annoying yet today?”

“Yes, earlier when you almost fell over and I smiled,” he reminds.

Your response is a grimace and a matter-of-fact tone when saying, “I don’t tell you about my dates because I don’t go on them.”

“Ever?” Geto’s eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised by your confession.

Cementing back, “Ever.”

“People have definitely asked you out though.”

“Yeah but not that often because they always think we’re together,” you glare back at him.

A hand reaches for your face and squishes your cheeks between his fingers, “Don’t look at me like that, that’s not my fault.”

Your voice comes out all mumbled and difficult to understand, “It so is.” He rolls his eyes at you and you slap his hand away, “Stop squishing my face!”

Letting go, he sighs and takes a step back, sitting on the edge of the bed again, “Something about your love life is bothering you.”

Crossing your arms over your chest and looking to the side, you complain, “You’re so nosy.”

“Am not.”

What a liar, he’s always in your business. Though, now that you’re thinking about it, you don’t think he’s usually in other people’s business this bad. He does like hearing about the gossip you collect though, always ready to hear it while acting as though he doesn’t care.

There’s no reply you can think to give, so you give him the silent treatment. Still looking away from him and silently pouting, you can feel his eyes watching you, waiting for you to break. It’s a frequent game you start that he finishes, silently ignoring him while he watches and waits until you can’t take it anymore and tell him what’s on your mind.

A few more moments pass by and you already feel ready to give in, you hate how much more effective his silence is. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, your gazes meet and you feel yourself folding all at once.

Large and exasperated groan leaving you as your shoulders slump back into the chair, “Fine!”

He perks up at your concession, a self-satisfied look on his face that irks you.

Looking at him properly to say, “I was asked on a date earlier today.”

The expression on his face changes to one of annoyance, like he’s not happy to hear that, “Who?”

“Some guy, you don’t know him,” you wave off, not really understanding why it matters to him.

Geto prods for more information, “…And what did you say?”

“…I said no.”

“Oh?” His reaction is indecipherable to you, “Why?”

This question is exactly why you didn’t want to talk about this, “I don’t know…” You’re lying, trying to avoid talking about this in more depth.

“Did you like him?”

“I didn’t not like him,” you shrug, “I would’ve liked to go out with him at least once but…”

“But…” He pushes.

“I don’t know, Suguru,” you scowl at your own reasoning, “I’ve never been on a proper date before, I don’t know what to expect or what’s expected of me. What if he wanted to kiss me or something?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, making you antsy while you wait for him to talk, “…Would you want to kiss him back?”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t think I’m understanding the issue,” his brows are pinched with his confusion.

You’re exhausted with him, like you aren’t the one being purposefully cryptic, “Am I gonna have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh!” You kick your legs in a mini tantrum, “I’ve never properly kissed someone… it’s always been like… a peck, I don’t know? But what if he expected more of me?”

You can see the way he’s actively fighting against the smile threatening to break out on his face, “Is that–” he bites down an amused sound, “Is that why you always say no to dates?”

“I don’t like you very much right now,” you were already feeling silly and embarrassed and his clear joy from this is not helping that.

He pouts at you mockingly, “Don’t be like that, I can help.”

“How could you possibly help me with this?”

A smile comfortable on his face when he states, “I could teach you.”

“You want to teach me how to kiss?” You scrutinise him, “Have you gone insane?”

“You’re the one all hung up on this and I’m offering to help you,” he puts his hands up, “But if you’d rather be a dateless loser for the rest of your life–”

“–Hey!” You point at him, “Uncalled for… and rude!”

A very signature and very annoying, polite smile sits on his pretty features. Unbothered by your outburst at his very clear bait. He simply raises his arm and grabs the hand you had pointed at him, tugging you from the chair and into him on the bed. You’re taken aback by his bold move, so close to him so quickly. Falling into his lap less than gracefully, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady as you sit sideways between his legs.

You stutter out at him, “Wha– what are you doing?”

Letting go of your hand; he reaches for your face. His thumb stroking softly against your cheekbone, “Do you want my help or not?”

“What you’re basically asking me is if I want to kiss you,” you correct… because that is what he’s asking right now.

Geto’s head drops back slightly as he fights the urge to roll his eyes at you dramatically, hand resting on your outer thigh now, “Don’t be so pedantic. You have a problem and I’m offering to help fix it.”

A sound of disapproval slips from you at his wording, “I know the theory behind kissing someone, Suguru. What you’re offering is making out with me.”

“So?”

Your expression is dumbfounded, you know he’s not this dense, “You want to stick your tongue in my mouth and then go back to the usual?”

He leans in again, dodging your question with his own, “Do you want me to stick my tongue in your mouth?”

“Geto–”

“–Ouch–”

“–Shut up.” You cut him off, “If! We did this and I do mean if. Would you be able to look at me the same?”

“The same as I always have? Sure,” there’s no hesitation from him.

He seems so sure, like he’s not worried about what this might mean for your friendship at all. The easy-going look on his face is both pissing you off and relaxing you, emotions he’s always been able to pull from you.

His hand is large on your thigh and the way it makes you feel is not how you should feel for him. Mumbling out a small, “You’re annoying.”

An amused breath leaves him, “You’ve already told me that today.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you look up at him through your lashes.

“That’s kind of the point of this.”

“Right…” You can’t help but find yourself feeling nervous, embarrassed that you won’t be good enough. For some reason… you really want him to think you’re a good kisser.

He must take your silence as rejection because his tone is gentle when he says, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I know, I just…” You frown while looking at him, trying to figure out exactly what steps to take next, “I don’t know what to do now…” Geto’s face relaxes and a smile replaces his concern causing you to chastise him, “Don’t smile, it’s not funny!”

“No,” he agrees, “But it is a little cute.”

“Whatever, can we just kiss now?”

“Desperate?” He asks teasingly.

You deny it, “I just want you to stop talking.”

“Sure.” It’s all dragged out and has a teasing lilt to it. Damn him and his need to have the last word. You don’t reply to that and instead try to shuffle off him, thinking sitting like this would be awkward. His hold becomes firmer on you, “What are you doing?”

You’re confused, “Isn’t this position weird?”

“Makes it easier,” is all he says in reply.

Being sat between his spread legs, your own draping over one of them while he holds you doesn’t seem ideal. To you, this couldn’t be a more awkward position to be in for this. Instead of telling him that though, you settle back, “Alright…”

When you look back up at him properly, he’s already looking at you. There’s a funny feeling that runs through you at the look in his eyes. The hand on your thigh moves to your face again, cradling you as he leans in. Murmuring a soft, “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

Just as he’s about to move all the way in, your hand covers his mouth, “Wait.” You stop him, your nerves getting the better of you, “What if… what if you don’t like kissing me?” He looks a little frustrated so you pull your hand away, giving him a chance to speak.

“Do you want me to like kissing you?”

You feel flustered by his question, “Why do you always answer my questions with a question?”

“Because your questions are interesting…” he pauses, “…And also, I like teasing you.”

“If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

“Fine,” he indulges you, “I’m not gonna dislike kissing you so your question is dumb.”

“But you can’t know–”

He tuts you, interrupting what you were saying, “–You gotta answer my question now.”

You groan at him, “Well… yeah.”

“‘Yeah’ what?”

He’s such a smug bastard, “Yeah! Yeah I want you to like kissing me, Suguru.”

You’re huffy but he seems so pleased by your response. A serene and happy look on his face despite the tone you used. You find yourself waiting for him to say something more, something to tease you further but he doesn’t. He simply leans in again, taking you by surprise when his lips are softly pressing to yours. It’s short and sweet, more akin to a peck than anything else. Continuing to plant gentle kisses to your lips until you return them and then he lets them linger.

The feelings that run through you have you all tingly and hot, kissing your best friend for practice probably shouldn’t feel this good… right? You still don’t really know what you’re doing though, more just letting him kiss you than anything. When you part again, you murmur, “Suguru, I still don’t know what I’m meant to be doing.”

“Just follow my lead,” his eyes stay on your lips, now shiny from the shared kisses, “That’s all you gotta do.”

“But–”

His eyes roll when you go to argue more, “–Stop thinking so hard about it and let me kiss you.”

You can’t help but squirm slightly at that, “Okay.”

Satisfaction rolls off him in waves but thankfully for you he doesn’t comment any further, choosing to kiss you again. Instinctually, your hand reaches for his chest and grips onto his shirt, you need something to ground you.

Geto is taking this slow, he’s trying his best to be patient to savour this moment with you. He doesn’t want to push you too far too soon and have you stop whatever this is. If he were more sure of himself and where he stands with you, he’d have just asked you out like a sane person but he’s not sure and he didn’t want to pass on this opportunity.

He can feel this becoming something he covets, your soft lips on his, uncertain in your movements but so ready to be kissed by him. His heart pulls with a kind of possessiveness that’s not completely unfamiliar to him regarding you. The desire to not want anyone else to ever have this side of you overwhelming him.

It’s addictive, his kisses, his hold on you… him. You can feel yourself falling into him more, the longer you do this dance. You want more, you want him to kiss you more but you have no idea how to ask for that. Following his lead is good, it’s helpful but it’s starting to feel like he’s depriving you.

Pulling back, you force yourself to voice, “I want more…”

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” He sounds strained.

“You said you would teach me,” you remind. “So, teach me.”

His thumb presses into your jaw, “Open your mouth more then.”

Doing as he asks; he angles you just slightly before pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss fuller, his tongue licking into your mouth. It has a shiver running down your spine, the sensation new and mind numbing. It’s messier than before and so much more dizzying, you can’t even really keep up with his movements. Just letting him kiss you to his hearts content, feeling yourself getting drunk on his lips in the process.

You can’t even be sure if you’re doing this right but it doesn’t really feel like it matters, not when you’re this lost in it. Lips gliding against his, a small involuntary sound pulling from your chest at how he grips you tighter. Feeling like he gets impossibly closer, his kisses growing desperate the moment you whine into him.

Geto’s restraint is wearing thin, his desire for you growing tenfold at how you moan for him. He wants to touch you so much more, to put his hands on every part of you. The fear of ruining this moment keeps his hands planted firmly to your hip and cheek though and it’s killing him to not touch you more, more, more.

When you tentatively lick against his tongue he almost all but folds in that single moment, he feels so pathetically weak for you. So unsure of yourself and still trying to kiss him just as deeply as he is you. A guttural groan leaves him, a sound he’d be almost ashamed of if he didn’t notice the way you squirm at it.

You pull back from him and he can’t help but chase your lips, he doesn’t want to stop. An amused breath leaves you, “Hold on.”

He doesn’t understand what you need a moment for until you’re pulling his hands from you and moving to straddle him.  Your thighs resting beside him, he feels dizzy with need, the need to touch you, to undress you. To have you naked and straddling his lap just like this could make his whole year. His hands are on your hips, tugging you up his lap just slightly further, encouraging.

Going to sit on him, you notice his erection and gasp. Heat rising to your face, suddenly so conscious of how heated this exchange has gotten, “Maybe we should stop…”

It’s almost like it hurts him to hear those words, “Do you want to stop?”

You wish you weren’t so certain, so quick to immediately know that, “… No, I don’t.”

“That’s good…” he smiles, “Cause I’m not done teaching yet.”

And then you’re kissing again, wet and sloppy. He’s holding back less, depraved in how he sucks your tongue into his mouth, bolder now. Revelling in every twitch you make against him, every mumbled whine you let out.

Mindlessly, your hips lightly roll downwards and his resulting grip holds you so still against him. A debauched moan leaving him at your unexpected movements, parting his mouth from yours with it. Geto’s head tucks into your chest, controlling his breathing, like he might snap at any moment.

You feel a little frantic, like you might’ve hurt him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“–Don’t– fuck– don’t apologise,” he can feel how warm you are through your pants and it’s making him feel feral.

Your fingers run through his hair, to comfort him, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” He huffs an unamused sound, “The only thing hurting me is how badly I wanna stuff you full.”

“Sugu–”

“–I know you can feel just how hard I am,” he pulls his head back to look at you, eyes blown wide and dark, “I’m practically aching for you.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, “Suguru… are you some kind of closeted perv?”

The question makes him laugh, “Wanna find out?”

“You were only supposed to teach me how to kiss…”

“Mhm, and you’re doing great,” his nose traces along your neck, inhaling you, “I still have so much more knowledge to give though.”

“Don’t be so– hah!” He licks at your skin before latching his mouth to the side of your throat, the pressure making you fidget in his lap. You feel so sensitive, so much more than what you thought you would.

When Geto pulls back from the mark he’s made, he blows softly on it, enjoying the way you shudder on top of him. “‘Don’t be so’ what?”

That’s right you were going to say something, he looks really nice right now though… eyes lidded and cheeks just slightly pink, lips slick. What were you going to say to him? His grin only grows, taking satisfaction in your glazed eyes and struggle to think. Averting your gaze, you try to remember what you wanted to say. The break in eye contact short lived since he grabs your chin and pulls you back.

“Come on, pretty, what were you gonna say?”

The effect he’s having on you is becoming too much, “I was gonna tell you to not be so depraved!”

“Hmm…” His head quirks at you, “You seem to like it though?”

How presumptuous of him, “You can’t know that!”

“You know… the human body is really interesting, for example…” he looks down to where you’re sitting over his prominent erection, “You’re so incredibly hot against me that I feel like I’m going insane,” smiling back up at you evilly, “Just how wet are you?”

The possibility of fainting is very real all of a sudden, his question has you hot everywhere. “I jus– I just told you to not be so depraved.”

“Yeah and I ignored you,” he deadpans, ignoring your indignant sounds. “Do you want me to stop?”

Again, you hate how badly you don’t want to stop. Right now, you think you’d let him do just about whatever he wanted to you. “Promise not to tease me later?”

“You know I can’t promise that.”

You pout back at him, “Then I’m not gonna say what I was thinking.”

His curiosity is sufficiently piqued, “Fine, I promise to try not to tease you later.”

“That’s not good enough.”

He tries again, “I promise.” You both stay looking at one another for a moment before he adds, “That’s as good as you’re getting.” And you know it to be true.

How to say this without embarrassing yourself, “You can… you can touch me… however you want, Suguru…”

He feels like he’s gone into shock, “What?”

“Did you not hear me?”

“No… I heard you,” he can’t help the way his cock jumps in excitement, “I’m just double checking I heard you right.” He leans in to taunt, “You’re gonna let me touch you however I want?”

“You said you had more knowledge to share,” It’s a dangerous game that you’re both playing.

He breathes out, “And if I wanna touch you in a depraved manner?”

So certain in yourself when you reply, “I want to be touched in a depraved manner… by you.”

Ah, so you’re trying to kill him, is the conclusion that Geto has come to. A breathless laugh leaves him, “For practice?”

“Sure,” you give him the answer you think he wants, in reality you just want to desperately be touched by him. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life and it’s all his fault.

An amused sound leaves him, “Hah– Don’t know if I believe your answer there…” his hands are on your hips, slowly dragging you over his dick. Biting his lip at the feeling, cock jumping when your breath stutters.

“Wait– wait,” your hands hold onto his and he stops moving you. Realising now that he might’ve gotten carried away, that he should’ve double checked again.

When you get off his lap and onto shaky legs Geto feels his heart drop, only for it to suddenly pick up speed when you’re shuffling your pants down and off. Crawling back onto him in your panties, he – shamefully – has to put so much focus into keeping calm, so worked up he could cum from this alone.

“Yeah…” you murmur back at him, placing yourself right over his erection again, gasping at how hard he is, at how much more you can feel even through the layers left on, “I lied just now.”

He wants to ask more; he wants to know what you lied about but if he thought you were hot before then he’s melting now. You’re sitting on his dick in the cutest little panties, already so drenched from making out with him that the affection he feels for you fills up his chest. He’s way too distracted right now to ask what he wants.

“Be honest,” it feels like a chore to rip his gaze away from your pussy, “Are you trying to kill me?”

Geto’s eyes are all glassy and blown, cheeks flushed as he implores you, like he’s worried you’re actually trying to kill him. He’s making you feel shy, “It’s your fault I’m acting like this.”

That has him feeling a little prideful, “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you confirm.

“In that case,” he’s slowly dragging your heated core over his erection again, “Should I fix it?”

You nod your head at him, “…Yeah”

The shivers that run through you make you gasp, the drag over Geto’s dick feeling so much better without your pants on. And yet you can’t help but feel so greedy, a kind of need in your bones that you’ve not experienced before.

He takes his hands away from your hips and you stop moving, whining pathetically at him, “Why–”

“–Keep doing it yourself,” he encourages.

“But–”

“Just do it how it feels good, use me for a bit,” he grins, “I wanna watch you pleasure yourself on me.”

“You really are a perv,” you mutter back at him.

His retort is quick, “Say that to me when your pussy’s not drooling all over my pants.”

Your cunt jumps at his words, “Are you gonna be this crude the whole time?”

“I can be worse if you want?”

“I can’t stand you.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he looks pointedly down to where your cunt is pulsing hot against him. “Now do us both a favour and move,” he hisses out through clenched teeth, apparently nearing his limit.

“You’re so bossy,” you frown, “I’ve never…” You’re at a loss for how to phrase it.

“Dry humped someone before?” He finishes for you, “Though with how wet you are–”

“Shh!” You cover his mouth with your palm, “Stop… talking about how wet I am.”

He pulls your hand away, “You know, I’m not surprised you’ve never–”

“–You don’t have to say it again,” you cut him off.

He rolls his eyes, “You hadn’t even made out with someone, I’m just saying that I didn’t ask you to use me without knowing.” He holds the side of your face gently, “Stop worrying about it so much, I know already… that you’re a huge virgin.”

His gentle touch greatly contrasts his teasing words. He’s so evil to you, “This is why I say you’re not nice.”

“Do you want me to be nice? To tell you how pretty you are and how good of a job you’re doing?” The reaction you have is almost visceral, skin heating and looking away from him. Even more embarrassed when he chuckles at you, “Got a bit of a praise kink, hmm?”

“You’re making this difficult for me.”

“You should’ve just done what I asked then,” he shrugs easily.

If you thought holding out would punish him more than you, then maybe you’d just get off him and go home to get yourself off but you want him to make you feel good. So instead, you’ll just give in and hope he shows you mercy, though by how this is going, he doesn’t seem to be the type.

Experimentally, you roll your hips down into Geto and he huffs out a breath like he wasn’t expecting it. Your hands move to his shoulders for purchase, using the leverage you have there to grind down into him harder.

He holds onto your waist. Not moving you, just resting his hands there, “Oh fuck– no– hah– no warning?”

You shake your head at him, brows pinched as you focus on seeking your own pleasure, “You– hnn– wanted me to– hah– to do as you asked.”

His head falls back slightly at the pleasure, a lazy smile on his face, “That’s true.”

The longer you do this, the slicker his pants get, you’re so unbelievably wet that it’s coating the material obscenely. Geto is in awe of it, eyes fixed on where you’re rutting down into him, marvelling at the damp spot on his pants, at how drenched your panties are. So soaked that they’re practically a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination with how it’s sticking to you.

He holds you still suddenly and the whine you let out is endearing, “Wait for a second,” he huffs.

Moving his hands to his belt to undo it, shuffling his pants down his legs. You lean up on your knees for a moment for him to drop them to his feet but before you can sit back down, his hand is holding you there. He runs the fingers of his other hand through your covered folds, a groan coming from the back of Geto’s throat.

“Seriously, you’re so fucking wet,” he reminds you.

“Sorry…”

He almost chokes, “‘Sorry?’” His fingers draw up to your clit, pressing into it, “Don’t be fucking sorry… I’m nearly salivating because of how drenched you are.”

That catches you off guard, “Sugu–”

He doesn’t let you speak, “–This wet because of me? It’s my fault you said?”

You bite your lip, his fingers circling your clit deliciously, “Mhm.”

His eyes brighten, “Perfect. Aren’t you just perfect for me?”

Your legs start shaking and he lets you drop back to his lap, one less layer between the two of you now. He’s so warm and hard and if you weren’t straddling him, you’d be clenching your thighs together for relief.  

“You are doing such a good job for me,” he whispers low against your ear, “Having the most perfect reactions.”

You whine at his praise, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Yeah,” he licks against your ear, “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

His size is honestly daunting, large and thick as you sit on it, throbbing underneath you. “Suguru?”

He noses at your cheekbone, “Mmm?”

“I’m worried…”

“About?”

“What if you don’t fit…” you look down to his lap, “I just mean, you feel…big.”

“I don’t have to put it in you,” he comforts but he can’t help the way he twitches at your genuine concern over taking him.

“But you want to?”

“What sort of a question is that?” he holds you down while he grind up into you, “Does it feel like I want to?”

“I was jus– ah!– I was just checking,” you sulk back.

Your mind melts, getting away from you. He’s rutting up into you in a way that has you shaking and your breaths stuttering. On edge for so long while sat in his lap, you want to meet his grinds, you want to move your hips into him but his grip is firm and steady.

It’s honestly a little pitiful how quickly he’s building you up, your insides clenching with the pleasure. The drag back and forth on his clothed cock driving you slowly to insanity. His boxers almost as ruined as your panties, your slick coating his covered dick. The glide much smoother than what you’d expect. It’s like you can feel him throbbing for you and it makes you want to fully take him even more.

Your own thoughts riling you up, the idea of him sitting so heavily inside you makes you huff out a whine. A sound that Geto relishes in, in fact, he’s relishing in all of this. You’re so malleable to his will, he thinks in this state, you’d let him do whatever he pleases. The thought alone nearly has his eyes rolling.

He needs you to cum like this, he needs to see it. How you shake and writhe on top of him, the expression you make. He wants to make you cum in so many different ways just to see how your expressions might differ each time.

It’s relentless, how he humps up into you, how he pulls you down into him. Your clit catching on the tip of his dick making you jump each time, shocks of pleasure running through you. You never thought something like this would feel so damn good.

Fingers grappling at the material of his shirt, pleasure wracking your body as he draws you closer and closer, “Stop– ah!– if you keep going I’ll– hnn–”

“–So soon?” he hums, “I don’t know if– hah– I believe you… you’re gonna have to prove it,” he leers back at you.

His eyes on you feel so consuming, calm and watching but so hungry that it’s driving you to the edge. It feels like you’re melting, so warm and unbelievably close. Body twitching on top of him with your impending orgasm. You don’t even get to try and warn him again, sounds you’ve never heard yourself make falling from your mouth before you can think to stop them. Trembling with the force of your orgasm, feeling so weak as you slump into him, eyes wet and bleary.

Geto feels like he’s vibrating, watching you come undone on top of him making him feel too much at once. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, hands smoothing up and down your back. Lips close to your ear when he speaks, “You know… you make some really cute noises when you cum.”

Lazily, you look up at him through your lashes. Feeling a stupid kind of pleasure running through your body, still jolting slightly with the come down. “Stop trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m only being honest,” his hands slip under your shirt, groping your waist, “You getting embarrassed is just a bonus.”

“Have you always been this sadistic?”

He leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Who knows?” He smiles.

Turning, you catch his mouth with yours. Kissing him properly, hands tickling the back of his neck as you try to kiss him like he did you earlier. His hands on your waist grip you, lips imploring. So needy in how he returns your kiss, all but whining when you part. A string of saliva connects your mouths and he wipes your lower lip with his thumb, pressing it to your lips like he might push it inside.

Eyes lost as he dances his digit over your plush lips, “You’re beautiful,” is all he says, gazing at you with so much affection.

Opening your mouth, you gently take his thumb between your teeth. Biting so very lightly before flicking your tongue over the tip of it. Geto looks like he blushes at the action, pulling his hand back.

“Seems as though I’m not the only tease,” he accuses.

You mutter back at him, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His compliment had made you feel so soft and tingly that you didn’t know what to say or how to react. It’s not like he’s never complimented you before, you just weren’t expecting him to call you beautiful so earnestly. Being given compliments by someone has never made your insides flutter as much as they did just now.

He hums at you, redirecting his attention. Pulling at the hem of your shirt to show what he wants; you lift your arms up so he can remove it from you properly. Feeling so bare on top of him but not really minding, still too blissed on your orgasm to care.

Geto doesn’t waste any time, groping your tits in his large hands. Rolling your nipples experimentally and grinning wide at how you twitch and bite back moans at it. “My, you’re sensitive.”

Teeth digging into your lower lip to stop the pitiful noises he’s threatening to pull from you, “Try not to sound so pleased about that.” Your blood is still thumping through your ears, pleasure fresh in your bones.

“Would you rather I be upset?”

“I’d rather you not make– ah!–”

His wet mouth wrapping around your nipple has your words cutting off suddenly, back arching into him. Huffing out breaths at how he flicks his tongue over your sensitive skin, dizzy from the heat he’s making you feel. Pulling back with an obscene pop, licking at you a final time while keeping eye contact before swapping to your neglected tit.

He’s playing with you, or he’s waiting for you to say you’re ready for more… no he’s definitely just playing with you. Taking his time leaving marks all over your tits, even biting some places. Neglecting himself in favour of teasing you to insanity, though it can’t be that painful for him considering how he’s enjoying this immensely.

Whining at him, “You– hah!– You’re gonna leave too many marks,” he ignores you in favour of making a new mark to the top of your breast, “Suguru!”

Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull him back with a tug. You’re frowning at him but your eyes are so wet and dazed and you’re nearly completely naked on top of him. Covered in hickeys and his saliva, despite your pulled brows you look so euphoric.

Feigning ignorance, he simpers, “What’s wrong with that?” A finger trails over the marks he’s left, grazing a sensitive nipple in his journey, “You seemed to liked it.”

Swallowing your pride, you tell him directly, “I want more.”

“You want to cum again?” He muses, “Greedy.”

Taking offence at his accurate guess, you add, “I want… you to as well.”

Geto ignores the thumping of his heart, “Take off your panties then.”

“But…”

A brow raises at you, “‘But’ what?”

You don’t really want to tell him about how shaky your legs are, you’re a little concerned they’ll give out as soon as you try to stand. He really doesn’t need the ego boost right now, “Nothing.”

Moving off him so so carefully, you keep your hands on his shoulders as you stand between his spread legs. With the way your knees are wobbling and fingers gripping to him so harshly, it doesn’t take him long to figure out that you’ve not really got a great sense of balance right now. A smug smile gracing his lips when he sees you fight to figure out how you’re going to take off your panties with your hands on him.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” You quickly answer.

“Then take them off,” a finger pulls at the waistline of your underwear only to let it snap back to you. At your continued struggle he adds, “Or do you want me to take them off for you?”

You look to him, eyes hopeful for mercy, “Please?”

“Sure,” his tone polite but you’re not sure you’re that trusting of him.

Thankfully, his hands slide them delicately down your legs, brushing against your thighs. Though, he’s an opportunist and he uses this chance to grip at your thighs, pulling at your skin further and further up your legs. Humming low to himself at the slick coating your inner thighs, unable to help himself when he drags his fingers through your folds, touching your pussy directly.

“Fuck, alright–” He bites out, pulling you to his lap suddenly, “I’ve reached my limit.”

“Wait,” he stops his frantic movements and you pull at his shirt, “Take it off.”

He doesn’t even tease, just immediately does as you asked, hastily tugging his shirt off. It’s dropped less than gracefully onto the floor. Your fingers dance along his shoulders, down his chest. You want to take it all in a bit more but he’s flopping onto his back and shucking his boxers down enough to pull his cock free.

The size of him almost has your eyes bulging, you wonder how he’s been so patient when he’s this hard and achy looking. Tip flushed deep pink and already smothered in his own leaky precum, your cunt throbs while looking at him. Caught between concern over his size and a desperate need to be full of him.

“You don’t have to take it but please just–” He grabs and moves you until you’re hovering over it, “Sit on it at least.”

Lowering yourself cautiously, you sit on him lightly. He can feel your heat and it makes him shiver, “I don’t need you to be gentle with me,” he snickers, “Split your pussy open on my dick.”

Geto doesn’t even give you the chance to do it yourself, hands tugging you down onto him with more force. A gasp ripping from you when he immediately starts dragging you back and forth on his whole length. Stifled groans leave him from under you, his chest vibrating under your palm.

“Sugu–”

“–Sorry,” his brows are knitted together, “I got– nnh– impatient.”

It’s so wet, slipping over him repeatedly, the head of his cock nudging your clit over every pass. Your teeth dig into your lower lip to fight the whines bubbling inside you but eventually you give up and just let yourself moan. He seems to like it anyways, cock jerking at the soft breaths and whimpers leaving you.

He’s on the brink of stupidity, you’re so soft and unbelievably warm and his tip keeps catching on your hole and it makes him shudder each time. Looking down, he watches the way you’re coating his cock in more of your slick, cock shiny with how wet you are. Lewd sounds of your pussy grinding over him fill the room and now he’s thinking about you creaming around him. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life.

“Sugu,” you call out to him and he dopily pulls his eyes to yours, “Do you think I could just…” when his cockhead catches on your hole again, you press down, not even taking him in any real way and yet still stretching slightly for it.

His grip hardens on you, holding you completely still, “There’s no ‘just’ anything.” He struggles to breath out evenly, “Not with how tight you are.”

“I wanna feel full though,” you try wiggling down into him but he’s truly got you in a vice like hold.

His cock twitches as excitement rushes through him, “You asking me to take your virginity, pretty?”

Shy when you ask, “Would you?”

He’s not passing on the chance to pick on you a little bit, “How bad do you want it?”

He can feel the way your hole flutters when you think about his question, your answer seemingly downplaying how you feel, “Pretty bad.”

“Hmm,” He pretends to think about his answer.

You’re taking issue with his faux deep thought, “Sugu, stop acting like you’re not…”

“Go on,” he encourages, “‘Like I’m not’ what?”

“Like you’re not…” you look away from him, mumbling out, “Aching for it…”

“Oh? You aching for it?” The smile he’s wearing can be heard in his words.

He sounds way too gleeful over this and it’s ticking you off, “Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ as you lift yourself off him.

“Don’t be like that,” he sits up, “I’m not letting you go anywhere… not when I know you’re aching for my cock.”

“I did not say that.”

“That’s what I heard you say,” he shrugs.

Geto’s arms wrap around you only to throw you down onto the bed, gone from you for a second while he shoves his boxers off quickly. And then he’s crawling over you, hands tracing up your body, relishing in your reactions to him.

“You really are so sensitive,” he mutters, trailing a finger up your thigh and watching your skin break out in goosebumps.

He’s being so unbearable, the need you feel is so loud and he’s here taunting you, “You’re so frustrating.”

“You’re just a needy little thing,” he returns, “So desperate to be filled even though you’re not prepared in the slightest.”

“Then prepare me,” you whine back.

He finds this about you cute, your insatiable greed, your back and forth between shy and so horny that you’re getting pissy at him. “I should teach you some manners,” he grumbles.

You spread your legs for him obscenely, growing even more impatient. “Please, touch me,” you pull his hand towards your pussy, “please.”

If he ever gets the chance to touch you like this again he’s going to torture you because right now you’re playing so completely unfairly that he can’t even think to deny you. His brows pull up as he flushes, finding himself doing exactly what you wanted, fingers gliding through your folds.

The way you keen at his touch almost makes it worth it. “You don’t play fair,” he complains.

“Someone lead by– hah!– po– poor example, I guess,” you shudder when he slips a single finger inside you.

Geto groans at the snug heat of your cunt, closing his eyes to take a quick breath at just how you feel wrapped around his digit. The fear or cumming the minute he gets inside you is real; he’s going to have to develop an insane amount of self-restraint between then and now.

“You’re hilarious,” he leans down to whisper in your hear, “Now shhh…” He draws his finger back before fucking it back in, lewd wet sounds of your pussy filling the silence, “Hear that?” He keeps repeating his movements, taking immense joy in how you writhe under him, “I think… pretty things that are this wet and begging to get fucked… don’t get to mock me.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, eyes glassy when you look up at him, “Don’t– nnh– be sooo mean.”

“You haven’t seen me be mean,” he pulls his finger back just to stuff another inside you, grinning when you arch your back at it, “I’ve only been nice to you today.”

“Be nicer,” you pout.

“Don’t wanna be,” he smiles graciously back at you.

The fingers he has in you scissor to spread you open, pleased hums leaving him at your responses. Your mouth drops open and legs shake, fighting to close but unable to with how he’s in-between them. He’s hitting all the perfect spots inside you, crooking his digits to rub against your inner walls in a way you’re never able to reach.

He’s getting you so close to cumming that you want to hide from him, somehow feeling so much more vulnerable like this than when you were sitting in his lap earlier. Slowly, he works you to the point of taking another of his fingers, fucked open on three of them now. Your toes curl and your thighs hoist themselves on either side of his waist. Hips grinding into his hand, meeting his movements.

Geto finds the frenzied and desperate grinds into his hand adorable, satisfied with just how much more greedy you get when you’re this turned on. He already knows you must be close, your sudden drive to fuck down onto his fingers a dead giveaway to him.

He adds his thumb, rubbing circles into your clit. You jerk at it, tits bouncing in a way that has him drooling. To be honest, if you weren’t practically begging to get dicked down earlier he would’ve put his mouth on you. Maybe if he weren’t also desperate to put his cock in you he’d do it anyways but for now, he’ll settle for fingerfucking you to insanity and then shoving you full of his dick.

Your voice comes out smaller than you want, “Sugu, I think–”

“–I know,” his eyes are bright, fully aware of how close you are.

He can feel the way you twitch and clench down on him, back arching off the bed. Speeding up his movements just to get you there that much quicker and when you’re about to cum all over his fingers… he pulls them from you. Leaving you without your orgasm but so high that he could blow on your clit and you might cum.

You whine at him, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Expression dopey and angry, sexually frustrated from the cruel and unexpected edging he just put you through. “What the hell, Suguru?!”

His grin is wolfish, merciless expression painted over with faux pity, “I’m so sorry, pretty. Were you close?” A hand cradles your face, soothing you for something that is completely his fault.

“Why would you do that?” All he’s succeeded in is making you needier than before, squirming under him with no way to find relief.

His answer is simple, “Just to see how you’d react.”

“I shouldn’t have hung out with you today.”

“Don’t be like that,” he guides his dick to your cunt, “I’m ‘bout to treat you so good.”

“If you don’t let me cum we’re not friends anymore,” you warn.

He snickers at how genuine you’re being, “Alright.”

“I mean it, Suguru.”

“I know you do,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “That’s why it’s a little tempting.”

You whine at him, “Can you stop being so cruel for a moment?”

He blinks at you, “What do I get if I do?”

“What do you want?”

“I want to be the first person you go on a date with.”

His request confuses you, “What? Why?”

He doesn’t answer you, “Those are my terms,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Okay! Fine, yes, whatever you want,” you nod at him.

He smiles and starts pushing into you, the stretch is a lot and it aches more than his fingers. You’re trying to breathe through it but it seems like he is too. His thumb is on your clit, trying to get you to relax for him. “St– stop– hah– fuck!– stop clenching so tight,” he hisses through his teeth.

“I can’t– nnh– help it,” your nails dig into his skin.

His lashes flutter when he gets his tip inside you, groan leaving him. “Wh– when I s–say date I mean– hnnn– a real date. A ‘I take you out and then try kissing you at the end of it’ date.”

For some reason, that makes your insides twist and you squirm. “Wh– whatever you– nnh– want, Sugu.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna– hah– dress up and let me take you out for your first ever date?” His fingers grip at his blanket below.

Your eyes roll as he slips further inside you, babbling out, “If you– hnn– let me cum? I’ll date only you.”

Geto sputters at that, hips driving forwards on their own making you both moan. His upper body drops down to you, lips ghosting over your neck and cheek before taking yours in a sweet kiss. He knows you’re out of your mind horny and probably not even sure of what you just said but he’s going to live in this moment while he fucks you.

He’s kissing your breath away while he slowly fills you to the hilt, trying so hard to be careful with you. His lips successfully distract you from the ache you were feeling, melting into him as he licks at your tongue.

Parting from you only when he’s balls deep inside you, head flopping to your shoulder as he moans. Struggling to keep it together, you’re wrapped so snug and hot around him, pulsing so tightly around his aching cock that he feels like he might cum at any second.

“Sugu?” When he hums, you continue, “Move please?”

You wiggle your hips into him but he’s quick to stop you with a firm hand, “If you don’t want this ending right now then you need to give me a moment.”

“Hmm, that’s awfully cute of you, Suguru,” you tease him.

“That’s bold,” he licks at the shell of your ear, “I’m going to ruin you.”

“More than you already have?”

He agrees, “So much more.”

It feels like an eternity before he’s finally dragging his hips back, that alone has your breath stuttering. He wants to set a punishing pace so bad; he wants to fuck you until you’re mad but he starts slow. Thrusting back into you at a languid pace, still carefully opening you up on his fat dick. It’s your first time and as much as he loves torturing you, he also loves pleasing you.

You’re scrabbling for purchase at his leisurely pace anyways, not expecting the heavy drag of his cock to feel this mind numbing. He chuckles lowly at the way you’re already weak for him, though it’s completely his fault considering all he’s put you through up until now.

“I think you may be the awfully cute one,” he smirks at you.

Your insides tug at his tone, “You can– hnn– be quiet.”

Leaning up, he rest on his knees, pushing your leg back and up. He has a great view of you taking him like this, able to see all your reactions. “I can but your pussy really likes when I talk.”

He’s so smug and he gets to be too because he’s right, his lightly mocking tone and that polite smile he wears is a deadly combo that has your cunt seizing around him. “I like it– hah– better when you’re nice to me.”

“You’re taking me all so well, pretty,” he praises, “Pussy sucking me right back in, so greedily.”

Your eyes roll back at how he thrusts into you, new angle hitting deeper than before, “That’s not– hnn– being nice!”

“Really?” He watches the way your hole clenches and feels how much wetter you get around him, “‘Cause you seemed to like it a lot.”

You bite your lip as you look up at him, silently asking for him to fuck you.

He looks down his nose at you, “What are you asking for?”

Sulking, “I want you to– hah– move more.”

“You should’ve just said that then,” he crooks his head to the side at you.

The slow drag out is the same as always until he’s fucking himself back into you sharply, a gasped moan stumbling from you as your hands seek stability in the mattress below. Your whine is dragged out when he repeats it over and over, brows knitted together in your pleasure.

“That’s a nice reaction,” he comments smugly.

You only hum at him, too consumed by the feeling of him shoving his dick in and out over and over in such a relentless pace that you’re seeing stars. Either you’ve closed your eyes or they’ve rolled to the back of your head because you’re not seeing much of anything right now.

Your eyes are welling with tears, chest heaving with your breaths. The stretch in your leg increasing when Geto pushes down into you further, pushing back on your leg with it. He’s basically folded it over his shoulder, you had no idea you were capable of bending this much. You’re so dazed and fucked stupid when you look to him lazily, he looks so pretty like this. Hunched over you and driving his cock in and out of your tight heat, his hair hanging messily over his shoulders and face as his expression twists in bliss.

Reaching a hand up, you tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, “You’re pretty.”

You say it so dopily that he wonders if you know what you’ve just said, “I’m fucking you to the point you’re cock drunk and you think I’m pretty?”

A shudder runs through you at his voice, “Mhm, and– ah!– you have– hnn– have a pretty voice.”

God help him, he’s about to cum from you calling him pretty. “St– stop– hnn– talking.”

“Sugu, you feel so–”

He cuts you off with a hand over your mouth, he has a feeling that whatever you were about to say would have him cumming inside you. “You’re so cute but I need you to shut up before I cum.”

From behind his hand, you look ruined. Tears slipping from your eyes, he can feel the way you’re drooling against his skin. The only sounds in the room his grunts, your muffled moans and the slick squelching of you swallowing his cock.

You want to keep telling him how pretty he is and how good he’s making you feel but even without him hindering you, you feel as though you may be beyond words now. Brain not able to form very cohesive thoughts as of this moment let alone speak them. He has you feeling so full, his cock throbbing against your walls in a way that has your skin thrumming.

Geto’s eyes lock down on where he’s stuffing himself into your little cunt, he feels himself short circuiting at the sight. Pussy bulging around him, struggling to take him all, dick so shiny with your slick. White creamy ring at the base of himself, it’s messy and lewd and it has him feeling so unbelievably obsessed with your cunt.

Thinking distantly that he’s going to do his best to impress you on your date so he can have you again, next time he’s definitely licking your pussy. Debauched groans vibrate in his chest at the thought, he’s going to make this so unforgettable for you, he needs you to be as obsessed with him as he is you. He’s going to be so much worse after this and he was already down pretty bad.

Your hand grabs at his wrist, trying to tug it away so you can speak. He pulls back out of curiosity, “I– hnn– I’m– ah!–” Giving up trying to warn him after a particular thrust has you crying out, there’s no real point in warning him anyways.

He grins at your inability to say anything meaningful, “I’ve gotcha, go ahead and cum for me.”

Of course he knew exactly what you were trying to say, how does he already know your body so perfectly. He leans down to you, impossibly close, just to kiss your cheek and say, “Come on, pretty, I wanna feel you squeeze me tight before I cum in you.”

Crude and obscene and effective because his words make you shudder as you suddenly cum around him. A little frantic in how you squirm under him, eyes rolling as your hips fight to fuck yourself onto his thrusts. Pitiful whimpers of his name leaving you repeatedly, the only really comprehensive thing you’re able to utter out.

Geto’s orgasm is immediately triggered by yours, he was hoping he’d get to play with you a little more but as soon as he felt the sinful way you gripped him while you came, he was done for. Your cunt pulsating around him milking him for all he’s worth, he’s cumming so much so deeply. His hips flush to yours as he only grinds into you to ride out both your highs.

He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that much in his life and he’s unsure if it’s because it’s you or because he held back for so long. His weight drops to you as he catches his breath, feeling spent and so drunk on your pussy that if he thought too hard about you he’d get hard again.

Your hand taps lightly at his shoulder, words all garbled when you speak, “Sugu, too heavy.”

Shoving his arms under you, he rolls until you’re on top of him. Cock slipping from you in the process and it has you letting out a cute whine.

“It’s leaking out of me,” you warn him.

He groans, “Don’t say that.”

You rest your check to his collarbone, “Why not?”

“I’ll get turned on again.”

Rolling your eyes at him, “You’re an insatiable pervert.”

“You’re not much better.”

His hands tickle up your sides, repeating the motion over, it’s making you feel sleepy. “You’re still worse.”

He just hums at you, apparently not caring to argue back. “You gonna be okay to shower?”

“In a bit… and only if you carry me the whole time.”

He laughs at that, “Sure.”

You draw mindless patterns on his chest with your finger, “So… where are you taking me on my first date?”

𝒂.𝒏. this was actually a request that i got carried away with,, my requests aren't even open i just fucked with the idea that hard hehe.... i hope you all enjoyed and thank you very much for reading !!!

(i recently made a discord for my followers so if you guys are interested in that please check out the pinned page on my blog :3)

[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision