mang

his length springs out from its restraint, buoyantly slapping against his stomach from the force of your movements, making him jump.

“i-i’ve never done this before…”

a smile overtakes your lips and you respond by splaying your soft hands over his toned quads, tenderly rubbing the muscle there to calm his nerves. just that little touch makes precum ooze down his shaft, his lashes fluttering. he’s surprised at how hard he is and you’re surprised at how big he is—with a pretty blush-toned tip and a long vein down the side to match.

but he can’t help being nervous. not when he’s silently pined after you for so long. too shy to court you or actually make a move, constantly hiding behind excuse after excuse. surely his studies would leave him far too busy to even think of messing around with a girl, let alone date one, so he tried his best to ignore that nagging feeling in his chest.

but you saw right through his attempt at hiding his little crush on you, if the long glances searing through the side of your skull everyday during lecture were anything to go by. or across the dining hall while you talked with your friends, where you’d caught him a few times, eyes flitting to see his already on you. a grin and a fluttering wave of your fingers was all it took to have him blushing like a schoolboy, his head dropping down in an instant. little did you know, he’s jerked off to the photos on your instagram an embarrassing amount of times so it’s no wonder he could barely keep eye contact.

you found his timidity adorable, loved it, even. he was always so nice, so helpful. giving you his notes to copy off of when you missed a lecture without you even asking, offering to carry your books for you whenever they looked heavy. nearly tripping over his own feet to rush in front of you and open the door to the classroom so you didn’t have to lift a finger. it’s something about sweet, shy boys who are just aching to be ruined that does it for you.

you’d told him you needed some extra help for the upcoming exam, asked if he wanted to come over to your place to have a study session. he was more than happy to oblige in your seemingly innocent request and barely let you finish asking before he blurted ‘yes’. and now, here you have him on the couch of your apartment, his colored coded notebook tossed to the ground and his cock out. he’s certain he had a wet dream about this exact scenario a couple days ago.

“calm down, pretty boy. just relax, okay?” you smile up at him through dense lashes, having to stop yourself from giggling at how quickly he flinches when your fingers curl around his attention-hungry erection. he’s a bundle of nerves and all you can think about is how much fun you’re going to have unwinding him.

“then stop looking at me like tha-that,” he stutters through gritted teeth. one hand used to prop himself up, he brings the backside of the other up to his mouth in a fist. he has to resist the intense urge to bite it in an effort to quiet the obscene noise he almost makes when your tongue flicks out to lick the salty-sweet essence off his tip.

he’s red in the face, blushing that of something fierce as you keep eye contact with him through fluid movements. yuta thinks he’s on the verge of a heart attack with how hard it’s slamming against his ribs.

“we can stop anytime you’d like, y’know.” you remind him sweetly.

gentle strokes to his cock threaten to crumble his composure, your wrist curling in a half-circular motion that drives him wild. you use your thumb to brush the underside of his most sensitive area below his tip and a broken moan fights its way past pursed lips, rumbling his chest as he tries his hardest not to curl inward and away from the touch he craves so.

hell, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your other hand has an iron-clad grip on his hip because you already know how fidgety he gets, and honestly, you’re making him feel way too damn good for him to tell you to stop.

his brain is absolute mush at this point, but he still manages to get it out, maybe a little too eagerly.

“n-no! i… i want to.”

you’re teasing him on purpose and he can tell. he’s only done this with you once before, and yet you already know how to touch him, how fast to stroke him, how hard. he’s dumbfounded and honestly a bit embarrassed at how reactive he is to your minuscule touches. you’ve barely gotten started. why the hell doesn’t it feel like this when he does it himself?

he watches you with slightly widened eyes, and you can’t really tell if the look in them is one of astonishment at how quickly you can have him writhing, or fear due to how easily you can do so. Probably a mix of both.

after a few more kitten licks to the throbbing appendage , you can’t bear to hear his whining and whimpering any longer without feeling sorry for him. your wet, sappy lips spread around the angry head of his cock and draw him in, cheeks hollowing out so the inside of your mouth drags against his veins tortuously.

“h-hahhh,” the warmth of your mouth has his eyes nearly rolling back. he had no idea this would feel even better than the first time. his balls tense (along with the rest of his body) the second you seal your mouth around him and you can tell he stopped himself from cumming right then and there.

his mind is sent into a haze instantly and slowly you lower your head, taking as much of him in your mouth as you possibly can. having him a little over halfway into your mouth, you can already feel your eyes watering so your hand takes the rest of what you can’t and it moves in sync with the bobbing of your head.

yuta sighs, head dipping back when you take his length into your throat, eyes pinching shut while his hands crumple into tight fists at his sides— a method to keep himself in control, a futile one, at that.

his breathing is shallow but it only makes you pull your cheeks in harder, increasing the suction of your sucking as well as the speed. You’re determined to make a mess out of him.

he’s holding back and you can tell, trying to quiet and shrink himself. he’s always been so shy and reserved, so it’s no shock that even now, while the two of you are completely alone, he’s still won’t let himself relax fully.

you pull off him with an audible pop, and his head instantly snaps back up at the sudden loss of contact. spit pools in your mouth before it’s dribbling down your puckered lips and spilling onto his swollen tip, and you smile up at him when he mewls for you to please keep going, melting further into his seat as you stroke him.

your gaze is sweltering. your eyes have such a hold on him that he can’t help but stare right back at you, chest heaving, face flustered and all.

“you’re a good boy, right, yuta?” the question comes with an almost mocking tilt of your head, but you continue to tug at his cock nonetheless. blinking up at him as if you’re unaware of how difficult it is for him to form words while he’s trying to focus on not covering your face in a sheet of white.

he gulps, nodding his head fervently, an impatient shift of his hips, up and into your hands following afterwards. “y-yes, yes, hmmnn—i’m whatever you want me to be. i’m a good boy.” he forces out in one fast breath, his leg jerking slightly at the feeling of your fingers brushing lower near his base. “just—hngh—please… keep going.”

you hum, the sound of it indicating that you don’t believe him. you dip your head down, leisurely dragging the flat of your tongue against his balls in a derisively slow manner and he almost cries at that, an open-mouthed kiss set upon one before you’re stating your demand. “then let me hear you.”

“s-shit,” he chokes out almost instantly at the new feeling, basically bucking his hips up into your hand at this point. you purr in approval and engulf his shaft back into your mouth, reveling in the throaty moans that waft past his trembling lips. they’re laced with need and music to your ears.

if your mouth wasn’t full of him, you would’ve gasped when he suddenly grabbed onto a handful of your hair with a firm hold. actively surrendering to the fight against his own pleasure, he lets out a wanton moan and a string of curses as he thrusts his cock into your mouth. yuta barely swears but it seems like it’s all he can do today. his movements are urgent, no set pace as he chases the orgasm he can feel brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“m’sorry,” he pants out in response to the sound of you gagging due to how deep he’s forcing his cock, though the increased force of his movements heavily contradict the genuine remorse in his voice. he’s so greedy with you, he knows. but plunging his length into the back of your throat feels too good for him to try and reason with himself.

you halt your movements and let him do the work seeing as he’s enjoying himself so much. you’re so proud of him. the sting of your scalp should probably concern you, but it only makes your thighs rub together and your core tingle with a newfound need that would later be quelled with his avid assistance.

“f-fuck, your throat feels so good,” he groans out, both of his hands cradling your head now as he uses your mouth to his satisfaction. one of your hands drop down to rub quick circles over your clothed pussy, anything to soothe the ache of your desperate walls fluttering.

the noises flowing so freely from the man above only rile you up more, and you’re restless to make him cum so he can hurry up and clean up the mess growing between your thighs. you can’t help but moan around him, and the muffled vibration against his length is all that’s needed to send him over the edge.

there isn’t enough time to warn you before your mouth floods with a wave of white, and his chest heaves from his weighted breaths as he empties his hot seed directly down your throat. you swallow as fast as you can, struggling to keep up with the hot spurts that shoot out and coat your tongue. he’s never came this much before, that he’s sure of.

your squeal of surprise is stifled when his hands push your head down as far as it can go, the tip of your nose ghosting the soft patch of hair at his pelvis while his hips sputter out short, sporadic thrusts to ensure you take every drop of him. blinded by his own surge of ecstasy, he quickly comes to when a choked cough forces its way from your chest, causing his own cum to leak out past your lips and onto his balls.

he huffs, hands immediately releasing their hold as he lets you come up for air and apologizes more times than you can count with that oh so sweet look he gets in his eyes. you gasp and reel back, lips swollen and coated with a mix of your saliva and his seed.

he watches with a dazed look as you clean them off with a quick swipe of your tongue, and when you swoop down and languidly lick what you couldn’t swallow off his hot skin he groans.

“oh my god…” hand over his mouth, he drops his head back and gulps like he’s scared of how you managed to pull such a reaction out of him. and with the look you’re giving him, maybe he should be.

batting your lashes, you kiss at his cock as it twitches against your flushed cheek and his head pops back up when you tease him with a hum,

“think you can give me one more?”

.

.

.

© plumkissed 2026

Relationships are hard, which is probably why your longest one yet still ended despite your desire for it not to. Maybe you should’ve tried harder, communicated more. These are thoughts that run through your head frequently in the aftermath. Breaking up with a man you still love but aren’t quite sure you like anymore was incredibly gut wrenching. Going no contact was even harder but you knew you’d go back if you didn’t. 

It's been months and you’re still filled with regrets over what could’ve been, what you could’ve done differently. But that’s neglecting the fact that you tried for so long with nothing changing. You were feeling underappreciated – you were underappreciated – and you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life like that. You deserve more, you deserve to feel like you’re important.

It got to the point where you were too embarrassed to tell your friends about how you were feeling because you knew what they’d say. You knew because you would’ve told them the same thing had they been in your spot. Leave.

So, you did but you’re left with a sense of longing and the longer time passes the more your feelings fester into something else. Anger, annoyance, disappointment. Why couldn’t he just treat you how you deserved, was it so hard for him to act like he loved you. Was it because he didn’t love you?

Relationships are overrated.

Sighing to yourself as you wander the aisles of the convenience store, you just need a few things to help with your hangover and then you’ll go back to your apartment and wallow. Your friends had told you that you needed to move on and to them, that meant clubbing. A lot of dancing and free drinks later, you’re stuck with fun memories and a killer headache.

A headache that’s making it hard to properly orient yourself in this small store. They need to stop moving things around, every time you get used to the layout—they change something again. You’re crouched down low looking for pain meds when you feel someone behind you. They’re too close and it’s weird, if you’re in the way they can just wait or politely ask you to move.

You can feel them move off to your side, squatting down next to you. A large hand presents the brand you were looking for and you quickly recognise the tattoos on his wrist. This is so your luck, you’ve spent months avoiding the hell out of him just for him to show up when you’re in a bad mood, hungover, and wearing one of his hoodies you’d kept.

Perhaps it’s a little petty of you but you lean over and grab from where he’d pulled the meds from instead of taking from him directly. You’re standing up right after, not wanting to have to talk to him.

“Holding a grudge I see,” Sukuna comments, looking up at you.

Looking down your nose, you’re asking, “Do I know you?”

“C’mon now,” he rises to his full height, towering over your form, “We know each other intimately.”

“I’m not in the mood, Sukuna,” you walk off. Going to the front to pay.

“See, you do remember me.” Despite your lack of a reply, he’s following behind you, “Big night?”

You don’t answer that either, entirely not in the mood to deal with this. It was hard enough not reaching out to him in the time after your breakup and now he appears out of nowhere acting like nothing happened.

There’s nothing said between you two until you’re out the store, his big mouth opening to say, “Do you miss me?”

Continuing to walk ahead, grumbling out, “I’m not answering that.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, our relationship wasn’t all bad.”

You turn around and glare at him, trying to figure out if you have it in you to get mad right now. You don’t, you’re tired and worn out and any anger you try to summon is being dampened by the sadness you’re feeling at seeing him so unexpectedly.

The ache of your—not so—freshly ended relationship is nowhere close to being soothed and on top of that, you don’t feel well from your hangover. A part of you is craving his comfort and then the other part of you is growing sadder because he never was able to give the kindness you needed.

Deciding to stay silent, you face forwards once again and start walking away from him. Of course, he’s not one to give up so easily, still on your tail.

Sukuna’s voice is as recognisable now as it always had been, “You’re seriously going to keep ignoring me?” he’s caught up to you, walking beside you like you’re not trying to avoid him.

Able to feel his eyes watching you carefully, taking in your strained expression, your tired eyes. You really wish you had enough anger in you to say something accurate and cutting that would have him second guessing himself but in this moment, you’ve got nothing.

Observing you for a little while longer before stating, “You kept my hoodie.”

That has you stopping again and wordlessly, you’re pulling it off and chucking it at him. Left in a too thin t-shirt for the cool weather you’re having but you can hardly care, your apartment isn’t far.

“That’s not what I wanted.”

“I don’t really care what you want anymore.”

He doesn’t blink at that, choosing to ignore the sentiment and telling you what he wants anyways, “I miss you.”

You’re taken aback but not so much as to let it show on your face. That anger you couldn’t find earlier finding you at his simple statement. How can he show up out of nowhere and say that to you without shame? After he let you feel like an afterthought for so long that you started to make yourself and your worries smaller for him.

Frown making its way onto your face as you glare at him, “Fuck you.”

Your words and the venom packed into them don’t bother him, “You’re honestly expecting me to believe you don’t miss me? That you suddenly hate me?”

There’s an incredulous look on your face, shocked by his audacity. Your brows then pinching together as you sigh quietly, “I don’t hate you, Sukuna.”

“Then?”

“‘Then’ nothing.”

The way you feel is too confusing to put into words, anytime you try to open your mouth to verbalise them you end up stopping yourself. Sukuna lets you cycle through all the ways in which you want to try answering him, uncharacteristically patient in this moment.

“I can’t hate you, but I also can’t miss you,” you settle on, a little anticlimactically. “In our relationship… you took something from me and you made me smaller. I’m not putting myself in that position again just because you suddenly feel like you miss me.”

Sukuna takes a step closer to you, about to touch you when you move away from him. His eyebrow twitches at that. “I could change, do better.”

It’s a genuine sign of vulnerability on his part but it’s coming a little too late, he still hasn’t ever apologised to you.

“I don’t believe you.” It takes everything in you to walk away but you do.

Life would’ve gone back to being quiet after that but you still have mutual friends and so the next time you run into him is all too soon at a friend’s birthday party. The party is being thrown at a laid-back bar, gathering for a few drinks.

Everything had started okay, your friends managing to keep you two separate for the most part. That was until the tail end of the evening when he weaselled his way into sitting directly next to you. He’s taking up a lot of space in the booth, leaving you far too conscious of him.

Honestly, you’re even surprised he came tonight. It’s not like he particularly likes Satoru all that much, so it was a bit of a shock to see him here when you walked in. For a split moment, you had considered walking right back out but it was too late and you’d already been spotted.  

The warmth radiating off of him is frustrating because it’s so familiar, the urge to slide in closer and rest against him like you used to almost overwhelming. Almost. As much as you want to find comfort in him, you know you shouldn’t. Not just because of your past but also because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

The last time he saw you, you were considerably more broken. Your state pitiful and tired, it’s not the same tonight. Tonight, you dressed up nice, you have more bite back in you and you’re refusing to let him shake your confidence with his presence. The last meeting is one you survived; you’re going to survive this one too.

Showing the attitude you’re carrying with you tonight by muttering at him, “Go sit somewhere else.”

He leans down to reply to you, “I’m fine here.”

“Then I’ll go sit somewhere else,” you say pointedly.

“Don’t be like that,” his legs spread a little wider, his outer thigh resting against yours. “We can be civil for our friends birthday.”

Glaring back at him and pulling your leg away from his, “You don’t even like, Satoru.”

Sukuna’s eyes roll at what he deems your dramatic reaction to his touch, “I don’t dislike him… I just find him annoying.”

“You find everyone annoying.”

“Not you.”

Your arms fold, body language closed off from him, “Well, that’s ironic, considering I find you very annoying.”

He sighs your name, “If I said sorry would you forgive me?”

Oh, he’s pushing it, “We’re not talking about this here.”

That piques his interest, “So, if we went somewhere else?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

His arm rests on the backrest of the booth, “You’re so stubborn.”

You glance up at him and severely regret it, his eyes look soft on you despite the fact he’s just complained about your stubbornness. The fondness in them throws you for a moment, not sure on how you’re feeling about it.

Looking away from him as you reply, “Good thing it’s not your problem then.”

“It’s a problem I’d welcome.” He grins at you.

“Are you aiming to upset me?”

A warm hand is placed on your knee, encouraging you to look into his eyes, “I really am sorry.”

Everything stops, the words he’d neglected to say for months now said to you so sincerely long after the relationship ended. There’s a knot in your stomach and you’re not sure how you’re about to react. Halfway between slapping him and crying.

Plucking his hand off of you, you stand and exit the booth. Pointedly ignoring how Sukuna calls your name, trying to regain your attention. You’re not going back, you can feel it in yourself, the way you might actually want to forgive him. Moving forwards, you find Satoru and give him one last birthday wish. Not wanting to be impolite to him on his special day and then you’re leaving the bar.

You’re less than happy as you walk out onto the street, you let him get to you. Literally only a few minutes of conversation with him and he shook your resolve. Unluckily for you and your resolve, it doesn’t take long for Sukuna to catch up to you. He’s pulling you back into him, big arms wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.

He’s so warm around you, a completely familiar feeling you used to find so much comfort in. Despite your thoughts, you’re physically relaxing into his hold. Taking in a controlled breath, you say, “Let me go.”

“Take me back and I will.”

“You suck,” you mutter.

The intimacy you two shared is something you’ve been craving, you always felt so safe when he held you and now it’s almost like he’s weaponising that against you. Intentionally or not.

He grumbles against you, “I miss you.”

Spinning in his hold, you place your hands on his chest. “You’re not being fair to me.”

“Take me back anyways.” He leans down closer to you, intentions clear. He’s being selfish and he has to be aware of that but he also must not care because he doesn’t stop himself.

Despite the fact you know you’re vulnerable and it’s a bad idea, you let him kiss you. Entirely too weak in this moment to push him away any more than you already have. His lips on yours are like coming home, his kiss the same as you remember, if not a little more imploring. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him in closer, not feeling this way for a long time. Skin growing hot from his full kisses and quickly getting carried away by the moment.  

Sukuna’s all too happily holding you even closer, big hands on your hips keeping you against him. He’s gripping you firmly, like you might disappear. He sucks on your tongue just to make you shudder, the kiss quickly changing from romantic to arousing.

He trails his lips down your throat and you push his head back, “We’re in public.”

“There’s hardly anyone around,” he replies, not worried. Lips on yours again, his tongue filling your mouth to kiss you that much deeper.

You can feel the way he groans when you push him again, “Stop,” the back of your hand rests over your lips, able to feel the heat radiating off your face. You’re embarrassed, “You turn every kiss dirty.”

“You’re overreacting,” even though he says that, his touch is gentle as he cradles the side of your face.

“Am not. People shouldn’t kiss like that in public.”

That grants you an eye roll. He’s never been one to care about what the people around you think. “Fine, follow me,” he grabs your hand and tugs you along after him.

Your judgement must be fuzzy from the kiss because you’re going along with him, “Where are we going?”

“My car.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, “I’m not making out with you in your car, Sukuna.”

“No, you’re not,” he grins evilly, “We’re going back to my place.”

“Oh, really?” You know you shouldn’t, you know that falling into bed with him is such a big step backwards in your moving on plans, but you can’t deny that the thought of it is tempting.

“I’m not the only one who missed you,” crudely referencing his dick. “And I know you missed it too.”

The daze from his lips on yours has lessened and maybe because he’s upset you so much, you’re returning that invitation with, “Missed what? Faking orgasms?”

He drops your hand and moves in close to you again, his hands now on either side of your head. Thumb brushing against your lower lip before pulling it down, all the heat quickly returning to your face from his small action. “If I were a lesser man I’d let that get to me more, but I know you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”

His thumb pulls back and your lip is back in place, he lingers for a moment longer. Dark eyes considering you and your lips for a bit too long before he grabs your hand once more and continues the walk back to his car.

By this point, you’ve resigned yourself to the status of having officially caved. Willingly going along with him to his place. Sitting uncomfortably in his car’s front seat thanks to the wetness pooling in your panties. It’s been far too long since you last were kissed like that, since you were desired. Discomfort manifesting in your wriggling, thighs rubbing against each other slyly as you do your best to think about anything other than his lips on your skin.

He's pulling onto his street when he speaks again, “You know how I know you’re lying about faking your orgasms?”

Okay, so clearly that did get to him. “I don’t know what makes you think I was lyi—”

“—I know because…” he parks the car and turns the engine off, “you’re a terrible actor. Squirming on the spot because you’re all turned on from a hot kiss.” His hand rests on your jumping thigh, holding it still, “You couldn’t fake an orgasm to save your life,” leaning in to hover his lips over yours, “not to mention all those times I had you squir—”

Your hand slaps over his mouth to shut him up, not needing the reminder of how easy you are for him. “You talk too much about unnecessary things.”

Sukuna grabs your wrist and pulls your hand back, the smile on his face telling you he’s remembering the times he had you squirting around his dick all too fondly. “I disagree.”

Then he moves in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek like he’d done a million times before in the past. It’s the simplicity in the familiar affection that tugs at your heart strings and you can’t help but seek him out more. Turning your head so you can catch his lips with yours, arms around his neck as you both move in sync.

He indulges you completely, holding onto you just as desperately as you are to him. His hands moving over you and groping wherever he can manage to grab. Palming at your tit, greedily holding onto you and groaning into your mouth. You’re crawling over the centre console and he’s helping you along, encouraging you to straddle his lap.

The kiss between you both growing hotter and greedier, you give a little grind down into his erection and he moans into your mouth. The hands on your thighs digging into you at it, wanting more, wanting you to do it again. Giving a second grind down has his lips parting from yours as his head falls back on the cars headrest.

Soft pants coming from him, “I thought you weren’t gonna make out with me in my car?”

“I can stop,” you offer.

There’s a pause and genuine consideration in his expression, filtering through his options. “I’m not fucking you in my car, not after waiting this long.” He pops open his door and helps you to your feet, “We’re doing this properly, in my bed, where I can strip you bare and fuck you how I want.”

You’re watching him and waiting for him to get out of the car himself. “Are you trying to tease me with the anticipation or something?”

“Is it working?” His eyebrow raises to you.

You glare at him, refusing to answer because it definitely is working.

He grins because he still knows you far too well and because he was joking. “I just need a moment,” nodding down to where his thick arousal strains against the front of his pants.

And suddenly you’re feeling embarrassed despite how you were just rocking your clothed cunt against it. “Ah, right.”

“Feeling shy?” comes his taunting voice.

Shooting him with a glare, trying to remind him that you could leave at any moment. “I’d be careful how you act, Sukuna.”

“Keep looking at me like that and we’re not gonna make it upstairs.” He reaches into his pants and readjusts his erection, small hiss passing his lips at his own touch. Then he’s out the car and standing in front of you, the sound of the car door closing behind him.

His hands reach for you and you think it’s to grope at you again but he’s carefully tugging your shirt back into place. Making sure you don’t look so dishevelled from when he was groping you earlier.

Another small action that has your affection for him overwhelming you, wanting to hold him close and experience being loved by him again. Instead, you grab his hands to stop his considerate touch. “Don’t. Don’t touch me like you love me.”

He’s faltering at that, fixing himself to say something before deciding against it at the last minute. Settling his answer on a simple, “Fine.”

Everything is suddenly spinning; he’s picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder. Lugging you into his apartment building while carrying you like a sack of potatoes or something similar. You plant your elbows into his back and use that leverage to hold your head up in your palms, sighing at him.

“This is embarrassing.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he says, tone of voice clearly reflecting his indifference.

And of course, because he can’t help himself, he’s taking the opportunity to grab at your ass. You’re kicking your legs at it a little, but it doesn’t even throw him off balance, completely sturdy and continuing up to his apartment.

“Can’t you put me down?”

His head turns and bites at your sensitive side, teeth nipping your skin where your shirt has ridden up. “No.”

“What the hell!” hand threading into his hair to tug back on his head, “what was that for?”

“Felt like it,” he grins at you, eyes darker than usual from how his pupils have taken over.

Finally at his front door after what feels like hours, though he’s still not putting you down. Single hand resting on your ass while his other reaches into his pocket for his keys. A little forceful in how he kicks the door closed behind him as he crosses the threshold, his impatience becoming more apparent.

You’re not let go until he’s got you in his room, dropped onto his mattress and bouncing a little because of it. Fixing him with an unimpressed gaze, looking through your lashes at him from down below. He’s looking at you with a hungry sort of expression, taking you in slowly. Despite being fully dressed you feel exposed to him, not needing to be a mind reader to be able to tell he’s imagining you naked.

He leans down and grabs your cheeks between his fingers and thumb, “I can only get so turned on.” Lips on yours messy, resulting in a sloppy kiss. His hand not letting you go, still pinching your cheeks to have your lips in a pout.

Huffing out between kisses, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Uh huh.” Not letting the insult get to him, too preoccupied with kissing you breathless.

Reaching your arms around him and hooking a leg around his waist at the same time to attempt to pull him onto the bed properly. You want him under you, growing frustrated by his blasé attitude. It’s not like he’s wrong, he’s just fucking annoying.

Sukuna doesn’t move at all, still when he asks, “What are you trying to do?”

“I was trying to pull you onto the bed,” still pouting.

His hand squishes your cheeks together a little more harshly, “Oh? Feeling desperate?”

“No.” You rumble at him. “I wanted to sit on you.”

And the way he positively lights up has you regretting your choice in words, “What a fantastic idea.”

Hands everywhere on you, undressing you quickly. He slows down when he’s stripped you to your underwear. Appreciating the sight of you, hands trailing up your thighs to keep them open, knowing you too well, knowing you were about to shut them and ruin his view.

“You’re awful wet for someone you had to fake orgasms for,” he comments cruelly, proving his point by digging his thumb into the wet spot on your panties.

He practically shudders at the feel of your slick, in awe by how drenched the material has gotten. It almost has him feeling a little bad for how long it took him to get you up here. Using his thumb to stroke through your folds, teasing you, riling you up even more. Maybe he doesn’t feel all that bad, since your needy reactions make all the wait worth it.

You’re biting into your lower lip to stifle down all the whingey sounds that threaten to slip, you can’t give him the satisfaction of proving him right. Thankfully, he stops touching your pussy but that’s because he’s swapped his focus to unhooking your bra. Shamelessly groping your tits in his large hands, sighing blissfully as he does.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Voice a little strained, jolt going through your body as he pinches your nipples. “That’d be sweeter if you weren’t staring at my tits.”

“I think it’s plenty sweet, considering I was talking to them.” Tongue already hanging from his mouth as he leans down to take your left nipple in.

Gripping his hair automatically as you gasp, insides fluttering at how he’s tracing the sensitive bud with his tongue. Not pulling back until you let out a little moan, his teeth nipping at you as he does. Eyes looking up at you through his lashes, mouth moving to the middle of your chest. Leaving behind soft kisses before sucking a hickey into your skin.

When he does manage to detach himself from you, he’s grabbing your head between his hands. “I got a little distracted,” full kiss pressed to your lips, “let’s have you sit on me, yeah? Just like my precious princess wanted.”

“Why do I feel like you’re not actually going to give me what I want.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

A single hand is in the front of your panties and tugging them down your legs harshly, chucked over his shoulder into some corner of the room. His shirt goes after, like he decided last minute to take it off and you’re grateful for it. His naked torso as enticing as you remember it, the tattoos on his body always managing to arouse you a little more than you expect it to.

He flops onto his back beside you and you let out a shocked laugh, not expecting it. His hand taps at his chest, gesturing for you to get on top of him. A little shakily, you climb onto his lap and he tuts at you. Head shaking softly as he flicks his fingers at you in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“You’re sitting on my face, pretty,” wicked and lecherous smile gracing his features.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly,” eyes unwavering. “You said you wanted to sit on me.”

“I meant—”

“—My dick? I’m aware,” he trails his hands up your legs, digging his fingers into the fat of your thighs. “But I want you on my face so get up here.”

The tone he uses is the one he gives when he’s not interested in continuing the back and forth. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue but even in all your time together this isn’t something you’d done. Suddenly feeling incredibly shy, biting at your lower lip as you gaze down at him.

“Stop being cute,” the way he pinches at your sensitive skin makes you pout. “If you keep me waiting much longer I’ll just pick you up myself.”

“You’re such a perv,” you grumble but shuffle up his body.

His hand slaps lightly at your ass as you make your way to his face, self-satisfied grin already etched onto his features. “Uh huh,” he hums offhandedly.

Once your dripping cunt is hovering over his face he’s well and truly distracted, thumbs reaching under you to part your folds. Eyes glinting in the low light of the room as he consumes you with his eyes. Well and truly pleased with your compliance, with how soaked you are.

Sukuna’s almost convinced he could open his mouth to hang his tongue and you’d drip sinfully sweet onto it. Beads of your delicious slick drooling from your hole and sliding down your inner thigh, his eyes locked onto it. He can feel his dick twitching in his pants at it, almost painful with how it’s pressing into the front of the material. Aching to be freed, throbbing angrily and begging to rip through his jeans.

Your soft voice pulls him back, “Sukuna, what are you—” His eyes meet yours and the look in them has your voice cutting off.

He doesn’t miss the reaction he gets from you, tight hole spasming around nothing. It sets him off, tugging you down onto his face quickly. Tongue already having left his mouth and ready to lap at you obscenely. Revelling in the surprised mewl he gets from you as his wet muscle explores you eagerly. Nudging inside you and he realises it really has been too long if you’re this tight around his tongue.

It's overwhelming, how everywhere he is. You’re trying to pull away, hands on the headboard trying to lift your weight away from him but he damn near growls into your weeping cunt. Moving his arms to lock around your thighs and hold you deathly still as he eats you out from below.

The pleasure thrumming through your body has you melting into a puddle, thighs sliding further apart, getting desperate for more. Sukuna loves it, loves that you’re losing it to the point you’re opening yourself up to him. He likes when you get a little greedy about it, likes seeing you on the edge of tears and begging him for more with your actions.

He’s completely intent on ruining you with his mouth, still holding a bit of a grudge against the shitty comment you made earlier about faking your orgasms. It’s enough to almost make him laugh because he can already tell you’re incredibly close so quickly. You’ve needed this, he can tell. Probably been neglecting your poor pussy, not giving her the loving she really needs.

You feel like you’re vibrating as he just keeps making out with your cunt, feeling so high strung. Aching to grind down into him but stopped short by his strong arms, your hands reach back to claw at his forearms. Sukuna can tell exactly what you want though, loosening his hold just enough so you can lightly rock against him.

Oh, he loves it too, moaning into you as you drag yourself across his tongue. Revelling in how your shyness has left you, instead replaced with need. Warm palms slide from your thighs, up to your hips. Encouraging you to ride him, flattening his tongue for you to slip along.

It’s almost too much, almost. The fight between wanting to move away and to continue grinding down a short one, choosing to keep riding his tongue because you’re just so close. You can taste it on your tongue and Sukuna can taste it on his too. Your little hole twitching in the tell-tale way that lets him know you’re about to completely lose it.

Pace slowing from exertion, legs getting wobbly but he’s not having any of it. Slapping your ass to keep you moving. It jolts through you and shamefully triggers your orgasm. The sweet sting of his large hand smacking your ass to keep you moving is enough to have you choking on whimpers as you cum in his mouth.

There’s an audible gulp from Sukuna drinking your cum, the action obscene and blatant. His foggy eyes locked on yours as he keeps you over his face, even as you try to wiggle off him.

“Kuna, lemme go,” you whine, all blissed out and sensitive.

His head moves to the side and bites down into your plush thigh, enough to leave little indents of his teeth. Tongue laving over it to soothe the slight pain, just to then leave a sucked kiss over the mark. Popping off your thigh with a content expression.

“I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon, don’t be a brat.” Lips quirked up in a knowing smile, “Now, either I’m imagining things, or you just came awful hard on my face.”

Trying again, warning, “Sukuna.”

His eyes roll at you and the way you try chastising him, he’s pretty sure he just told you not to be a brat. Using his strength, he picks you up and places you right on top of his throbbing erection. The warmth of your wet pussy right over where he needs attention the most making him groan.

“You still wanna sit on my dick, pretty? Think you got it in you?” Referencing your shaky legs.

You want to, so bad, you’ve always loved riding him. Grinding down into him while he sits deep inside your walls, tip kissing your cervix as you almost torture him with your leisurely pace, but your legs are weak from straddling him so long and the force of your orgasm.

Sukuna can tell you’re actively fighting with yourself, not sure on what you want and what you can manage. It’s cute, it’s really cute but his patience has worn thin and his cock is about to fucking explode.

“Later then,” he says, rolling and taking you with him. Now looming over you.

He can’t keep his hands to himself, fingers stuffing into your snug cunt. Aiming to open you up for him, you’re all twitchy and soaked. Gripping his fingers and drenching them in your slick and cum, wet eyes flicking down to see where his thick digits are working you open.

“Fuuuck– I forgot what a creamy pussy you got, baby.”

His almost wrecked voice shoots through you, insides convulsing and he of course notices. Eyes brighter and smile wider, crooking his fingers to stroke your g-spot. Scissoring them to open you up that much more, eyes locked on how you’re dribbling down the length of his digits. He’s enjoying himself, having fun toying with your needy pussy.

Doing your best to glare at him but falling short, “Quit– hnn– quit teasing.”

“I’m not teasing,” he definitely is, “I’m trying to make sure you can actually take my dick.”

“I think– hah– I’ll be fine.”

He punishes you by easing another finger inside, pace quickening and fucking you on all three of them. “You’ll be fine?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head, horniness outweighing your critical thinking skills. Logically, you know it’s been a while and you know how big he is but, right now, you’re convinced you could take him in one go simply based on how bad you want it.

“One orgasm and you’re already all stupid,” the wet slapping sound of his palm hitting your clit is loud. “Are you about to cum again?”

Nodding your head once more, hands gripping into the bedding below. It feels so fucking good, Sukuna always was able to reach deeper than you ever could. Angling his fingers just right and bullying your g-spot, grinding his palm into your sensitive clit to work you up a little more.

Your hips try to hump down into his hand but he’s using his unoccupied one to press into your lower stomach, holding you still. The pressure only adds to your pleasure, moans tumbling from your lips and eyes rolling back.

“I thought you had to fake it?” He taunts. “Were you telling lies, baby?”

You’re too out of it to give him a real and meaningful response, too involved in the way you’re falling apart on his fingers. Eyelashes wet with your blissed out tears, caught between overstimulation and not enough. A little bit more, a little bit more and you’ll cum again.

And then he stops his movements, fingers stock-still inside your shivering walls. “You gotta answer me.”

Chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, hands reaching out to him, craving him against you. “Kuna, don’t stop.”

“I asked a question,” he lets you paw at him but doesn’t move any closer, waiting for you to admit to lying.

“I lied, okay?” you grumble at him, annoyed that he’s held onto that comment for as long as he has, “I was lying, now can you just please– ah!”

“Good girl,” his pace picks up again, “stupid fucking lie to tell.”

The pleasure is blinding you, working you up a wall and giving you an unfamiliar kind of thrill, “Wait– hng– wait– oh my god.”

He slows down, asking, “You were just whinging at me to keep going and now you want me to wait?”

“Hff– it– hnn– it feels different.”

“Oh?” evil and pleased look on his face, “Just let it happen, I promise it’ll feel good.”

Fucking his fingers into you in earnest once he realises what’s happening, teeth in his lower lip as he watches you writhe and whimper. Just a little more pressure on your lower stomach, stimulating your cervix and he has you squirting for him.

You’re babbling all stupid, moaning through your incredible high and he’s talking you through it. “There you go! Good job,” he keeps moving his digits, helping you ride the waves of your orgasm, “bet that feels fucking great, huh?” slipping from you slowly before leaning down and kissing your cheek, “You’re adorable, I could eat you.”

Instinctively, you try to close your legs only stopped by him in-between them. He laughs at your reaction. Then he kisses you deep and slow, tender in how he makes out with you in your docile state. Tongue flicking against your own and chest rumbling at how sweet you are.

Own arms wrapping around him and holding him close, wanting the contact, the intimacy. Sukuna’s been so patient, or at least so patient for him but his patience is snapping with how pliant you’re acting, “You ready for more?”

“Yeah,” you’re buzzing in delight and still aching for him, words slurring together a bit, “I want you inside me.”

And he’s off you to pull off his pants and boxers in record time, back between your legs just as quickly. Unable to abandon his teasing that easily though and using the head of his cock to tap against your sopping pussy, humming happily at how you’re jolting with each contact.

“You think you’re gonna squirt for me again?”

You’re growing frustrated, more by his inaction than his words, huffing, “I don’t control that.”

“That’s right, I do.”

Slowly plunging his dick inside your gooey walls, sighing out a moan as he sinks further and further inside you. Inch by delicious inch, he stretches you open and brushes up against every sensitive spot you have. Feeling like you’re one big nerve ending as he takes his time to let your cunt swallow him.

“Ohhh, this pussy missed me,” he groans, head tipping back.

His eyes flick down to glimpse the way he’s fucking into your drooling hole, the softness of your creamy, silken walls have him feeling insane. It might’ve been too long; he might’ve played with you too long because he doesn’t feel like he’s going to last inside you at all. You could ask him to cum for you right now, all saccharine sweet how you used to and he’d do it, he wouldn’t even be able to control it.

Large body collapsing down, pressing himself tight to you as he bottoms out. Keeping you so close, like you might disappear on him if he lets you go for even a second. He’s giving short, quick thrusts, not even willing to pull out of you more than he is.

You feel so unbelievably full and overwhelmed by him, the weight of his cock inside you making your pussy feel hot and the weight of him on top of you making you feel crowded and fuzzy. He smells so good, so familiar. Your legs lock around his waist and he eases a bit more inside your jumpy hole.

The moan that it pulls from him has you dripping impossibly wetter, finding his lips with your own before he can crudely comment on it. He quickly dominates the kiss, deepening it and then pulling back to suck on your tongue. Hips still lightly moving, one particular thrust harsher than the ones before when you lick at his lower lip.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your mouth, “but I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Dick slipping from you as he pulls out to flip you onto your stomach, slamming into you again before you can even whine about the loss. He’s gripping and manoeuvring you by your hips into a mean arch for him, bowing your back by pressing between your shoulder blades.

Hitting so much deeper like this, repeatedly stroking against something devastating inside you. His stride brutal and needy, fucking you like he’ll die if he stops. His hands on your hips tight enough to possibly leave marks for you to get horny over again later.

His name tumbles from your mouth like a prayer, like it’s enough to ground you. So lost in the euphoria of him dicking you down like you’ve so badly needed that you don’t even catch the way he chuckles and coos at you.

Folding over top of you, he talks low, “You’re falling apart aren’t you? Having fun?” his teeth drag along the shell of your ear, “Missed this bad, huh? Could’ve had it the whole time, baby.”

You try to grumble at him but your voice cracks all pitiful and broken, moans replacing whatever annoyed sound you almost made. “Hng– Mean– hff—” is all you can manage.

“I tease you because I love you,” he returns. Tucking his face into your neck and sucking a dark hickey into your skin.

You’re unintentionally clenching around him at his second confession of the night, when you’ve come down from how good this feels you’re going to be pissed that he’s only said that while balls deep but right now it’s only adding to everything. Hips bucking back to meet every one of his thrusts, the sounds of his pelvis smacking your ass bouncing off the walls of the room. No doubt he’ll be getting a very frustrated noise complaint from the neighbours, one that’ll he’ll ignore.

Sukuna is half-way convinced he’s having an incredibly vivid dream because you feel heavenly wrapped around his dick. You’ve been away from him for so long that he’s not even sure you’re really here, but the way you’re whimpering and pulling tighter around him tells him you’re all too real. You’re really here and he gets to tell you he loves you and shove your hole full of him and hold you tight.

He's reaching under you to pull you up and back, forcing you onto your knees as your back rests against his front. Large hands fondling your tits as he keeps driving into you, “You left me for too long, baby. I’m not gonna last much longer.”

Teeth dragging along your neck, sucking, and licking, and biting, marking you. Leaving behind so much evidence of just how well he’s fucked you, desperate to have your body remembering him after tonight. It’d pulled at his heart that you don’t remember the shape of him anymore, that he’d had to work you open all over again. Though, he certainly had a lot of fun doing so.

“Kuna,” you whine, “I’m– hnn– I’m gonna—”

“—Yeah, go ahead,” he pinches at your nipples, “Soak my dick, pretty.”

Like he’d given you permission, you cum all over his cock. The urge to fold forward hitting you but he’s holding you back against him. Chin hooked over your shoulder so he can watch how he’s pounding into you.

“Ah, you squirted again for me,” his chest rumbles, pleased, “doing so– hng– so fantastic for me, baby.” One hand leads down to your lower stomach, pressing right over where his cock hits the deepest part of you, “You want it inside?”

Eyed lidded low and fluttering, “Yes… please.”

“Yeah, knew you would,” he smirks.

Indulging in how your warmth has completely engulfed him, so much wetter with your squirt. Needy pussy lovingly clinging to him and sucking him back in lewdly, it’s enough to have him cumming at the thought alone. The reality is so much better, even better yet how he’s coating your inner walls in his seed. Dumping his heavy load into your womb, fucking it all deep inside you.

He's cum so much it’s leaking back down the base of him, a filthy mess between your legs. “Took it so well,” he comments, grabbing your face and pulling you back to press a sloppy kiss on your lips.

You feel out of it, floating on cloud nine from how much pleasure he’d just delivered your body. All twitchy and blissed out from your multiple orgasms, the warmth of his cum inside you adding to it all. His hands are soft on you as he carefully lays you down, gentler than he usually is.

“Join me in the shower?” he asks but it doesn’t sound much like a question.

Standing feels like a monumental task right now, “Can’t.”

“Drama queen,” his eyes roll but he’s picking you up and walking you into the bathroom with him. He places you on the bench while he turns on the shower, turning back to you while he waits for it to heat up. “That’s a good sight,” he grins. Eyes carefully trained on how his cum is dripping from your hole.

You shakily close your legs off to him, “Don’t be gross.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” lifting you again so he can wash you in the shower.

Few words are spoken as he works soap all over your soft skin, attentive in how he cleans you. The shower is warm and the perfect temperature, only adding to the relaxation running through your bones. He keeps you close and treats you like you might break and in your hazy state, you almost forget that you’re not together anymore.  

But you’re not and you have to actively remind yourself that there’s a reason for that, that just because he’s treating you well right now… doesn’t mean it wouldn’t all go back to being exactly how it was before. It’s not the first time he’s temporarily changed for you and you can’t go through that again.  

Once you’re out the shower, Sukuna disposes of the dirty bed spread and tucks you in with him. His big body pressed to yours and making you feel so safe. It’s the best sleep you have in a while but when he wakes up in the morning, you won’t be there.

𝒂ﾉ𝒏. it's done ! thanks for reading and i hope you guys liked it ! it wasn't super long because it was supposed to be a short little thing but i got carried away with the smut a little teehee. also first sukuna fic !!! how'd i do ??,, i find i have fun writing him even if he is a ooc ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

“oi.”

you froze with your hand on your purse, about to reach for your keys, head snapping up at his voice as he made his way toward you, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

you turned your head slowly, eyes trailing up his tall frame, though looking at him only made things worse; his pink, coral strands faintly glowing under the streetlight, tan skin catching the light, black markings accentuating the sharpness of his features.

yeah. you didn’t stand a chance.

“. . . what?”

he scoffed. “what?” he mimicked under his breath, head tilting slightly, eyes sharp and fixed on you. “you forgetting something?”

your brain only buffered, eyes darting between his face and everything else: left, right, anywhere but him. “no..?” — humming under your breath as you dug through your purse.

lip gloss.

receipt.

wires.

a sonny angel, for some reason . . ?

everything but your keys.

normally, you weren’t this awkward. you just weren’t used to this. dates with people you actually found attractive. emotionally. intellectually. physically. romantically. sexually—

“you regret comin’ out with me?”

oh . . . 

for a second you almost forgot he was there. well not really. sure, you tuned him out but you could definitely feel him. you could never really ignore ryomen sukuna; the sound of his breathing, the shift of his weight, his presence pressing against your senses, it was all there.

“what?” you blurted, finally looking at him in the eye.

sukuna leaned against the wall beside your door, pink hair shifting against his forehead, his expression unreadable, save for the faint amusement in his eyes.

“you heard me.”

your brows knitted together, mouth opening, then closing, before finally speaking: “no…”, your voice coming out a soft whisper.

his slitted eyebrow only cocked up at you, a faint laugh escaping his throat. “no?” the single word rolled off his tongue slowly, thick with amusement as he watched you, heat crawling higher up your neck under his stare, your movements growing clumsier the longer he looked at you.

“you’ve been diggin’ through that bag for, what, five minutes now. plus you nearly jumped outta a moving vehicle.” he continued lazily, pushing himself off the wall beside your door. “it makes a man wonder.”

“i’m not doing anything,” you said, quieter now, finally meeting his eyes for half a second before looking away again. “you’re the one who keeps staring me down.”

“mm,” he hummed, “so, lookin’ at you’s the issue.” his eyes flickering over your face once more, slow and unhurried. “that right?”

well, yes, that was part of the problem. but it wasn’t thee problem. because the actual problem was much worse. the actual problem was that you liked sukuna. like. like-liked. and he liked you too.

“well, no! i just—”　　 what an insufferable man. 　　“i really liked going out with you,” voice going a mile a minute before taking a deep breath, lacing your fingers together in front of you, fidgeting under his gaze. “i loved it.. actually.. i’m not trying to run from you or anything.”

“just nervous.”

“nervous?” he repeats after you, the word foreign on his tongue, “that’s what we’re callin’ it? you’re just embarrassed ‘cause you’ve got it bad for your boyfriend.”

your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, heat flooding your face all at once. “what?! no! don’t put words in my mouth.” you blurt, your hand flying up to shove his chest with a dull thud.

sukuna only lets out a low laugh before his hand comes up quickly to close around your wrist mid motion; his grip gentle but firm, holding you there as his other hand stays buried in his pocket. barely trying.

“so… you gonna say bye properly now?”

you gulp, your hand relaxing in his soft grip. “well… how do you want me to say bye?”

sukuna doesn’t answer, instead, he gently lowers your hand between you, scarlet eyes locking onto your softer, pliant eyes.

“your call.”

and the space between you two seems to freeze, soft silence of the night stretching between the two of you. easy on his end, unbearable on yours.

“w—well…” your eyes flick between his for a second before betraying you entirely, dipping down to his lips without meaning to. “i—” you huff. your throat feels dry, yet it feels unreasonable. sukuna wouldn’t judge you, you hope.

“i wanna kiss you… goodbye...”

“platonically,” you added after a moment.

. . .

his brows lifted slowly.

“you wanna kiss me. platonically?”

“um.” your voice came out smaller than intended. “yes.”

“yeah? and i’m sure those pretty little eyes of yours are lookin’ at me real platonically too.”

“that too.”

silence.

then sukuna hummed low in his throat, all amusement, already taking a step back.

“ah. got it.” he turned slightly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. “well, in that case— have a nice night.”

your eyes widened immediately. “wait—”

he kept walking.

not far. just enough to be annoying.

“sukunaaa,” you whined, hurrying after him before your fingers caught around his forearm, dragging him back to your doorstep. “not like that.”

a soft huff escapes him, his mouth quirking upwards, canines softly refracting the dim light — not quite a smile, but rather satisfaction. “hm?” he glanced down at your hand on his arm. “so now it’s not like that?”

your grip tightens for a second before you realize it and quickly loosen your hand, heat rushing straight to your face. “i—no, i mean—just—don’t pretend you don’t know what i mean…”

his gaze flicks over your face for a second, slow and unreadable, before he scoffs “you’re the one makin’ it complicated.”

“shut up,” you mutter instantly, but there’s no real bite to it, just embarrassment as you finally tug him a little closer.

his hand comes up, settling near your jaw, thumb resting against your warm cheek. your fingers catch lightly at the front of his shirt as you rise onto your toes.

before you could overthink, your lips meet his.

it’s quick. chaste. shy even.

his eyes flutter shut a moment after, his free hand coming out of his pocket to steady you by the waist, warm and heavy, yet restrained, seeping through your clothes.

he doesn’t kiss you back immediately, letting you mold against him. he tilted his head, lips pressing gently against yours; warm, and embarrassingly sweet.

you pull off his lips slowly, a hesitant look in your eyes, your breath catching lightly as you settle back down flat on your feet, hands still gripping the fabric of his shirt.

your heart was beating so hard you were sure he could hear it. did he like it? did he think you were a bad kisser? to be fair, you didn’t kiss many people. or often. but what if—

“hell,” he mutters, like he didn’t expect that, “you even kiss cute. kinda sweet.”

you pant, “what does that even mean?”

his gaze flicks back to your mouth and the slight furrow of your eyebrows.

the way your fingers still cling lightly to his shirt, the shy warmth clinging to your skin, even that stupid little clip tucked into your hair.

a quiet exhale leaves him through his nose, almost a laugh.

yeah. annoyingly cute.

“why’re you always askin’ obvious questions?”

“because youre always saying weird things,” you huff, “and you’re annoying.”

he lets out a soft laugh, leaning down slightly to your height. “i’m annoying?”

you only nod, biting down on the plush of your lip before looking away again, suddenly very interested in anything but him.

except before you could give an actual rebuttal, his lips meet yours deeper this time, no longer testing the waters. still gentle, but an unspoken certainty lingering in the way he kissed you. his mouth warm against yours, moving slow and unhurried, giving you all the time in the world to keep up, hell, even backout if you wanted to, the space between you disappearing.

his hand shifts from your waist up to your jaw, cradling your face and simply holding you in place for the moment. his other arm staying firm at your side, keeping you close without pulling too hard, steadying your wobbly steps against him.

you swallow down a gasp before your eyes slip shut, your nose bumping lightly against his, the angle a little awkward, a little clumsy, yet perfectly you.

it only makes him breathe out something softer against your mouth, amused, as if it’s exactly what he expected from you.

the kiss deepens for a few more seconds — slow, and warm — until it didn’t feel like teasing anymore. just a need held taut beneath careful restraint.

then he pulls back just slightly, just enough for air, his thumb still lingering at your cheek, in no rush to let you go.

“okay . . . was that . . a good goodbye?” you murmur, breathless, still a little dazed as you finally force yourself to step back.

he lets out a low “hm” under his breath, his thumb dragging lightly against your cheek. “yeah. it was good.”

“s’pose i can let you go now.” removing his hands from your sides, drawing a small, inward pout from you.

your hands went back to your purse, fingers already digging through it again—until sukuna stopped you.

“here.”

you pause.

and there they were.

your keys, dangling right in front of your face from his fingers with a soft jingle, cute, colorful keychains swinging in the quiet night air. you gasp before snatching them immediately.

“you bastard! you saw me looking for them!”

he lets out a soft huff of laughter, not even trying to defend himself. “you dropped them while you were busy runnin’ from me,” he hums, shifting his weight back against the brick wall beside him, a faint, sly smirk settling in on that stupidly handsome face of his, “when i asked if you forgot somethin’, you said no.”

you scoff before rolling your eyes, “well! i thought you were talking about saying bye?!”

his gaze flicks over you, steady and thoroughly amused. “two things can be true at once.”

you make a small sound of frustration and snatch the keys tighter in your hand, glaring up at him through your lashes anyway.

“…thanks,” you mutter.

“…go on,” he murmurs, voice low. “before i change my mind and keep you right here.”

and you knew he wasn’t joking. that man was about one breath from devouring you right then and there.

you turn quickly, fumbling with the lock, the soft jingle of your keys echoing in the stillness, his presence still radiating from behind you. his gaze dropped briefly to your hands . . .

“you alright?”

“yes.”

“you’ve missed your keyhole three times now.”

“i know!” you shoot back immediately.

the door unlocked with a soft click, warm light spilling out into the hallway.

“ okay . . . ” you hummed.

“okay,” he repeated, looking down at you expectantly, waiting for you to head inside.

but instead, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.

a low, rough laugh rumbled out of him before his arms circled around you instantly, strong biceps trapping your head against his chest. his scent, a deep, clean mix of cologne, so distinctly him, filling up your senses and making your head feel all dizzy.

despite his rough exterior, sukuna was soft, surprisingly so. maybe it was the steady weight of his chest against your body, or maybe it was the quiet way he held you that made it hard to think. either way.

you liked it.

you pulled away first with a small cough and an awkward straightening of your clothes, cheeks warm enough to burn through metal.

“okay! um— bye, sukuna,” you blurted awkwardly, already backing toward your apartment door.

except your shoulder clipped the doorframe on the way in.

“fuck—”

you fumbled with the handle in a panic before practically stumbling inside. “bye! goodnight!”

and then, you’re gone.

the door shutting a little too hard behind you, a muffled “ow!” coming from behind the door.

outside, sukuna exhales through his nose, shaking his head as the corner of his mouth curled upward.

“…yeah,” he murmurs to himself. “that tracks.”

you’re in his kitchen again, helping his mom with groceries like you always do. satoru leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you laugh at something his mother says. you’re wearing shorts that hug your thighs and a loose top that slips off one shoulder. he wants to rail you so badly it hurts. wants to push you against the counter, shove those shorts down, and fuck you until you finally see him as a man.

“hey,” he says, voice low and smooth as he walks in. he’s learned how to turn on the charm. “you look good today. new shorts?”

you glance down, then smile like he’s still ten years old. “these old things? thanks, satoru. you’re sweet.”

sweet. the word burns.

he steps closer, towering over you now. “i’m not a kid anymore, you know.”

you laugh softly, patting his arm like you used to when he threw tantrums. “of course you’re not. you’re all grown up. my little troublemaker became a heartthrob, huh?”

satoru’s jaw tightens. he wants to grab you, pin you to the wall, and show you exactly how grown up he is. instead he flashes that signature gojo grin, leaning in so his breath brushes your ear.

“you should let me take you out sometime. dinner. drinks. whatever you want.”

you blink, tilting your head with that innocent confusion that drives him crazy. “aww, that’s so nice of you! are you practicing your lines for the girls at school? you’re gonna break so many hearts.”

he nearly groans. “i’m not practicing. i mean it. i want to take you out. just us.”

you wave him off with a smile, completely missing the heat in his eyes. “you’re adorable. but i’m way too old for you, satoru. focus on college girls your age.”

adorable.

the word makes something snap inside him. he’s imagined you on your knees, lips wrapped around his cock. imagined folding you in half and pounding you until you scream his name. imagined filling you up while you moan about how big he is.

and you still call him adorable.

he steps even closer, backing you against the counter. his height makes it impossible for you to ignore how much he’s grown. “i’m not a little kid anymore,” he says, voice dropping. “i know what i want. and i want you.”

you laugh again, reaching up to ruffle his hair like you did when he was eight. “you’re so funny. always teasing your old babysitter.”

satoru catches your wrist gently but firmly, holding it against his chest so you can feel how fast his heart is racing. his blue eyes burn into yours.

“i’m not teasing.”

for a second you pause. but then you smile again. “you’ll find a nice girl soon. i promise.”

he lets you go, watching you walk away to help his mom again. his cock is half-hard in his pants just from being close to you. the frustration is driving him insane.

every time you treat him like the child he used to be, it only makes him want to ruin you more. to prove how much of a man he is by fucking you so deep you forget you ever saw him as anything but yours.

satoru leans against the counter, eyes dark and hungry as he watches you move around the kitchen. he stays there until he can’t take it anymore, then pushes off the counter and heads upstairs to his room without a word.

the second his door clicks shut, he’s already palming himself through his pants. he frees his aching cock and starts stroking, hoping that you’ll take the garden path home like you usually do so you’ll walk right past his window and hear the wet sound of his hand pumping his cock and the moans he doesn’t even try to hide because he wants you to know. he wants you to hear exactly what you do to him.

a few days later, satoru comes back from a late training session when he cuts through the side yard like he always does. your bedroom curtain is pulled mostly closed, but there’s a gap—just enough, and he stops dead. through the narrow opening he sees you.

you’re on top, completely naked, riding your stupid boyfriend with slow rolls of your hips. your head is tilted back, lips parted, hands braced on his chest. the moonlight catches the curve of your breasts, the way they bounce every time you sink down. your boyfriend’s hands are on your waist, guiding you, but his thrusts look lazy.

satoru’s mouth goes dry.

he should look away. he knows he should. but he can’t. his cock hardens instantly, straining against his pants as he watches you move. you look so pretty like this—flushed, glowing, lost in pleasure. but something ugly twists in his chest because it’s not him underneath you. he wants to be him so fucking bad.

before he can think, satoru slips behind the bushes, hidden in the shadows. his hand shoves into his pants, wrapping around his aching cock. he strokes himself in time with your movements, eyes locked on the way your body rises and falls. every soft moan that drifts through the cracked window makes him leak.

“fuck… you should be riding me,” he whispers. his fist moves faster, thumb swiping over the head as he imagines it’s your tight, wet heat instead. he pictures grabbing your hips, slamming you down on his much bigger cock, making you scream his name instead of whatever soft sounds you’re making now.

he cums hard, biting his lip to stay quiet, painting his hand while watching you chase your own pleasure. the sight of you cumming—back arching, mouth open in a silent cry—pushes him over the edge again. he milks himself through it, thick, messy spurts flooding into his boxers and soaking through his pants. after the orgasm fades and reality came back he stares down at the dark wet patch on the front of his sweatpants.

later that night he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, still half-hard while his damp pants he cleaned in a hurry so his mom wouldn’t notice, dry on the back of his chair in his room. that loser didn’t even make you cum properly. satoru could tell.

your moans were pretty, but not desperate enough. your body moved like you were doing most of the work. he knows he would be so much better for you. he would flip you over, pin you down, and fuck you so deep and so good you’d forget any other man existed. he’d make you cum until you cried, until your legs shook, until you begged him to fill you up. he’d treat you like the goddess you are instead of some half-assed ride.

the jealousy burns hotter than the lust now. you still see him as the little kid you babysat. you have a boyfriend who can’t even make you cum right, and you smile at satoru like he’s harmless.

it makes him insane.

the next afternoon he sees you working in the garden.

you’re kneeling in the flowerbed next door, wearing those same old shorts that ride up your thighs and a loose tank top, hair tied back messily as you dig around the roses. the sun makes your skin glow. satoru leans against the wooden fence that separates your yards, arms crossed over his chest, watching you in silence for a long moment. his eyes trace the curve of your back, the way your shorts cling when you shift, the soft bounce of your breasts every time you reach forward.

his cock twitches at the memory of last night—you riding that loser, the way your body moved, the sounds you made. he still feels a little ashamed about cumming in his pants like a desperate pervert, but the hunger is stronger.

finally he speaks, voice casual but laced with something darker.

“had a good night?”

you look up, brushing dirt off your hands, and give him that same bright, innocent smile you always do. “oh, hey satoru. yeah, it was alright. why do you ask?”

he shrugs, but his blue eyes are intense behind his sunglasses. “just curious. you seemed… busy.”

you laugh softly, standing up and stretching. the hem of your tank top rides up, showing a sliver of skin, and satoru’s gaze drops there instantly.

“nothing special,” you say. “just hung out with my boyfriend. watched a movie, you know how it is.”

satoru’s jaw tightens. he wants to tell you that “hung out” clearly wasn’t enough if you weren’t even satisfied. instead he flashes his usual grin and leans further over the fence.

“movie, huh? sounds boring. you deserve better than boring.”

you tilt your head, amused. “are you offering to entertain me now, little satoru?”

there it is again. little satoru.

the nickname stings worse than usual after what he saw last night. he wants to vault over the fence, push you down into the dirt, and fuck you right there in the garden until you scream his name instead of calling him little anything.

“i could entertain you way better than a movie,” he says. “just say the word.”

you chuckle and wave him off, going back to your flowers like he’s still the kid you used to babysit. “you’re such a flirt these days. go find a girl your own age.”

satoru stays leaning against the fence, watching you work, heart pounding and cock half-hard again. the frustration coils tighter in his chest. one day you’ll stop seeing him as the little boy next door. one day he’ll make you see exactly how much he’s grown—preferably while he’s buried nine inches deep inside you.

as you lean down deeper to reach a stubborn weed, your loose tank top slips forward. satoru catches a clear view of your tits—soft, full, and perfect, nipples just barely hidden by the thin fabric. the sight hits him like a punch to the gut.

his cock instantly swells, painfully hard again in seconds.

he can’t tear his eyes away. he imagines pulling your top down completely, watching those pretty tits spill out into his hands. he wants to grope them, squeeze them, bury his face between them while he fucks you. he wants to suck on your nipples until they’re swollen and sensitive, until you’re whimpering and arching into his mouth.

the urge to take a picture is so strong it almost hurts. he wants to save this view forever—the way your tits hang and sway as you work, the soft curve of them, the way they move when you shift. his fingers twitch at his side, desperate to grab his phone, but he forces himself to stay still.

he can’t. not without risking everything.

instead, he just stares, breathing hard through his nose, cock throbbing angrily in his pants as fantasies flood his mind. he wants to cover them in his cum. he wants to watch them bounce while you ride him. he wants to mark them as his.

he can’t take it anymore. muttering a quick excuse, he turns and practically runs inside his house. he doesn’t even make it up the stairs to his bedroom this time. the second he’s inside the downstairs bathroom, he locks the door, yanks his pants down, and wraps his hand around his throbbing cock.

he strokes himself furiously, leaning against the sink, replaying the image of your tits spilling out of your top and the memory of you riding your boyfriend. it only takes him a minute before he cums hard again, biting his arm to stay quiet as thick ropes paint the sink.

panting, flushed, and still half-hard, satoru stares at his reflection. he knows he’s completely fucked. but he also knows he won’t stop until you finally see him the way he sees you. lucky him, it didn’t take long for the next opportunity to arise.

the next time you come over, it’s to help with groceries like always.

satoru’s mom is out running errands, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. you’re putting things away, humming softly, completely unaware of the way satoru is watching you. he’s done playing nice. the images from the garden and that night through the window have been burning in his brain for days. he’s tired of being “cute little satoru.”

you reach for the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes, trying to slide a heavy bag of rice into place and your shorts pull tight across your ass.

“here, let me help,” satoru says.

he steps right behind you before you can protest. his tall frame cages you against the counter, one arm reaching easily over your head to push the bag into place. but he doesn’t step back. instead, he presses forward, letting you feel every inch of his hard cock against your ass through his sweatpants.

you freeze. “satoru…?”

he doesn’t move away. if anything, he presses closer, rolling his hips just enough for you to feel how thick and heavy he is. his breath is hot against your ear.

“you feel that?” he murmurs. “that’s what you do to me. every time i see you. every time you smile at me like i’m still that little kid.”

his hands slide down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he grinds slowly against you. the hard line of his cock nestles perfectly between your cheeks, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“i’m not a kid anymore,” he continues, lips brushing your ear. “i’ve been jerking off to you for months. thinking about bending you over this counter and fucking you. thinking about how much better i’d be than that useless boyfriend of yours.”

you try to turn around, but he keeps you pinned, chest pressed to your back.

“satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not joking.” his voice drops even lower, more aggressive. one hand slides up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “i saw you riding him the other night. through your window. he couldn’t even make you cum properly, could he? i would. i’d fuck you so good.”

he rolls his hips again, letting you feel how hard he is, how big. his cock twitches against you, desperate and leaking.

“tell me to stop and i will,” he whispers, even as his grip tightens possessively. “but i think you feel it too. how much i want you. how much better i can make you feel.”

you’re breathing faster now, trapped between the counter and his tall, muscular body. satoru leans down, lips grazing your neck. “let me show you. just once. i’ll make you cum so many times you’ll be begging for more.”

you’re breathing faster now, trapped between the counter and his tall, muscular body. satoru doesn’t wait for a clear answer. he rolls his hips forward again, slower this time, deliberately dragging the thick ridge of his cock against your ass through your thin shorts.

a shaky breath escapes you and he feels it—the way your body tenses then softens just a little. encouraged, he does it again, pressing harder, grinding his clothed cock between your cheeks in slow rolls. the friction is maddening. even through two layers of fabric, you can feel how hot and heavy he is, how big.

“satoru…” your voice comes out breathless.

“shh,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin. “just feel me.”

his hands tighten on your waist, holding you still as he starts dry humping you properly. long, deliberate thrusts that slide his hard length up and down between your ass cheeks. every roll makes your shorts ride up further, the fabric catching and pulling against your pussy. you can feel yourself getting wet, your body reacting even though your mind is still spinning.

satoru groans softly, forehead pressed to the back of your head. “fuck… you feel so good. been dreaming about this for so long.”

he picks up the pace a little, hips snapping forward with more urgency. the kitchen is quiet except for your shared heavy breathing and the faint rustle of clothes. you grip the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white, trying to steady yourself as heat pools low in your belly.

“you’re getting wet, aren’t you?” he whispers. one of his hands slides down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. “i can feel how warm you are. your body knows i’d be better.”

you bite your lip, a soft, involuntary whimper slipping out as he grinds particularly hard against you. the pressure on your clit through the fabric is driving you crazy. your breathing is turning faster, chest rising and falling quickly.

satoru notices immediately. a pleased sound rumbles in his chest.

“that’s it… getting breathless for me already?” he teases, but his voice is strained. he rolls his hips in a slow circle, pressing his cock right against your clothed entrance. “good girl. let me hear those pretty sounds.”

he keeps grinding harder, faster, like he’s trying to fuck you through your clothes. every thrust makes your tits bounce slightly and pulls another shaky breath from your lips. you’re starting to push back against him without thinking, chasing the friction.

satoru’s hand finally slips under your tank top, palm hot against your bare stomach.

“tell me to stop,” he rasps, lips against your neck, “or tell me to keep going. because if you don’t… i’m not gonna be able to hold back much longer.”

you’re panting now, head spinning, body burning under his aggressive touch. satoru keeps grinding against you like he’s possessed, cock throbbing against your ass, waiting for you to decide how far this is going to go.

“satoru… we can’t.” your fingers dig harder into the counter, knees feeling weak. “this is wrong… you’re—you’re basically still my—”

“we can,” he cuts you off. “we definitely can. and we’re going to.”

before you can protest again, his hand leaves your waist. you hear the metallic clink of his belt buckle, the sound of his zipper being dragged down. your heart hammers wildly as he frees his cock. it’s heavy and hot as it springs out, slapping against your ass cheek. he’s so hard it looks painful, the tip already leaking.

“feel what you do to me,” he murmurs, pressing the thick length against you again, this time with nothing but your thin shorts and panties between you.

his fingers hook into the side of your shorts and panties, tugging them just enough to the side. cool air hits your soaked pussy for a second before he slides his bare cock along your drenched folds. the hot, velvety length glides up and down your slick lips, parting them slightly with every slow stroke but never pushing inside.

you let out a broken whimper, forehead dropping against the cabinet door.

“fuck… you’re soaked,” satoru groans. he rocks his hips, sliding his cock repeatedly between your folds, coating himself in your wetness. the head catches on your clit with every pass, sending sparks shooting through you. “all this for me? and you still tried to say we can’t?”

he keeps the teasing motion going—long, deliberate slides from your entrance up to your clit and back down. every time the thick head nudges against your hole, you clench around nothing, aching to be filled. your breathing is ragged, little gasps and moans slipping out despite yourself.

satoru’s free hand comes back to your hip, holding you steady as he grinds his bare cock against your dripping pussy.

“see? we can. and it feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? just imagine how much better it’ll feel when i finally slide inside you.”

he presses forward a little harder, the head of his cock dipping just slightly against your entrance before sliding back up, teasing mercilessly. you’re trembling, breathless, torn between pushing him away and pushing back for more.

“tell me to stop… or tell me you want it. because i’m this close to bending you over and fucking you right here on the counter.”

finally, you break.

“…just the tip,” you whisper. “okay? just the tip, satoru. and don’t come inside me.”

the words barely leave your mouth before satoru groans like he’s been granted heaven. “fuck, yes. just the tip, baby. i promise.”

he lines himself up, the fat head of his cock pressing against your dripping entrance. he pushes forward slowly, and the stretch is immediate. only the tip slips inside you—just the swollen head breaching your tight walls. it’s enough to make both of you lose your minds.

“oh my god…” you gasp, fingers scrabbling against the counter. the feeling of him inside you, even just that little bit, is overwhelming. he’s so thick.

satoru’s forehead drops to your shoulder. “fuck… you’re so tight. so fucking warm. just the tip feels this good?”

he rocks his hips in tiny, shallow movements, fucking just the head in and out of you. every shallow thrust makes wet, obscene sounds echo in the quiet kitchen. he doesn’t push any deeper, but the way he’s teasing your entrance is driving you insane. the constant stretch and release has your walls fluttering around his tip, trying to pull him in further.

“satoru…” you whimper, pushing back against him despite yourself.

“i know, i know,” he pants. “just the tip. i’m being good. but fuck, baby… you’re sucking me in. your pussy wants more, doesn’t it?”

he keeps it like this—shallow little thrusts that only give you the head, never more. it’s torture. for both of you. satoru’s hands grip your hips so tightly you know you’ll have bruises. his breathing is harsh against your neck as he fights every instinct to slam all the way in.

“you feel so perfect,” he groans, circling his hips so the head rubs against that sensitive spot inside you. “i could cum just like this.”

you’re moaning softly now, completely breathless, knees shaking. the denial is making everything more intense. every shallow thrust sends sparks through your body, but it’s not enough. you need more, but you’re scared to ask.

satoru’s control is hanging by a thread. his cock twitches inside you, leaking precum, and he has to bite back a whine. then his hands slide up under your tank top, pushing it up until your breasts spill free. he immediately gropes them, one large hand squeezing and kneading your soft tits while his thumbs flick over your hardened nipples.

“mmh— satoru…” you moan, pushing back against him desperately.

he chuckles against your neck, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you gasp. “what’s wrong, baby? your loser boyfriend doesn’t play with these pretty tits like this? doesn’t know how sensitive you are here?” he rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging them while still fucking you with only the tip of his cock. every shallow thrust makes you clench greedily around his head, but it’s never enough.

“bet he doesn’t even make you wet like this,” satoru says, voice dripping with arrogance as he squeezes your breasts harder. “bet he fucks you like a pathetic little boy and still can’t make you cum. that’s why you’re dripping down my cock right now, isn’t it?”

you whimper helplessly, forehead pressed against the cabinet, hips trying to push back to take more of him. but satoru keeps perfect control—only giving you the tip, no matter how much you beg with your body.

“say it,” he murmurs, biting your shoulder lightly while still playing with your tits. “tell me his dick isn’t enough for you. tell me you need mine.”

he punctuates his words with another shallow thrust, the head of his cock catching perfectly against that spot right at your entrance. your moan comes out broken and needy.

“satoru… please—”

“please what? please fuck you properly? or please keep teasing this desperate little pussy until you’re crying for me?” then, just to torture you more, satoru pushes in a little deeper—only an extra inch, but it’s enough.

you cry out sharply, the sudden stretch pulling a broken, needy sound from your throat. your body reacts on instinct, pushing back against him desperately, trying to take more of his thick cock.

“greedy girl… you said just the tip, but look at you pushing back like you want me to ruin you.”

he gives you another shallow thrust, still not going all the way in, but deeper than before. you whimper pathetically, hips rocking back against him again, chasing the feeling. your pussy clenches hard around him, dripping down his length.

“fuck, you really want it, don’t you?” he laughs breathlessly against your ear “you want your former babysitting kid to fuck you stupid—”

the front door suddenly swings open.

“satoru? i’m back early—”

his mom’s voice cuts through the air like ice water.

you both freeze.

satoru reacts instantly, pulling out of you and yanking your tank top back down to cover your chest. he quickly tucks himself back into his pants, heart hammering. you’re still pressed against the counter, legs shaking, face burning with embarrassment as you try to fix your shorts.

his mom stands in the doorway only seconds later, holding grocery bags, blinking at the two of you.

satoru clears his throat, somehow managing to sound almost normal. “hey mom. we were just… putting the groceries away.”

you nod quickly, too mortified to speak, cheeks flaming red. your thighs are still trembling, pussy aching from being left empty and dripping.

his mom narrows her eyes slightly, suspicious. “hm. well, don’t make a mess in here.”

she sets the bags down and walks further into the kitchen, completely unaware of how close she came to catching her son balls-deep inside you.

satoru glances at you, eyes still dark. he leans in close while his mom’s back is turned, whispering hotly against your ear: “this isn’t over. next time i’m not stopping until you’re creaming all over my cock.”

you shiver, pressing your thighs together as you try to calm your racing heart.

He lets out a huff of a laugh then looks down at you with a lazy smirk. His chest’s rising and falling in a steady rhythm that mocks your ragged gasps. You’re throwing your entire weight into him, and it barely registers as a nuisance.

“Baby are you serious? A sumo wrestler? That’s harsh, I’m definitely more aerodynamic than that.” he murmurs, playfully whilst continuing to watch you struggle against his solid frame with a look of secret amusement. “C’mon. Put your back into it, I’m barely even trying y’know?”

He sounds too pleased with himself. Your brows pinch together, jaw tightening as your teeth grind in contained irritation. This was your idea, but your competitive streak is now insisting this was, in fact, a bad idea. Frankly, it’s the tone you can’t stand, speaks like he’s graciously humoring a toddler. You want to hurt him. Or, failing that, at least remind him that gravity is supposed to apply to him, too.

So, you move. You hook your arms around him, your legs following suit as you try to wrench the momentum and roll him. For a split second, he shifts—and there is hope—then his hand, massive and quick, snaps around your ankles mid-air and hope is fleeting.

He forces your legs up and back, folding you like a pretzel until your heels are practically tucked behind your ears. It’s a position you’ve been put in many times, but not outside of the bedroom. It makes your skin crawl with heat. You’re exposed, crotch pressed into his. Your tight athletic shorts cling to your puffy folds and offer zero protection from the pressure of him.

“Okay, Satoru, what the fuck?” you choke out, blood rushing to your head.

“Shit reflex,” he laughs, sending a vibration through your trapped body. His crystalline eyes are dark, tracing the way you’re pinned underneath him. “My bad, baby.”

“You’re a dick. Let go.”

Naturally, he ignores you entirely and does the opposite with an infuriating grin that has him looking way too attractive for someone being this much of a prick.

“How about in a couple seconds, hm?”, His grip on you tightens and he hitches his hips forward, growing cock rubbing right against your clothed-cunt, “She feels soft. Haven’t rubbed up on her like this in a while, miss it.”

You look up and his white hair’s disheveled from and there’s a deep flush on the tips of his ears. He’s so pretty. It sucks how that face lets him get away with being such a degenerate.

“Fine,” you breathe out, the word caught in your throat. “Just make it quick. My legs are gonna cramp if you keep me locked like this.”

You don’t need to tell him twice ‘cuz he’s already humping into your pussy like an animal in heat. His sweats are thick, but they do nothing to hide the rock-hard length of him. Each time he drives his hips home, he’s grazing your clit through the dampening layers. He’s got your pretty pussy leaking like a broken faucet—slick patch spreading on the fabric. Each blunt shove against your folds drags a broken, messy string of moans out of you that you can't even try to swallow.

“Shit, feels so good,” he groans into your ear, body getting heavier, slumping on top of you, “we…fuck—we should play fight more often. Yeah? How’s that sound?”

He presses his mouth against yours, tasting like fruity flavored gum and sweets. You’re swallowing his moans, your own breath hitching as he keeps up his bruising pace. Then one final, harsh shove and he goes rigid. His eyes go semi-wide, pupils blown out and unfocused, fixed on nothing as his brain shorts out. Before you realize there’s already a heavy dampness flooding the space between you, white stringy liquid soaking through the fabric of his sweats and bleeding right into your own clothes.

He doesn't move for a long minute, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Then, slowly, he lifts his head and lets out a long exhale, his chests heaving and his signature smirk replaced by a look of daze.

"Well," he rasps, a lazy, lopsided grin slowly pulling at his mouth. "Think I’ll give you the win on that one. Though, you're a mess, babe. Completely soaked."

He pulls back just an inch, cartoonishly blue eyes tracking the damp mess of your shorts, "Pretty sure you're gonna need a shower to get all that off you.” He pauses, smiling at you cat-like, “Want to go see if I can fit in there with you? I promise to help with the hard-to-reach spots."

+ another dry humping post act shocked. ty sichee 4 proofreading @ouist

yuta’s shamefully always thought about these things— even when you were both just on best friend status. but it’s harder now, much harder for him to behave because he doesn’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. he respects you so much and always treats you like pretty porcelain glass, delicately running his hands over your body and soft face when you share a kiss or an embrace.

so now whenever he feels his heart pounding against his chest, face boiling red, and the all too familiar feeling of the lower region of his pants maybe getting a little too tight because of you, he immediately removes himself from the situation to prevent from spazzing out.

the bad thing was— this happened practically every single day and nearly every other hour, to the point where it was blatantly obvious and you were completely and utterly confused as to why.

every time you stand up on your tippy toes to give him a sugary kiss, arms wrapped around his neck and yuta’s arms around your waist, the makeout doesn’t last for more than thirty seconds before he’s pulling apart from your lips with a smack!, walking away with his head down, hands tight at his sides, and with a lame excuse for his abrupt leave.

every time you accidentally drop something and bend over to retrieve it with yuta standing directly behind you— when you come back up and turn your head to face him, he’s already staring back at you with wide eyes, lips pressed into a thin line and cheeks flushed pink. you’d ask then if he was okay, to which he would respond by a quick nod of the head and a dash out of the room to leave for a moment… again.

he did it so much to the point where he eventually avoided touching you all together, and you absolutely hated it. yuta’s always been affectionate with you, he’s never not touched you, and on a day where you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him on his bed, eager to show him a little loving and a smooch— you had just about had it when he placed his hands on your hips as you were trailing your mouth down his neck, physically pulling you off his lap and leaving the room— muttering about god knows what.

until you noticed.

you and yuta were seated on your living room couch watching a movie, the both of you dozing off gingerly as his head was resting against your shoulder, undoubtedly exhausted after a days worth of college classes and homework.

you went to place a sleepy hand on his upper thigh, about to tell him that you both should move upstairs to your room and sleep, but when your fingers accidentally grazed his crotch area, yuta shot up like a light and startled you awake— eyes blown wide and frantic.

“whatareyoudoing—”

“yu! my god—” you placed a hand over your heart, chest heaving. “i was just gonna tell you that we should go up to my room and sleep.”

yuta’s shoulders visibly dropped, and he closed his eyes momentarily before licking his lips, exhaling deeply.

“h-oh my god—“ he opened his eyes again after regulating his breathing and looked at you with worried eyes. “fuck i’m sorry baby… did i scare you?”

you gave him a little nod and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders then, kissing your cheek and the side of your head apologetically. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did that.”

but you did, and it was like a switch had gone off in your head, everything finally making sense.

every moment he would suddenly leave, or remove you from him when you tried anything, or every expression and reaction he made when you would wear something tight or short, all fell into place like a delicious puzzle piece.

so when he lead you to bed and cuddled you up innocently to sleep that night, you came up with a plan to test this theory.

you wanted yuta to crack.

unfortunately, your first attempt was a fail.

yuta had plans to take you out on a little summer picnic date by the beach, and when he arrived at your house and you texted him to come in and make himself at home in your room, you were absolutely giddy, fixing your dress and applying the finishing touches to your makeup in the bathroom.

you had slipped on a long, skin tight black spandex dress for the day— one that hugged every inch and crevice of your body like a vice, a mischievous look in your eyes as you ran your fingers through your styled hair before leaving, practically skipping down the hall back to your room.

the minute you came in, yuta’s eyes flew open.

“hi baby!” you greeted sweetly, walking over to where he sat at the edge of your bed and leaned down, planting a soft kiss to his blushing cheek.

score.

“h-hi.”

“do you like it?” you asked eagerly, doing a little twirl for him and mentally making sure to pop your ass out a little more in his direction. “i bought it just yesterday!”

“i.. i do, baby.” he squeaked, voice hoarse and mind in a full blown fucking panic when you took his hands in yours and ushered him to stand.

but he remained stiff as a board, arms glued to his sides and hands in tight fists as he looked at you, face strained.

you playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands, guiding them towards you. “you can touch me, silly. here— feel the spandex-”

and you purposely dropped his hands to land right on your ass with a smack.

yuta immediately inhaled sharply through his nose and choked, his face dropping straight into the crook of your neck to hide his delirious expression. yuta was biting the inside of his cheek so unbelievably hard that he tasted metal, his eyes squeezing shut as nasty thoughts flashed through his mind like a forest fire.

holy shit holy shit holy shit—

“f..feels nice,” he muttered into your neck, and you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your lips up to his ear.

“does it?”

you felt yuta giving in and slowly squeeze the plump of your ass, and he felt like an absolute fucking monster at the way he was feeling you up when in his eyes, you were just innocently showing him your pretty little long dress.

but just when you thought you had won, your smile wide with delight, he tore away from you and excused himself from the room with a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving you dumbfounded and defeated.

on your second attempt, you refused to accept defeat and planned more diligently than before, his tiny mess up from last time motivating and proving to you that your plan could bear fruit.

this day was particularly scorching, one of the hottest days of the year as you and yuta decided to get ice cream after one of his lectures from a shop down the street, an attempt at cooling off and escaping the heat.

you were sitting on a cute bench under shade just outside the shop as you waited for your boyfriend to come back, nervous and wearing a low cut baby doll top that showed a little more boob than you originally intended, but due to the circumstance at hand… the more the merrier!

after a few minutes, the door to the shop chimed open and yuta stepped out— two vanilla ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles delectably adorning the pair of soft serves in his hands. he carefully handed one to you and grinned.

“here baby.”

you took a cone from his offering hand gratefully and licked a little off it as he sat down.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly, and it made his heart skip a beat as you both sat there, enjoying the summer heat and each others gentle company.

without yuta noticing though, you had stopped licking your ice cream as he chatted to you about the things he had to do for the coming week, attentively listening to him as you patiently waited— the vanilla soft serve glistening under the heat and slowly melting, droplets oozing off the sides until one landed right on your tit.

score.

“oh!” you gasped, looking down and pouting, “i spilled someee.”

yuta quickly reached to the side and pulled out a napkin he had brought from the shop, extending it out towards you but faltering when you shook your head frantically.

“no! it’ll go to waste! and i can’t reach down and lick it off myself…” you huffed and looked at him with the cutest face he had ever seen you make… you smirking deviously on the inside. “can you lick it off for me, yu? please.”

you had said it so nonchalant, so casual like it was the easiest most normal thing in the world to do, but it had yuta’s body and mind freezing over as you scooted closer to him, waiting.

“h— huh?” he stammered, unable to take his eyes away from your tits, the sight of ice cream drooling down over them an image he wanted to tattoo behind his eyelids to look at forever— his cheeks bright pink.

“hurry! it’s gonna stain my top,” you whined, putting a hand on his shoulder as yuta let you tug him down, him ogling and literally gawking over your chest.

without another thought, yuta stuck his slick tongue out and slowly ran it over the top of your puffy tit just like you had asked him to, the angel on his shoulder screaming at him to stop as his tongue continued to trail up your chest and around your neck, your breath hitching in surprise.

the sound of your reaction broke him out of his trance and he flinched away from you, chest heaving and pupils blown out with the biggest pit of shame in his stomach, feeling like a fucking pervert.

but you, your shoulders evidently deflated in disappointment as you pressed your thighs together, trying to mend the buzzing ache between your legs as your mind thought over and over about what he did, something you didn’t expect at all, and something you wanted him to do again.

“let’s… let’s go for a walk, yeah?” yuta spoke quickly and gently to you, taking your hand that was on his shoulder and pulling you up off the bench, him confused as to why you had a frown on your face.

but for the third and final attempt, you were utterly and hopelessly desperate. every time you guys hung out, yuta was still the absolute sweetest and did everything he could to make you happy, yet he still just wouldn’t touch you, and it was driving you fucking crazy.

you were getting reckless at this point, your pent up sexual frustration sky rocketing with every passing day, but you were completely oblivious to the fact that yuta was dealing with the same form of torture.

except way, way worse.

it’s gotten to the point where just the sound of your sweet sugary voice over the speakers of his phone has him biting down on the edges of his pillow, arms wrapped tightly around himself and his body curled up into a pathetic ball of despair, his dick rock solid and his mind filled with thoughts that consisted of strictly just you.

so when you called him up and asked if he wanted to come with you to one of your girl friend’s parties, yuta knew he was one hundred percent fucked.

he wanted to keep respecting you. he wanted you to know how special you were to him and how serious he was about your relationship with him, and he sure as hell did not want you to feel uncomfortable because he was a horny piece of shit that didn’t know self control and wanted to have sex every five minutes.

except he was a horny piece of shit, has always been one over you, and yuta knew the second he saw you dolled up in your pretty little dress looking absolutely lethal, he was going to lose it.

and he did.

with his arms crossed over his chest and a tight hand over his mouth, he nodded and hummed out a series of “mhm’s” at everything you were saying as you finished up getting ready, his eyebrows pinched together in complete agony at the sight of you.

the pastel green glittery dress you had on was so criminally short that any inch of movement you made, the bottom of your ass cheeks would peak out from below the hem of your dress.

he slightly lowered his hand from his mouth. “baby?”

“yeah?” you responded softly and turned your body to face him, spritzing your vanilla coconut perfume over your frame.

“i-isn’t your dress— a little short?”

you put the perfume bottle down on your vanity desk and looked down, internally giddy that he noticed the length, your plan coming into fruition.

score.

“oh is it?” you tugged at the hem of your dress, scooting it back down. “does it look bad? i—”

“no no!” yuta’s hands shot out frantically as he shook his head. “you’re so so pretty baby, the most gorgeous little thing i’ve ever seen,” he took a few steps toward you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, being mindful of your perfectly styled hair that made him weak in the knees. “i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night and not enjoy yourself.”

your heart melted at his words and consideration as you smiled warmly, eyes sparkling up as you gave him a cute peck on the lips and hugged him back, “you’re so nice to me, yu.”

yuta snorted but looked down at you fondly. “that’s the bare minimum baby.”

“so.” you peeled away from him and walked over to the bed to pick up your purse, swinging the strap over your shoulder. “all i do is make you ham sandwiches after your soccer practices.”

yuta laughed loudly, “that’s all you do?”

“yup!”

he nudged your shoulder playfully with his, a grin on his face as he walked down the stairs with you and out the door to his car.

“brat.”

at the party, your plan was to be as devilish and flashy as possible, showing off every curve and angle of your body to your boyfriend in means of getting him to crack, and your ticket there was the length of your dress—

but more specifically?

what you had on underneath.

when you met up with the rest of your friend group that were all residing on the long lounge sofa in the living room like always, you grabbed yuta’s hand and led him over to join the rest of them. he politely greeted each and every one, keeping you close by the hip before you both settled down on the couch.

yuta wasn’t a big party person like you were, but he also didn’t particularly dislike them either. as long as you were there with him, he always ended up getting shit faced and having the time of his life with you and your friends, something that didn’t even happen when he went to parties with his own friends.

your closest girl friend that sat across from you at an angle turned her body, yelling over the music. “have you tried this?!”

she pointed to the red solo cup in her hand, and you shook your head.

“no! what is it?!”

“someone from the frat next door made a mix of malibu and pineapple rum! it’s really good here!-”

she reached over and offered her cup, and as soon as you stood to retrieve it, an idea popped into your head— eyes widening. without another thought, you moved over to stand right in front of yuta before fully and erotically bending and lunging over to reach for the cup.

he stopped breathing. he looked at the way your dress rode up literally half way up your ass and he stopped breathing.

it was so unbelievably high up that he saw the color of your underwear— a lacy black pair with little bows adorned over the sides like a present, slightly see through but enough to see the outline of your lower lips.

yuta clasped a tight hand over his mouth, but as soon as that happened he realized that whatever he was seeing, everybody else was seeing as well. including that stupid moron that had been staring at you since the moment you both got here.

in record time his trembling arms shot out and yuta grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it back down over your ass as he wrapped an arm around your waist tightly, pulling you back to sit on his lap.

you loved that he did that, but as you sipped the drink and chatted on with your friends, you were entirely unaware of the way yuta’s arms were gripped around your waist like a lock, his forehead resting on your back with his face hidden.

yuta felt like an absolute fucking freak again as the image of your puffy lower lips outlining your lacy panties flicked over and over and over again in his mind without a break. he felt so nasty, so shameful and so hard as he tried with all of his will power to calm his breathing and stop the bouncing of his right knee, eyes screwed tight.

holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck—

he needed you so badly, needed to slip that skimpy dress off of you and bury his face in between your legs, needed to slip his swollen dick out and grope your tits and pump his—

shut up shut up shut up—

at the feeling of his leg bouncing rapidly, you looked back and slightly turned yourself, confused at the sight of his hung head that was refusing to detach from your body and look at you properly.

you placed a gentle hand at the top of his head, the feeling of his silky black hair underneath your fingers. “yu?—”

his head snapped up straightaway, and your eyes widened as you took in the way his chest was heaving and his pupils were blown out, face completely red and his body practically shivering beneath you.

you frowned, “baby? are you okay?”

you shifted once more to assess him better, but his eyes only shot back down to your ass as he felt your dress rise up again.

such pretty bows…

yuta smashed his face in against your side, eyes screwed shut.

calm down calm down calm down—

it was almost completely dark in the frat house, colors of red and blue and green bouncing across the walls of the lower level as people drank and made havoc, your friends all caught up in their own inebriated worlds to realize what was happening between the both of you.

and at the feeling of his hardened cock against your ass, you slowly smiled and finally understood— your hand coming up to stroke his cheek lovingly, the act simple and innocent, until you took his hand from your lap and agonizingly dragged it further up and up and up your thigh…

shit shit shit—

until you guided his shaking fingers to the patch of wet in between your parted thighs, the lace material up against the pads of his—

fuck it.

yuta pushed you off of his lap and stood, snatching your wrist tightly before tugging and dragging you away from the couch and through the mass of people on the dance floor.

“yuta!” you yelled over the music. “where are we going?”

you were so confused, and you worried that maybe you had pushed his buttons a little too far and that now he was upset, and judging by the way he didn’t even turn around or respond when you spoke to him, it looked like that might be the case.

you gnawed at your bottom lip in concern as he led you both up the stairs of the house— you focused on trying to keep your dress from riding completely up and him opening and closing several different doors before he found what he was looking for.

yuta dragged you in the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, his lips instantly latching onto your cheek, desperate wet open mouthed kisses dropping down to your neck and down to your chest as you gasped.

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—” he repeated like a chant, voice muffled by the way he was sucking on your neck like a little leech, his fingers looping themselves in the straps of your dress before pulling down and revealing your bare tits to him.

you were wholeheartedly gobsmacked at what he was doing and you were loving every single second of it, the way his wild eyes darted over your tits and his wet lips just about drooling over them.

“i’m gonna suck your tits,” his gaze shot back up to you, chest rising and falling. “okay baby?”

a fierce blush spread over your cheeks at his words, mentally cursing yourself for wanting this so bad but feeling bashful at the wrong freaking time.

you barely even nodded before he picked you up by the waist and set you down on the counter of the sink, his wet tongue darting across the plush of your breasts and pressing flat against your nipple, your breath hitching at the feeling.

yuta sucked and nipped feverishly at your nipples, getting them slick and slippery with his spit as he squeezed at your waist desperately, your pretty moans ringing through his ears making his bulge tighten and strain against the buckle of his belt.

he trailed his tongue back up to your neck and groped the fat of your ass with his hands, subconsciously rutting into your covered lips as he whined and groaned over the warmth of your pussy.

“i— i’m gonna cum in my pants if we keep going.” he puffed out, tone constricted as he looked at you with feral half lidded eyes.

you nodded quickly. “but i want you to, yu. inside me.”

yuta’s eyes blew wide open as he shook his head, and you felt the way his hands trembled while he gripped your hips.

“we— we can’t baby,” panting, he unwillingly pulled his bulge slightly apart from your warmth and looked at you sincerely. “i can’t do that to you—“

“do what?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side. “make love to me?”

“no— well, yes?” he dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder and placed his hands at the edge of the counter to support his weight, groaning.

“i don’t want you to think i’m taking advantage of you or— or not respecting you and i want you to know how serious i’m taking this relationship and—”

you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you, your voice sweet and soft. “who said that? i don’t think that at all yu, and i know you’re serious about us.. i wouldn’t be sitting on this counter with my tits out if you weren’t.”

yuta laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“you don’t wanna fuck me?” you whispered lewdly.

“trust me i do—”

“you don’t wanna see what kind of panties i have on under?” you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck. “you don’t want to maybe guess the color of my underwear?”

“oh i don’t have to guess baby,” he shook his head and grinned. “i know.”

yuta buried his face in your hair and inhaled, “has this been your plan all along pretty? to be a little slut for me and show off what you got going on down there?” he snapped his bulge back on your pussy so roughly that you jolted up by the sheer force. “to get me to fuck you? hm?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t respond by the way he was running and groping his hands deliciously all over your body as he spoke nasty to you. all you could do was moan stupidly.

“lucky for you, i’m just as guilty.”

he pulled your straps back over your shoulders then while sliding you off the counter, tugging the hem of your dress down over your ass before opening the door and leading you by the hand outside.

yuta ran through the halls opening and closing doors again, the both of you laughing when you would find other people fucking or making out, until he finally found an open vacant room with a bed and slammed the door closed, locking it.

his lips smashed against yours without another moment wasted, you unzipping and pulling your dress up and over yourself as he yanked his shirt off and threw it fuck knows where.

pushing you down gently on the bed, yuta took a step back to admire your perfect perfect body, the way your tits bounced with every movement you made, and the way that god forsaken lacy black underwear made you look as he just stood there and stared.

you cowered a little under his gaze, legs closing and arms crossing over your chest. “what?”

he shook his head. “i love you… so much.”

you smiled bright then, pearly whites on display as you watched him reach down and fumble with his belt frantically, sliding it off and pushing his pants down before kicking them away and hovering over you until you were both entirely bare.

yuta pressed honeyed wet kisses all the way down your body and in between your legs, shoving his face to your clothed pussy and inhaling your sweet scent, moaning as he did so.

he was so freakishly hard as he licked a long stripe up, the fabric rough and wet under his tongue as you squirmed and whined, impatient and bratty.

“you taste so sweet, baby.” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and spitting on your clit, his index finger running delicately and slowly over your meaty slimy folds.

“fuck—” you panted, carding your fingers through his hair. “more please—”

“more?” he hummed, watching at the way you shook and shivered with his every touch as he slobbered all over your pussy like a man starved.

it was so filthy, squelching and sloshes of his mean mouth bullying your clit as your fingers flew to grip the sheets beneath you.

“eek!” you squealed, your thighs closing tight around his head as he ate, his hands coming up to force them apart.

“let me eat.”

yuta gripped the fat of your plushy thighs as his sloppy tongue moved across your lips and pussy, coaxing your syrupy cunt to pulse and jump with each lick, a knot forming at the pit of your tummy.

“i— yu, i can’t—” you tried to run away from his mouth. “i’m gonna cum—”

but he only grabbed your hips and brought you back down roughly, his rolling tongue lapping up your juices before your entire body shook with erotic ecstasy, your thighs clamping shut as you squealed and creamed on his tongue.

“fuuuucckkk,” he dragged out, coming back up and sliding your absolutely drenched and ruined panties down your shaking legs, his mouth coated and shiny and covered in you.

yuta pumped his cock a few times, and that’s when you noticed just how big he was, packing a meaty punch that had your mouth watering and desperate.

you spread your legs again as he climbed over you, sliding his dick in between your messy sticky folds before lining his fat tip against your hole.

god, yuta’s body and dick were on fucking fire, his tip slowly nudging and slightly stretching you, a pathetic whine leaving his lips at the feeling of your perfect pussy that was entirely his to fuck, a dream he’s had and yearned over for what feels like an eternity.

“m’gonna put it in,” he choked, licking his lips as he tightly gripped your waist.

you eagerly nodded, spreading your legs even wider. “please, i want you to fill me up, yu.”

and with that, yuta slowly and deliciously stretched your little cunt open, his swollen dick pushing past your tight squeezing gummy walls until he bottomed out.

“f—fuck,” he swallowed thickly. “you gotta loosen up baby you’re milking me—”

your hands gripped at his arms for support as yuta gently pumped his cock, your pussy sucking him up like a yummy lollipop and trapping him inside. “i can’t yu…” you shook your head. “you’re too big—”

his glassy eyes darkened over at your words, and he picked up a brutal pace almost instantly.

“is this— hah— what you wanted?” he reached out and pinched your rosy cheek meanly, pounding into your puffy walls as you cried dumbly. “to fuck you dumb on my dick after teasing me like that downstairs? huh?”

your eyes squeezed shut, loud pornographic moans tumbling out of your throat as he fucked you like he hated you, your tits bouncing with every hit.

a series of pat pat pat’s bounced all over the walls as yuta buried his face into your neck, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he shoved his dick inside of you over and over and over again.

“i can— hah— barely move you’re sucking me, baby.” yuta hiccuped, his eyes welling with feral tears.

it felt good, way too good and he could hardly handle it, his heart racing against his chest as he watched you make slutty faces that only fueled his erotic agony.

he fucked you full into the mattress, setting an animalistic pace as the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly.

“s—slow down, yu!” you whined, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his tip hit your cervix without mercy, you on the verge of cumming and creaming all over his dick.

“no—” he shook his head and looked at you, your sweaty hot bodies sticking together. “m’sorry pretty i c—can’t—”

yuta hiccuped and whined and cried at the way your greedy pussy was milking him for all of his worth, his abs tensing at the familiar feeling of his release. the amount of times yuta fisted his cock to the thought of you like a pervert, just like this, spread out and pretty, didn’t even come close or compare to the real thing laying in front of him right now.

“m’gonna pull out, okay?” he muttered. “gonna cum—“

“nuh uh!” you whined, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist to keep him inside, your arms clutching his brooding shoulders. “i want you to dump it inside of me.”

“i— inside?!” he swallowed.

you nodded and smiled sweetly at him through your fucked out expression and puffy pouty lips, a sight he never ever wanted to forget in his life and keep the privilege of looking at every day, just for him.

yuta groaned again and shoved his face back into your neck, squishing your tits in his hands and holding on to them for dear life as you milked his cock, slamming his hips up to meet yours and you whimpering at how deliciously rough he was.

“mm— fuck!” you squealed as you felt yuta’s hot ropey cum shoot up your walls, bucket loads of it filling you to the brim as you felt your own orgasm wash over you, his hand pressing down against your lower tummy as he hiccuped against your neck.

you both grabbed on to each other as you tried to come down from your highs, your skin sticky and hot as his steamy breath fanned over your ear shakily, the booming of music downstairs shaking the walls a little and the sounds of footsteps walking down the halls filling your ears.

yuta gently peeled himself from you and slowly, delicately— pulled his dick out, his pupils dilating at the sight of his milky cum oozing out of you sluggishly.

his dizzy eyes flickered over to your dazed and tired face, smiling softly. “are you okay baby?”

you closed your eyes as he leaned down and brushed some of your hair away from your eyes, laughing a little. “yeah.”

“wait here—” he whispered before getting off the bed and walking over to what he assumed was the bathroom, retrieving a random towel.

coming back over, he tenderly spread your legs and cleaned you up, rubbing soothing circles into your ankles with his thumbs as he did so before plopping back down on the bed next to you, pulling you softly into his arms.

that was the first time you both had sex together, and as the fact registered into your head, you buried your face into his bare chest shyly.

“hm?” yuta looked down at you. “what, baby?”

“you’ve seen me naked now,” you muttered, voice faintly muffled.

he giggled lowly. “you’ve seen me naked now too.”

“your dick is big,” you leaned back a bit. “i can’t believe you’ve been keeping that thing hostage from me.”

yuta choked at your blunt statement and shook his head. “i’ve always wanted this baby, believe me.” he kissed your forehead and nuzzled his face into your neck. “i just didn’t want to disrespect you pretty so i just didn’t know if you wanted it like i did.”

“but i do—”

he laughed again, “i know you do, now i do.”

you smiled sheepishly as yuta caressed your back with his fingertips lovingly, feeling like he was at the gates of heaven with you in his arms after having shared something so intimate like that for the first time, something he only lived in his sleepy dreams prior to this moment.

“i love you, yu.” you mumbled against his chest, and his heart absolutely melted as he captured your lips in a sweet sweet kiss.

oh how he loved you, and the sight of your gorgeous naked body next to him, your breathtaking unreal face looking at him and only him with those eyes—

was something he wouldn’t trade for the world.

you forcibly expel the image away with a shake of your head.

“you wish,” you smack his arm a little too hard, and it has him groaning between a chuckle. ignoring the flush in your cheeks, you raise an eyebrow at him, “i still can't believe you offered to do this by the way.”

“i can’t believe you agreed,” he quips just as quickly and well…fair enough. because you couldn’t either.

satoru readjusts so he’s on his knees and dips his head, his eyes following the length of your body until they land right between your legs. 

you watch them dilate until only a thin ring of blue remains, and the longer he stares, the more heat rushes south. cool air feathers over your cunt and the achy tease of it, coupled with the weight of his rapt attention, have your legs trying to close again. 

satoru doesn't let you get far though. he grumbles his disapproval, freehand spanning over the plush flesh of your thigh and spreading you open again.

“don’t go shy on me now.”

your hips shift a little. “you’re staring.”

he huffs out a laugh, hand spasming over soft skin, “can you blame me?” he asks with a good helping of reverence and not a lick of denial in the question.  

his eyes never stray away and fuck, you don’t even think he’s blinking.

“almost want to take my time with how pretty she is,” his chest rises with a deep inhale, like he’s trying to breathe you in. “wet too.” 

one look at your face lets him know that you would walk out if he tried, and he has to stifle a grin. 

“maybe next time,” he decides, and when he sees you about to tell him there won't be a “next time”, he lifts the vibrator and presses the tip of it against your clit. 

and for someone who claimed it didn’t work, the effect it has on you is intense. your breath hitches, body bucking up, and he groans at the sight of your tits bouncing under your shirt. 

he nearly dropped to his knees in anguish when you refused to take it off, but the way your nipples stiffen under the fabric almost makes it worth it.

“oh shit,” the moan draws his attention away from your chest, and he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth at the fucked-out look on your face. 

satoru drags the silicone toy along your slit, and while glittery wetness immediately drenches it, it’s not nearly enough.

so he rears back and draws his cheeks in. when his lips part, a fat blob of spit splatters onto your clit. your hips pitch and the mess drips all the way down to your ass. 

satoru watches your head roll against your pillow. hair splaying out messily and eyes a little too glassy, “toru,”

“too pretty for your own good, ” he husks quietly. as if it was only meant for his ears.

he presses himself against your thigh. cock thick and hard as it strains under his jeans, and you clench around nothing. suddenly painfully empty. 

with how easy it is for satoru to map your reactions, someone would think this wasn’t the first time the two of you were doing this. it's like he can sense what you need long before you do. so, when your lips part to beg him for something your mind can barely string together, he's already nudging the vibrator against your entrance and slowly pushing it inside.

he pumps it in and out of you in deep, teasingly slow strokes that make it impossible to bite back your moans.

they sound embarrassing to your ears. all too high some moments and wavering into soundless gasps in others, but satoru clearly doesn't share the sentiment. he grinds his cock against your thigh harder, and it pulses with each sound that pours out your mouth. he feels them wash over his back and light up the base of his spine in a white-hot beam. 

“you’re so fucking hot,” the vibrator is turned up a couple notches, and you freeze when you feel it. 

you’re close.

a broken gasp escapes, then you react how you always do. 

you run from it. 

panicked and restless when your hips shift back and each pulse has you squirming.

you only get far enough to make an inch of the dildo slip out before a hand curls around your waist and holds you in place. 

“where are you going?” gojo tilts his head at you and you think his eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen them.

slowly, something clicks into place behind them, and a huff of laughter bubbles out. 

“wait…don’t tell me you're a runner,” he's so tickled you're tempted to hit him again. but it's impossible to do anything but jerk when he plunges the toy to the hilt again. “well shit, baby, no wonder you thought it was broken.” 

his eyes crinkle at the corners, and you would’ve found his wide grin cute if he didn't turn the intensity all the way up.

he lets the toy buzz inside of you and when you recoil, both hands grip your hips and swiftly tug you back.

“nuh uh, we can’t have you running away when you’re so close.”

“f-fuck, i can’t,” you whine. head shaking from side to side, and he coos. 

“of course you can, pretty,” satoru drapes his body over yours, one burly thigh snug between your legs to keep the toy in place. and to keep grinding against your soft thighs.

“you’re doing so much better already,” he murmurs quietly, hips already moving against you. “just need me to hold you down and make you take it, hm?”

he phrases that like a question but slants his lips over yours to muffle your answer. satoru groans into your mouth, tongue swirling around yours and teeth sinking into your bottom lip. 

your fingers twist into the sheets, clutching at them as if they would ground you. it proves useless because the filth coming out satoru’s mouth is clearly trying to leave you wrecked by the end of this.

“god, the sounds you make around fake cock,” he grunts against your jaw, hips shuttering for a moment before rutting harder. “should’ve—shit—just offered you the real thing.” 

arousal pools around the vibrator to drip down onto the sheets below and it takes everything to keep your eyes from rolling backwards.

“oh my god,” you whimper, and he licks up the seam of your lips.

“be a good girl and stop holding back. let yourself feel it,” your hips roll upwards and his chest rumbles with a sound that doesn’t even sound human anymore. “yeah, there you go, fuck yourself on it.” 

he was delirious. blabbering almost as much as you were, but at least he was halfway coherent. your limbs seal around him. legs coiling tight around his trim waist and hands sneaking under his shirt to scratch at his back. 

your nails must dig in a little too deeply because a hiss is punctured against your lips. you draw back, scared you hurt him, and he shakes his head. 

“do it again,” he pleads. palming your clothed tit. “like you mean it this time.” 

a shocked huff leaves you, “jesus, you’re insane.”

the unhinged laugh that echoes through your room only proves your point, but you oblige. your nails rake over his muscled back, and the sound he makes makes your clit pulse.

“oh, c’mon baby harder,” you cut into skin, and he chokes. “ah—fuck yes!”

satoru doesn’t bother holding himself up anymore. he just lets all his weight bear down on you, basically trapping you under him. 

he drops his head to the swell of your breast, and your back bows when he latches onto your nipple through your shirt, sucking it into his mouth and wetting the fabric. 

“cum for me,” he hums against the peak when you tense under him.

you have a brief moment of panic when your breath gets stuck somewhere in your chest. it wracks with a broken sob, and even when you go limp with your release, the vibrations between your legs don’t stop.

satoru shudders not long after you. moaning between your breasts while his cum makes a mess of his briefs. it spurts onto material in thick pulses and you swear you feel it on your skin. warm, sticky and sleek.

he stays on you for a second longer, then lifts himself onto his elbows so he doesn’t accidentally smother you. 

it’s only when he slides the vibrator out that air returns to your lungs. tension leaves your body and your spine loosens again.

your eyes flit over to him and they bulge when you see him raise the toy to his mouth. glossy lips wrapping around the silicone, as he sucks your arousal and cum off of it. 

the slurping noise he makes while he keeps his eyes on yours has liquid heat building up in your belly again, so intense it’s like you didn’t cum seconds ago. he releases it from his mouth with a pop and grins widely.

“see? works perfectly.”

you had a total psycho for a best friend, and whatever craze that infected him had to be spreading. because when he parts your legs again, murmuring something about making you squirt with round two…

you let him. 

art by @/thatsallitchief

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—join the taglist here!

note: hi this is a scheduled post. period cramps currently have me on my ass but i’ll be back online as soon as i can. lmk if you saw any errors okay? okay.

it’s hard for both of you. you can see the war raging behind his cerulean eyes, the way his gaze flickers from the desperate arch of your back to the highlighted text on the page.

satoru hates denying his pretty, wildly out-of-his-league girlfriend anything. but he’s also stubbornly, infuriatingly determined to see you pass this biochem exam.

he wants you to succeed, to prove that his brilliant girlfriend is more than just a pretty face. and you, right now, just want to feel him inside you.

“toru, please,” you whine, looping your arms around his neck, nuzzling the soft ivory hair at his nape. “my brain’s fried. we’ve been studying for hours. ‘m boreddd! i need a break.”

“a break is what got you a c- on your midterm,” he says, voice stern, though he doesn’t pull away from your touch. you can feel the tension in his shoulders, the way his muscles are coiled tight. “we’re almost through the unit. please focus”

“fuck the unit,” you murmur, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck. “fuck me. i want to be close to you”

he heaves a tortured groan, catching your wrist as your hand starts to drift down the front of his sweatpants. “not right now, baby”

“oh . . .i get it” you huff, pulling back. the rejection stings, even though you know it’s not personal. he just wants the best for you “you think i’m chopped.”

satoru’s head whips around, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion. “chopped? baby what are you talking about?”

“chopped,” you repeat, crossing your arms over your chest. “you know. like. . . unattractive . is that why you don’t want me? because you think i’m chopped?”

he just stares at you, his mouth slightly agape, expression shifting from confusion to utter disbelief.

“unattractive,” he says, propping his elbows on the textbook, completely abandoning the pretense of studying. “you think i find you unattractive.”

“well you’re not exactly jumping at the chance to touch me,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze.

he lets out a short, sharp laugh, completely devoid of humor. he grabs your hand, the one he’d just rejected, and slams it palm-down against his sweatpants. “does that feel like i think you’re unattractive?” he snaps

you shake your head, a quiet flustered breath escaping as you try to avoid eye contact.

“you think this is easy for me?” he murmurs, blue eyes darkening. “you think i want to be reading about flavin adenine dinucleotides when my girlfriend is sitting here looking like a wet dream and trying to get her hand down my pants? it’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to bend you over this desk and fuck you”

your breath hitches. you didn’t think he’d actually fall for your ragebait

“but i won’t,” he continues, gently holding your hand in his. “because i’m not just your boyfriend. i’m your tutor. and i care more about you passing this exam than i do about my dick feeling good for ten minutes. so no, i don’t think you’re chopped baby. you’re a beautiful distraction, and i’m trying to do the right thing here.”

he’s so sincere, so stubbornly devoted, it makes your chest ache.

“so” he sighs, tone shifting back to something softer, the sharp edge of his earlier frustration melting away. “are you going to stop pouting and let me teach you about the krebs cycle or are we going to have to find a way to make you focus?”

you blink meekly at him, at the way his shoulders slump slightly as he runs a hand through his already messy hair, a gesture of weary surrender.

he wants to be a good boyfriend, and a responsible tutor. but he also wants you. you decide to push your luck.

“i don’t know,” you hum, your voice a sultry lull “i have a very short attention span. i think you’re going to have to make me focus”

“can we at least compromise sweetheart?” he pleads, his voice dropping to that soft, persuasive tone he knows you can’t resist. “i know you’re bored. i know you want me. but i won’t be able to live with myself if you fail this exam.”

you want to stay mad, to maintain your pout, but it’s impossible when he talks to you like that.

“what kind of compromise?” you ask, your voice still a little sullen, but the fight has been drained out of it

a slow smile spreads across his face. he knows he has you. “you get what you want,” he says. “but we do it my way.”

your interest is piqued. “your way?”

“mhmm,” he hums, hands coming to rest on your thighs. his thumbs strokes the sensitive skin there. “you’ve been so good, sitting here and trying so hard. you deserve a reward. but it’s going to be a productive one.”

you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about, but the promise in his voice is enough to make you nod in agreement.

“you want me inside you so bad? fine. you’re going to sit on my lap, and you’re going to keep my cock warm while we finish this unit. you get what you want, and i get what i want. okay?”

it’s a great idea, really. a perfect one. satoru gets to be your mean tutor and you get the satisfaction of being filled by him, even if it’s not the hard, fast fuck you’re craving.

“okay,” you agree, a blinding smile tugging at your lips. you’re going to be the death of him.

satoru doesn’t waste any time. he shoves the textbook aside and pulls you onto his lap. your skirt bunches around your hips as you straddle him on the creaky desk chair.

with deft, practiced movements, he hooks his thumbs into your panties and slides them down your legs. then he shrugs down his sweatpants just enough to free his cock.

he’s already rock-hard, his tip flushed a deep, angry red and beading with pearlescent pre-cum. he gives himself a few lazy strokes, cerulean eyes locked on yours, before positioning himself at your entrance. “all the way down,” he murmurs. “and then you stay still. understand?”

“mhm” you nod, breath catching in your throat. you rise up on your knees and slowly sink down, taking him inch by inch. you’re so wet he slides in so, so easily. your walls clench around him greedily. he groans, his head falling back against the chair as you settle in his lap, his entire length buried inside you.

“fuuuck,” he breathes, his hands flying to your hips to hold you still. “you’re— mghh— so tight.”

“toru please”you whimper. you want to move, to rock your hips, to ride him until you’re both a mess, but you force yourself to stay still, just like he asked you to.

he reaches for the textbook, propping it open against your back. the positioning is awkward, but it works.

“focus,” he says, his voice a little shaky “where were we baby? acetyl-coa combines with oxaloacetate to form citrate. what’s the enzyme?”

“citrate synthase,” you manage to gasp out.

“good. and citrate is then converted to isocitrate by aconitase. what happens next sweetheart?”

you try to focus, you really do. but your body betrays you. the feeling of him twitching inside you is just too distracting. you can feel your sweet slickness coating him, soaking the fabric of his sweatpants. you can’t help the tiny, involuntary roll of your hips.

“what did i say about staying still?” he frowns, grip tightening on your hips.

“but toruuu,” you whine, grinding down against him again, “i need . . . pleasepleaseplesse— pl”

“baby no” he tuts, his voice low and mean. “we’re almost through the unit. can you be patient for me? please? just a little longer?”

“you’re so mean” you glare at him over you shoulder. to his relief, you finally stop squirming and just sit still

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. a sweet gesture that makes your cunt clench around him. “you’re perfect.”

to your credit, you try. for half an hour you answer all his questions, your voice wavering as you fight the urge to move. core tightening as he murmurs sweet praises against the curve of your neck

every time he shifts to turn a page, his cock drags against your walls, a constant reminder of what you’re not getting. you really can’t take it anymore. you start to move, a slow, deliberate grind that drags his cock against your most sensitive spots.

“mghh toru” you’re not trying to make yourself cum, not yet. you’re trying to provoke him. you just want to feel something more than the passive fullness.

satoru shakes his head, his voice strained. “two more pages, baby. c’mon just wait — fuuuck —you’ve been such a perfect student so far”

his praise is meaningless and irrelevant now. all that matters is the ache between your legs. you’re rutting hard against him now, chasing a high that remains just out of reach.

you can’t. you can’t think. you try to move, to drive yourself towards an orgasm, but it’s no use. the angle is all wrong. you can’t make yourself cum like this, not without satoru moving in sync with you.

satoru tries to maintain his composure. he clears his throat and tries to read a section out loud, but his voice is a wrecked, broken mess. “the. . . the regeneration . . step. . . please baby… malate. . . closes the cy— hck. . . cycle”

that’s it. that’s his breaking point. he can’t do it anymore. the words dissolve into a choked groan as you grind down particularly hard, your slick walls clenching around him. your wanton moans reverberating in his ears

with a guttural whimper, he finally tosses the textbook away. it lands with a heavy thud on the floor. his hands fly to your hips, grip bruisingly tight.

“you just couldn’t wait, could you?” he says despondently. “you’re just too impatient, you don’t listen to me and i’m not going to tutor you anymore”

( it’s the emptiest threat you’ve ever heard, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger )

you don’t answer. you wince as you twist around in his lap, a meticulous movement that brings you face to face with him. you loop your arms around his neck, your bare chest pressed flush against his t-shirt, and look him dead in the eye. your gaze is a silent plea for him to finally give in.

he meets your gaze, bright blue eyes burning with intensity. he does give in. with a breathy moan, he thrusts up into you.

“oh my—” the first thrust is so hard it steals all the air from your lungs. it’s not the gentle roll you’re accustomed to. it’s a harsh snap of his hips that nudges against a spot inside you that makes you see stars. you cry out, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt for purchase.

“oh, you wanted this,” he pants, his face mere inches from yours. his eyes are burning, all traces of your nerdy, doting boyfriend gone. “don’t pretend you didn’t — mhh— this is what you’ve been pestering me for.”

he rolls his hips again, another deep thrust that lifts you slightly off his lap. he’s not holding back anymore, using the strength in his thighs and core to fuck up into you, over and over.

“fuuuck! s’too much toru ,” you moan,head falling back. he bends his head to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin.

“look at me,” he murmurs. when you don’t obey immediately, one of his hands leaves your hip to gently cup your jaw, tilting your face forward, forcing you to meet his radiating gaze. “you wanted my attention, you have it. so— mghh keep your eyes on me”

each thrust is a powerful grind that sends jolts of electricity through your body. the desk chair groans and creaks beneath you, the obscene sound mixing with the wet, slick noises of your bodies and your broken, breathless moans.

“is this what you needed?” he breathes out, jaw clenched with effort. “you care hck about this more than passing your final?“

“yes,” you sob, the word torn from your throat. “fuckfuckfuck please don’t stop ‘toru.”

“my perfect girl” he groans, his voice breaking. “love it when you beg. you sound so pretty.” his praise only fuels the fire building in your core.

“you’re so wet— fuuuck you’re drowning me,” he whimpers, his gaze dropping to where your bodies are joined. “look at the mess you’re making mmh all over my sweats. you’re driving me crazy.”

you can only gasp in response, your ability to form coherent thoughts or sentences completely gone. the pressure in your core winds tighter and tighter. you can feel it in your thighs, in the base of your skull, in every single nerve ending.

“toruuu, i. . i’m going to. . . ” you trail off, eyes squeezing shut as he relentlessly grind into you “mghh i can’t— fuuuck i can’t take it”

“shhh it’s okay baby,” he murmurs, his pace becoming almost frantic. “i’ve got you. need to feel mhh feel you cum on my cock”

the sheer need in his voice is what finally pushes you over the edge. your orgasm completely shatters you, your body convulses as your walls clench and flutter around him.

“you’re so beautiful,” satoru sighs, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. burying himself deep inside and painting your insides white.

you slump forward, trembling. he catches you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist, and he immediately laces his fingers through yours.

he presses soft, reverent kisses to your shoulder, the curve of your neck, any inch of skin he can reach, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of your release. he stays buried inside you, lips never ceasing their gentle worship of your skin.

for a long moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing and the frantic pounding of your hearts.

when you can finally form words again, you lift your head and look at him. his face is flushed, his lips are puffy and swollen, his foggy glasses askew on his nose.

“are you really going to stop tutoring me?” you pout leaning closer, lightly tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. “do you hate me that much toru?”

you’re completely aware that your pretty face and a little well-timed pout can completely unravel him. you revel in pushing just enough, saying just enough to watch the smartest guy on campus stumble over his words.

you throw him off balance on purpose. and he knows it, but that doesn’t make him any less susceptible to it. despite knowing better, he still falls for it every time. because he’s hopelessly devoted to you.

“no baby, i would never,” he sputters, pushing his glasses up “even if you’re not always the best student, you’re still my favorite one.”

satoru looks completely wrecked. it just makes you want him even more

you lean in and press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. “i personally think i was an amazing student,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye, “now, take me to bed and fuck me properly.”

you remember running into him the first week of university itself, when people were scrambling around campus, trying so desperately to find the friends they were looking to be with for the rest of their degree— specific interests being thrown around in soft whispers, "so, do you smoke?" or "girl, i love your heels, what brand is that?" or "we should totally make a playlist!"

amidst all of that first-week chaos was satoru, who gave you a calm nod of acknowledgement while you both collected forms for that semester's science exhibition event, where all courses were setting up interactive stalls for school kids to come and learn from. most people took this task as a way to get good extracurricular grades, but not you and satoru.

he volunteered at the physics stall with his group, of course— right next to your microbiology one. he brought you juice boxes for hydration when the sun was too hot and the kids were getting loud and annoying.

he even offered you the cloth he used to wipe his own glasses when he saw you wiping your lenses with your t shirt, murmuring gently— "don't do that. it'll cause scratches. here, use mine."

so sweet.

he asked you out sometime that month, because he didn't want to waste time being an idiot, something about being your boyfriend before anyone else from your lab could even try made him feel satisfied. perhaps he had been a little insecure and nervous about losing you to another guy because of his cowardice.

word spread fast.

"they're lowkey cute!" someone giggled.

"me and who?" another person whined.

the funny thing was, you and satoru never even walked around with each other like that. never to show off or act purposely cute in front of others.

people just... observed.

they saw him when he didn't even bother looking at anyone else. you were right next to him, talking about a recent discovery made in your field, about how it opens doors for students who want to go down that specific route in the subject after graduation— he could barely focus on what you were saying, when you looked so his.

it's all in the eyes, they said.

"he looks at her like she created the damn forces he studies about."

it's funny. cute. admirable. the kind of bond that gets positivity from every circle in the university.

now that you're in the third year, you start hearing the unwanted opinions and questions that not only felt like an invasion of your privacy, but are also quite... incorrect.

"they're too cute. bet they'll get married a few years after graduation."

"duh. they also seem like they'd wait for marriage before funny business. god, i wish i had waited, too— when will this kind of love find me?"

as weird as the assumptions are, they're collectively a blessing in disguise.

satoru preferred it this way.

he preferred you two being seen as the innocent couple who attend science events together and still remain so healthy even after being on opposite teams during some debates. he loved the gentle act of your hands instantly interlocking and your faces smiling sweetly as you walked back to the dorm rooms.

he preferred the twisted idea of no one else being aware of how horny you got halfway through the discussion. he liked knowing that no one else could ever understand from the subtle curve of your eyebrows that you're soaked for him while he was busy making a valid point for his team.

it was not your fault. it was that white button up shirt of his— and his hand just looked so hot wrapped around the mic as he spoke into it. his other hand was tapping against his knee in that fidgety habit whenever his brain was working on producing smart statements. he was so effortlessly sharp and intelligent, spewing some accurate statistics about STEM careers, you couldn't help but let your thoughts wander as you crossed your legs politely.

and now that the debate is over (his team won), he grabs a handful of your ass under your plaid skirt when you walk up the dorm building's staircase. his long fingers shift lower between your thighs, squeezing the puffy folds of your pussy through your drenched panties, watching you go stiff from his greedy touch as you grip the railing for support.

you gasp, pushing at his hand weakly, already trembling with need as your hands fumble the keys. "'toru.."

"why didn't you just tell me you wanted some relief from your pre-debate anxiety?" he huffs softly in amusement, blue eyes still focused on your backside as his head dips to rest against your shoulder. "it was hell, watching my sweet girl shift on that chair like it was my face. bet you left your scent on it, too."

you somehow succeed at unlocking the door. you waddle inside with your lanky boyfriend attached to you from behind.

his hand slides up and down the curve of your side, greedy fingers brushing over one soft breast through your sweater like it's a crime he can't be caught getting away with. "...or was the anxiety thing a lie? maybe you let your pretty little head go down the gutter."

you whimper, turning around to face him properly as you stare up at him through your glasses— doe eyes needy without shame as your hand shifts down to the hardening bulge in his slacks. "yeah. couldn't focus. you looked so hot today. like a professor."

he chuckles, his tone soft and sweet. "a professor? creative thoughts, sweetheart."

one arm tightly wraps around your waist to keep you against him. his other hand slips between your thighs easily, finding your panties warm with slick as he taps over your mound once, twice. "all it takes is me infodumping on stage to get this pussy acting up?"

"yes," you moan out, knees buckling from the sheer hot feeling that spreads from your core to your tummy, up to your chest. "please, 'toru."

"please what?" he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple as he guides your pliant body to the couch— he didn't have the patience to walk a few more feet to your bed.

"please, anything," you hiss softly as you stumble down on the couch— your glasses askew when your face hits the cushions and his big hand grips your hip, keeping your ass in the air.

"anything?" he echoes quietly, letting out a heavy sighing like he needs time to think— even though he already knows what he wants. he frees himself from his jeans, fuck, he's so hard it hurts.

the flushed tip of his dick glides smoothly over your already see through panties, yet the fabric still absorbs the pre-cum, creating a delicious lubricant for his length to move between the fat of your ass.

his hands squeeze your flesh, holding on for leverage as he rocks his hips against you once more with a soft curse falling from his lips. you moan again, swaying your hips to meet his cock eagerly while his hand lifts your skirt further, carefully unveiling more of your stunning body.

"fuck," he curses again, azure eyes observing how you pulsate under the fabric just from the feel of his cock against you. he slaps your pussy with it a few times, long and heavy, breathing louder as more pre-cum dribbles down his length and sticks to your inner thighs. "hah.. i'm gonna fuck you silly, baby. this is all your fault."

''m-my fault..?" you whine in protest to his foul blame game. his long fingers finally, finally, finally tug your panties down your thighs. the material is so wet it sticks to your skin, coating it with a mix of your arousal and him— the sight makes satoru's cock leak like never before.

"s'not my fault," you shift a little, your hands supporting yourself up as you look at him over your shoulder, pretty lips curved in that soft pout that he can't ignore, glasses sitting so nicely on the bridge of your nose. "and i can read a whole research paper faster than whatever this is, babe."

"demanding," he just smiles, lining himself up. god, he'd be lying if he said that the feel of your soft folds against his tip didn't turn him on more than being inside you.

there was something about how beautifully your pussy was made— how flawless it was in his eyes. the perfect hole for him to sink into, adorned by slick folds that welcomed him in with so much love. someday, he wanted to really take his time and worship you.

but today wasn't that day.

he slides in with an easy push, but still goes slow— it's more about you being able to fit his length comfortably. a perfectly executed process by you, because your walls let him in with such gentle pulses, accommodating his cock with warmth and familiarity. "satoru," you let out a dreamy sigh, burying your face in the cushions once more because of how good it feels when he comes in slow like that.

"i heard you, angel," he whispers breathlessly, a sound of want leaving his lips as he pulls back just enough, thrusting back in with a force that makes your upper body fall forward. you squeak out loud, eyes snapping shut. "oh!"

he's not being gentle today, even if his lips are still pulled into a soft smile. your moans arrive in sync with his cock that fills you up perfectly. satoru's balls hit your inner thighs just right, skin slapping against skin as he leans over you. "open your eyes, pretty. look at me."

you obey, tilting your head again so you can maintain the eye contact, and he leans just a little lower to capture your glossy lips in a sloppy kiss that you moan into. "fuh— hck.. 'toru, harder."

harder, you say?

"whatever my princess needs." his smile widens into a proper grin now— all shiny teeth and amused blue eyes, and he runs a hand through his hair once, adjusting his glasses just to keep his eyesight clear so he can watch the way your ass jiggles with each thrust that he speeds up. "that's right. squeeze me. no, you can do better, baby. squeeze me harder."

you squeal into the mattress of the couch, cheeks flushed and pussy milking him just like he asked, your hands clawing at the cushioning when your lower stomach gets that familiar weight of an incoming orgasm. "b-babe! hnngh, fuck!"

while he still holds your ass up, his other hand travels around your body— like a snake coiling itself around you, and he rolls your clit between his index and thumb, making you yelp in unison with his encouraging words as his cock throbs in the tight grip of your cunt. "take it, take it. be good."

your body squirms, running from how fucking good it feels when he's so deep inside you, but he doesn't let go. his hand only rubs your clit with a sudden fervor that makes you see actual stars, your eyes start to widen as your vision blurs with white-hot pleasure.

you cry out his name loudly, the sweet sound making him hiss and hold onto your hip tighter. "satoru! s-so— ahnn.. so good! g'na make a mess!"

he grunts, slamming into you faster as his fingertips brush back and forth over the sensitive little bud until you're limp against the mattress and barely even coherent with your words. your pussy is so warm with your orgasm already, he can't hold back the hot spurts that follow right after your climax. "s-shit, baby— that's it, gonna come.. hah, come right here... and fill my sweet girl up."

he stays inside for a moment, taking a good experience of the way your cunt still greedily clenches around him through the aftershocks of your bliss, until he finally pulls out in the slowest, most gentle manner.

not because he's worried about hurting you— he knows you're fine, judging from the way you mewl against the cushions like a satisfied princess and barely even acknowledge how hard you just came.

he keeps your lower half steady, supporting you by a lean arm under your soft belly as he watches the slow spill of his cum from your orifice, the translucent substance slowly dripping down onto the couch— he doesn't even feel bad about spending the rest of the day cleaning it.

satoru rubs your smooth back, slowly letting your body rest back down as he presses a gentle trail of kisses up your hip and waist. you're still half clothed with your sweater still on, and it makes him laugh under his breath because of just how impatient you two were.

"angel?" he whispers, shifting off you, pulling his boxers back on as he cradles your form in his arms and lifts you without a sound. "you okay, sweetheart?"

"mhm," you smile lazily, blinking your eyes open to stare up at your boyfriend's face as the words leave your sinful mouth. "yeah. felt s'good, 'toru. want you to come in me all the time."

his breath hitches.

you were still stuck in that post-high haze.

right?

he chuckles softly, pale skin flushing under your sleepy gaze as his footsteps lead to your bathroom. "you're funny when you're all tired, gorgeous."

"not joking," you whisper back instantly, catching the mild surprise in his expression as you smirk, running your tongue over his jawline. he moans in response, almost tripping over the bathroom mat.

"fuuuuck, sweets. d-don't start again."

"so, today's your second year together, huh? you two even had your first kiss yet?" your friend giggles as you settle into your usual seat in the lecture room— first row, middle chair, with satoru on your right and your friend on your left, because that's how it's always been.

she doesn't usually tease you about your relationship. she doesn't care much. it's just a question of genuine curiosity, because just like everyone else, she has never seen you and your boyfriend do anything more than gentle hugs, and now you've started sitting on his lap more often. 'a new step', the rest of the students call it.

"'course we have," you smile softly, responding to her with a gentle look in your eyes as you turn your head to stare at satoru. "we had our first kiss months ago."

she raises an eyebrow at the new information. "oh? that's nice. just asked 'cause, y'know, heard you two weren't one of those couples."

satoru raises an eyebrow back, lips twitching into a soft smirk as he takes his earphones out, rolling up the cord gently. "those couples?"

"y'know, the couples who eat each other's faces for breakfast at eight in the morning." she murmurs back, sighing in exasperation at the mention of those people.

oh, i usually eat more than just her face for breakfast, satoru wants to say.

he doesn't.

"yeah," he laughs quietly, a sound so sweet and soft that no one would believe it if they found out what he was doing half an hour ago. "we're not really like that."

his warm, sticky cum in your panties says otherwise. your thighs casually squeeze together under the desk as you cross a leg over the other, adjusting your rumpled skirt so it modestly covers your lap— the air conditioner's cool air settles against your pussy in the most bothersome manner. you shudder, and your still-flushed skin doesn't help as you try to forget about how his cock was buried deep inside you a while ago.

his previous words echo in your mind when you close your eyes in an effort to seem relaxed, your chin resting against your palm, elbow propped up against the table. you replay the entire moment.

"sorry, baby," he had hissed into your ear, pounding you against the wall of the janitor's closet on the fourth floor of the building. "had a dream about this exact situation last night— ah, fuck, y-you wouldn't believe me if i.. nngh, if i told you i came even in my sleep, would you? but i fuckin' did."

all you could do at that time was let out a muffled moan, clamping down on him like a vice as he held you up tighter, thrusting deep and slow— and each powerful snap of his hips had made your pretty tits bounce in your half unbuttoned blouse. "mmh? y-you did? ah.. i believe you, 'toru!"

the sight and your voice alone had him spilling his seed deep into you, which was already dripping down his balls and onto the dusty floor of the cramped closet with a deep groan delivered against your neck, his voice cracking with bliss. "shiiiiiit. you're always so willing, angel. i lose my mind over it sometimes."

"always for you," you'd whispered, standing on wobbly legs and using his shoulders for support while he gently tugged your underwear back on— tight and snug against your swollen pussy so his cum doesn't leak down your trembling thighs.

then he'd kissed your cheek so lovingly, taking off your foggy glasses to wipe them clean before setting them back on your nose with a proud glint in his blue eyes. "there's my smart girl. always saying the right things."

now, your heart still pounds at the recent memory of his big hands smoothing your skirt back down, fixing your hair and only then tucking himself back into his pants. all because he cared more about making his beautiful girlfriend look presentable first.

satoru's hand on your knee snaps you out of your thoughts, but he knows you're thinking about what happened in the closet, and it amuses him. "you feeling okay?"

you just smile, shy and knowing, biting down on your bottom lip as you take out your laptop. "mhm. i'm good, 'toru."

he nods, still rubbing your knee gently, and his gaze returns back to the front of the room when the professor starts his lecture.

his thoughts, however, aren't exactly in the academic mood.

there's a lot more he wants to do with you.

guess he'll just have to make a neat schedule.

"don't give me that attitude." you hissed at him, drawing your own features into a scowl to match his. he rolled his eyes at your antic, "well, i won't give you an attitude if you don't hound me in the fucking club room. it's late. i have work to do and i'm trying to go home soo—"

"oh—?!" your eyes widened, venom laced into your words as you pointed your index finger at your own chest, "me?! me? i'm hounding you?"

you noticed his bored eyes follow your finger to the swell of your chest. his gaze lingered there for the barest fraction of the second, before he brought his bored eyes back to your face.

"yes. you literally followed me in here, like a stalker. and then, you started nagging me." again, his voice fell flat. he looked at the door that you had closed shut as you had entered, blocking his way out. then, as he looked back at yourself, his words were crisp. "so, 'hounding me' is exactly what you're doing."

"well, i wouldn't have you 'hound' you if you weren't such a goddamn..." you struggled to find the right words, "goddamn headache!"

now it was his turn to look offended. he pointed to himself, "me? headache?"

you rambled on, stepping closer to him and eyeing him with all the hatred you could possibly summon. "yes, you! do you have to be such a fucking downer all the time? the team can have some lighthearted fun once in a while— but no! oh, no. great tsukishima kei needs to be an emo boy with no emotions and—!"

"what." a beefy palm landed against your arm. pressing down, his low-lidded eyes crashed into yours as he pulled you downwards to face him. "what the fuck did you say?"

your breath stuttered as his face hovered mere inches away from yours. in the bubbling heat of your anger, you hadn't noticed just how close you had stepped to him. he had pulled you down so that you were somewhat bent, the upper half of your body falling towards him. your erratic gaze scanned his face. being so close, you could count each individual lash in his lower lashline and the long-past, adolescent acne scars on the plane of his cheek.

you barely breathed.

his hand seemed to imprint every inch of itself onto your skin, and it was only a few, lagged minutes later that you realized that your shirt was falling forward, presenting your cleavage to his hungry eyes. shit.

"k-kei." you squirmed under his hold, pulling back slightly, "uh... pervert!"

he whispered, dazed, "what?"

at your reaction, the man came to his senses. realizing it was your flesh he was holding onto, he let go immediately. with wide eyes, tsukishima kei — the ever cool player — stuttered for the first time in front of you. his words wobbled over themselves, "i— sorry... the- the heat of the moment. i— y'know the—?!"

"yup." you pursed your lips, nodding immediately as if you understood him without him having to spew out some nonsensical excuse.

you stood up straight, immediately dusting off your uniform for any residual of dust that may linger on it. you spoke quick, not meeting his eyes, "i- i should go home. goodnight, bozo. talk later."

with that you turned around, reaching your hand upwards to unlock the very door you had not locked too long ago. but... a warm hand enveloped your hand.

you breath choked in your throat, your eyes widened and your mouth went dry. you felt tsukishima behind you, his towering figure preventing you from undoing the lock and walking out. his taut body pressed all up against the fat of your ass.

"gah—! tsuki...shima." your words shrivelled up in your throat as you felt him dip downwards. his lips ghosted over the shell of your ears as he rasped, "i thought you wanted to have a conversation?"

oh god!? fuck tsukishima kei.

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

you and tsukishima kei were never on the greatest of terms. not from day one, no. there was always this sense of superiority that he carried with him that pissed you off beyond recognition.

in year one, you had tried to be friends. it was the obvious thing to do because you two were basically being forced to meet each other multiple times a week in the gymnasium to practice anyways. but every effort from your side — every smile, every friendly glance, every quick wave of hello — was dismissed. he ignored you! like you were a fucking ghost!

in year two, you had grown used to his standoffish nature but still, hope lingered in your heart that one day, you'd break through his rough exterior and get to meet the man inside. however, that day never came. he continued to be a dick and by the end of year two, you knew one thing for sure — you hated tsukishima kei. the tough exterior you were trying to break wasn't even an exterior! he was just an asshole!

although year one and two weren't great, they surely weren't the worst of you and the blonde player. because all hell truly broke loose the next year.

in year three, you made cheer captain and were forced to see more of him. keyword: forced to! you couldn't ignore him even if you wanted! you had to attend meetings which often included the older members of the male, and female volleyball teams. you also had to spend a lot of time in the gymnasium to come up with new choreos. whether you wanted to see his face or not, you had to. so, in the third year, the true bickering began.

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

3rd february, 5:21 p.m. Volleyball Gymnasium, Uni.

the sound of hands slapping the volleyballs rung in the background. feets shuffled across the court and boys grunted as they tried not to drop the ball during practice.

you clapped, giving your girls a quick smile, "good work everyone! you all are starting to be in sync! let's hope we don't drop this momentum. see you tomorrow."

the girls returned back the smiles, immediately rushing over to their bags and rushing over to the changing rooms to change out of their cheer uniforms. a friend of yours stayed back, quickly asking you, "you're not leaving?"

"oh, no." you waved her off, "i have to think of the new choreo for the upcoming tournament. our old one is getting really repetitive."

your friend furrowed her eyebrows, "damn. so much work. do you want me stay back?"

"no, no." you stretched your hands by taking them over your head. you waved her off with an easy expression, "don't worry! i will leave in an hour or so. plus, i have got the guys to keep me company here."

your friend had left soon after and you had spent the next hour trying to match the new steps to the theme song. once done, you stretched your body and began to walk towards the changing room with your duffle bag slung across one of your shoulders.

crossing the court, the fourth-year captain of your uni's male volleyball team asked you, "done with practice?"

you laughed, "yup. all done. the new choreo is gonna be hot. err, hopefully."

a few underclassmen swooned at your answer. one of them even bold enough to say, "it's you! of course it's gonna be hot."

the captain sent the first-year a dry look, under which the younger man cowered. you asked politely, "how long is your practice going to run for?"

"oh, just another—" the captain had barely started when tsukishima spoke from beside him, "it'll end a lot sooner if you quit your yapping and went ahead and changed."

"huh?!" your eyes narrowed at his remark. drawing your posture straighter, you snapped — the polite, well-meaning girl in you dead as soon as it came to tsukishima. "what the fuck is your issue? im talking to the captain, not you."

"yeah, and you're wasting our time." he grunted, seemingly on edge by your answer.

you crossed your arms, "and you're not wasting your own time by being a bitch and bickering with me?"

"there, there." the captain came to stand between you both, giving you both a stern look, "you." he looked at you, "go change."

"and you." he glared at his blonde player next, "you go practice your blocking."

"fine." you turned around quick, not wanting to bicker with that man for a moment longer. but just as you were drawing a step forward, you heard him whisper, "how annoying."

you had to be held back by the captain lest you go and pull out the blonde's hair right out of his scalp. oh, he was so annoying!

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

17th march, 7:21 p.m. Volleyball Gymnasium, Uni.

"tsk. that's the best you can do?" tsukishima eyed the choreo, quipping from the side of his mouth.

you glared at him, "what? mind your own business, four-eyes."

it was you and him in the gymnasium again. ugh, how you loathed the days when this happened. he had cleanup duty today, and you were still perfecting the choreo when you heard his jagged voice from the side.

he stood with a mop in his hand, blatantly stating, "i am just saying, you can probably devise a better choreo—" you cut him off, "oh, fuck off. do you even know a thing or two about dancing?"

he hummed, going back to mopping the floor, "i bet i'll make a better cheerleader than you."

"hah!" you laughed at the absurdity of the statement, "do you just wanna wear a tiny skirt and dance for for a bunch of men?"

"well, given i'll look better than you—!" he started, raising your hackles. you sighed miserably, though maybe there was the barest flicker of sincerity in your words. "do you enjoy being a dick?"

he hummed, "mostly to you, yes."

oh, fuck tsukishima kei!

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

9th april, 8:11 p.m. Volleyball Gymnasium, Uni.

this was embarrassing! you usually never tripped and fell face-first into the floor while performing a routine! especially not when all your girls had already gone home and you were left with a handful of volley guys left — including tsukishima kei.

you rubbed your nose, feeling it bumpy and swollen at your current failing.

a few underclassmen were standing around you, offering you water and words of affirmation, "it'll be okay!" "don't worry, you're still very pretty!"

the captain of their team had rushed to the medical office to get you some ice. fuck, even the team manager was sitting beside you on the floor, rubbing your arms as she gave you words of encouragement, "don't worry. it's an accident, things happen."

almost everyone was at your side... except tsukishima. well, err, it's not like you wanted to see him! it's just... was he so cruel that he didn't even wanna come check up once? or did he hate you so much so that he just couldn't be bothered?

you tried to put that blonde out of your mind. he was clearly doubling your current mental strain. if anything, you realized, he was probably snickering on the side when you had fallen. fucking bastard. fuck him.

you were still preoccupied with your thoughts when you saw a milky hand outstretch a bandaid towards you. your eyes lifted up to see tsukishima. he looked... non-monotonous, if that were possible for him. his eyes were locked into you, but as he spoke, it seemed nothing out of the ordinary, "take this."

"i-" you eyed the bandaid and then, him. well, you didn't need his help! not when he thought so low of you! you rejected it. "im okay."

"did you get a concussion?" he deadpanned, "you hurt your nose, it might help."

your jaw sagged open at his words. you grumbled, "i don't have an open wound, what will a bandaid do?"

despite your words, he pulled your palm forward and pressed the bandaid to your hand. his skin gently laid over yours for a second too long and although, he didn't say anything, you swear for a moment his eyes softened.

pulling his hand back, he didn't offer any other arguments. he simply took off, murmuring under his breath, "keep it for some other emergency, then."

surrounded by people, your eyes went down to your palm. the bandaid had kuromi plastered all over them. oh, you loved kuromi! you just didn't know that... tsukishima did too.

well, either ways, helping in one medical emergency doesn't make someone a good person! fuck tsukishima kei!

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

17th july, 7:31 p.m. Festival Grounds.

"c'mon." the sleazy bastard on the street eyed you, "don't be so tough. i am loaded, y'know. just name your price and i'll pay it."

your friend held you back by your arm as you yelled at the seemingly drunk man in his mind twenties. your chest rose and fell under the traditional dress, your eyes glassy and voice sharp, "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY TO ME? YOU'D PAY FOR ME—?"

curses left your mouth in a lewd string of insults as a crowd built up around you. you went off at the three drunken men, but the primary man and his two friends didn't really seem to take you seriously. they had the audacity to think it was cute.

and then, something broke their smiles. it happened so quick that you didn't have the time to stop your yelling and cursing.

a mop of blonde caught your eye before a familiar, lean man stepped into the circle from the crowd and punched the man in the middle. next you heard was a grunt, and people in the crowd breaking out in a gasp.

you gasped too, as you finally saw tsukishima kei reel back his hand. he had his back turned to you, but you could feel fumes practically raising off of his skin.

"fucking apologize." the pro-player spit out, giving a nasty glare to the three men that still stood in shock, "or I will make you."

"tsuki—?" you were beginning to say when you saw two of his friends swooped in. an energetic, short boy followed in by a stoic, raven-headed one. the two glared at the drunken men, intimidating them into submission. once the drunken men, scrambled off, tsukishima finally looked back at you.

he didn't say anything — although you could see the tick built up in his jaw and his fisted palm, now sporting a bruise on the knuckles. he seemed to shake, but his orange-haired friend stepped forward, catching your attention.

"you okay?" the man asked, and you nodded, "yeah..." your eyes drifted to tsukishima, only to find him already staring at you.

you parted your lips, ready to utter a thank you but... tsukishima kei was already taking off. dragging the orange-haired and raven-haired duo by their collars, the blonde disappeared down the crowd. following him, was another boy - one with flat, black hair and who was chanting 'tsukki!!' after them.

you blinked. once, twice, thrice — still staring at the spot where the blonde once stood. but no amount of staring with your mouth agape could bring back the man.

that day, however grateful you were for his intervention, you couldn't help but feel that even this benevolent act of his was practically an insult.

you were handling the situation on your own, and you were going just fine. there was no need for him to swoop in and make himself out to be your knight in shining armor — especially when you knew he was no such thing! especially when he took off and didn't even bother saying 'you're welcome'!

ughhh, fuck tsukishima kei!!

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

in year four — your final year of uni — things between you two hit a newer low. both of you stopped acknowledging each other, speaking only if spoken to.

the times changed, now he was appointed the captain of the male volleyball team. many nights, you two found yourself alone after practice, but not one of you dared to say a word to each other. sure, there was some bickering but neither you nor tsukishima ever dared bring up the festival night again. the bruise on his knuckles had long faded, but the bruise on your ego was as deeply embedded as that night in the middle of july.

PRESENT DAY. 6:31 p.m. Volleyball Gymnasium, Uni.

you put a hand on your hip, laughing at something that the jovial underclassmen had said to you. you didn't intend to draw all the members of the male volleyball team to your side and start a chit-chat session, it's just that they were resting and you were done with your practice. so, you indulged yourself in some mindless chatter with the players.

"oi!" tsukishima yelled from behind, eyeing his underclassmen with a nasty glare. his nostrils practically flared, downturned eyes ablaze, "i told you to take five. not to fucking go ahead and gossip."

at his words, the younger men sighed and picked up their pace, running back to the court to start their practice again.

once each of them had dispersed, tsukishima walked over to you. his steps were long, slow, deliberate. he stood beside you, giving you a side-eye, "you don't have to go home?"

"i do." you muttered, holding onto your duffel bag tighter to pacify yourself in his presence. he seemed to notice your death grip on the bag and asked, "then why are you still standing here?"

"i—" you sucked in a harsh breath, "why does it matter to you if i stand here or not?"

"it doesn't."

"good." you felt your features pull themselves into a haughty expression, "you know, now that you're captain of the team, you should do better to boost the team morale."

"huh?" he rasped, not looking at you as he eyed the ongoing practice.

"yeah. you can't have a stick up your ass when you have so many people under you." you gave him an obviously pretend-smile, "just a piece of advice, of course. y'know..." you pointed between the two of you, "captain to captain."

he inhaled sharply, murmuring under his breath, "yeah. thanks."

you expected a more biting remark. perhaps something that will question your legitimacy as a captain, but instead the man shut his mouth and returned his focus on the gameplay.

you waited a minute in silence. then another, and another. your brows furrowed, "do you have nothing to say?"

"nope." tsukishima was quick with it. "i have to go do captain stuff, see ya."

huh? what the fuck? why was he acting like that?!

first, he comes to talk to you after months of ignorance and then he goes back to it? why bother then? what?! did he expect you to say thank you for that night, was that what he wanted to talk about?

you fisted your palms and unfisted it soon after. your mouth opened and closed, again and again but no words trailed out as you saw his practice shirt gleam and shine under the overhead lighting. he stepped away from you, going to join his team in practice.

technically, you should have left for home then. but you didn't. instead, you decided to change into your tank top and mini skirt, and wait for another hour to finally confront the man!

that confrontation... led to now.

where tsukishima kei — your sworn enemy — was pressing his body against your back and rasping in your ear!

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

☆ his pov

tsukishima kei and you were never on the greatest of terms. not from day one, no. there was always this try-hard nature of yours that pissed him off beyond recognition. after all, he hated when people cared too much.

in year one, he saw you multiple times a week. you in your cheer uniform, made-up face and perfectly tamed hair that fell neatly doing your cheer routines. he would catch you smiling at him, sometimes even waving and nodding at him. why were you doing that? trying to be friends with someone like him? no. he ignored you. it was better for you to find some more lively friends. definitely not him. definitely.

in year two, he continued avoiding you. you were very determined, still trying to talk to him and be friends. why? he hated it. he hated that he thought that despite it all, you were somewhat... cute. no. whatever. he let it go. someone as full of life should get someone better than him. so, for better or for worse, he continued being his dry, stand-offish self.

the first two years weren't so bad, though. atleast, he only had to endure seeing you a few hours in the evening. if anything, by the end of second year, he could see that you had lost all hope in him that he'd be your friend. he was relieved. he would try to move on, try to pray that you find a better guy. but in year three... god, all hell broke loose.

you made cheer captain and he, the vice-captain of his volleyball team. now, instead of just ignoring you during practices, he had to listen to your sweet, grating voice in the team meetings. he had to see your face as you more involved than ever in the the volleyball club. keyword: had to! he was trying to move on, trying to convince himself that years of being a dick to you was okay if it meant you wouldn't waste your time on a man like him.

but you? you had different plans. instead of being that somewhat sweet, reserved girl he had ignored for the past two years, you turned vicious. you bickered back, your words sharp now. you didn't take his attitude lying down. you were constantly all up in his business. oh god, he was going to fall in love with you and your short temper after every bicker. why wouldn't you let him push you away?!

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

3rd february, 5:21 p.m. Volleyball Gymnasium, Uni.

the practice was standard. everyone stood in a line, charging ahead, jumping up, and hitting back the balls into the ground with a firm slap when it was there turn. tsukishima was at the very end of the line, towering over his teammates and sticking up like a sour thumb. he watched the first run run up, jump and strike down the ball into the other side of the court. his captain cheered, yelling words of encouragement. 'nice kill!' echoed in the background, and he felt his feet take a step forward as another man ran up, and another.

truth be told, the blonde wasn't paying attention. he had somehow raked his monotonous eyes over to where you stood. you were waving the girls goodbye. he watched as everyone else left and you turned the song back to practice the steps again. hardworking. how irritating.

"-kishima?" his captain called out and the blonde snapped his neck away from you. if he was flustered, he didn't let it show on his face. instead, he muttered, "sorry. here i go."

he did what all the ones before him had, running up and striking the ball coming at a height. as the rubber ball hit the gymnasium floor, a subtle echo rang through the auditorium at the force of the hit. some underclassmen whooped, applauding the blonde's strength while others cheered 'nice shot!'

tsukishima kei didn't react to the praise, though. he knew it was pointless. this was just practice. as he gained his thoughts back, his eyes went over to you and he swore he saw you staring at him for a second. the two of you locked eyes, and he wasn't sure who looked away first, but it was quick.

the practice dragged on, now he had switched to practicing blocks from the other teammates. that's when he saw you finish stretching, and sway by. your snug cheer uniform skirt hugged your body, sheen of sweat glistening across your pretty face. the ribbon in your hair had come lose. you were walking over to the changing room now.

he heard the familiar voice of his captain ask you, "done with practice?" and you laughed. god, so pretty. why didn't you laugh at him like that? right... cause he was kind of a dick.

you gave your answers and the underclassmen swooned to your words, showering you with crude compliments. tsukishima felt his palms fist at their praise. they were... right. you were hot. but, why would they say it to your face?!

your melodic voice rang out again, you trained your eyes on the captain - swiftly ignoring the blonde. you asked, "how long is your practice going to run for?"

the captain had parted his lips to answer but tsukishima kei beat him to it... cause goddammit, he wanted you to pay attention to him. spewing sour words, he said, "it'll end a lot sooner if you quit your yapping and went ahead and changed."

"huh?!" he saw your sweet expression change. you narrowed your eyes at his remark. standing up straighter, you went to your venomous self when dueling with him. snapping, you asked, "what the fuck is your issue? im talking to the captain, not you."

his palms unfisted, an unsung victory in his heart as you finally acknowledged him. his voice was still as sharp, though. "yeah, and you're wasting our time."

you crossed your arms, "and you're not wasting your own time by being a bitch and bickering with me?"

"there, there." the captain came to stand between you both, giving both him and you a stern look, "you." he looked at the cheer captain, easily ordering, "go change."

"and you." he glared at his blonde player next, "you go practice your blocking."

tsukishima saw you mutter under your breath and turn around quick. there was a sudden hurry in your steps, as if you didn't want to bicker with that man for a moment longer. why were you leaving already? knowing how to raise your hackles and err, make you stay a little longer, tsukishima kei spoke loud enough for you to hear. "how annoying."

it worked. you turned back around, almost jumping his bones. for a brief moment, tsukishima let himself smile at your antic. cute.

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

17th march, 7:21 p.m. Volleyball Gymnasium, Uni.

tsukishima kei and you were alone in the gymnasium again. as much as he liked to push you away, he couldn't help but count the days till his cleaning duties aligned with your late-night practices.

the corner of his mouth was already twitching at the idea of bothering you, at getting your attention one way or the other. he positioned himself as nonchalantly as possible, making a stupid remark at your choreo, "tsk. that's the best you can do?"

you glared at him, spitting out, "what? mind your own business, four-eyes."

your face was hued red, strained from the dancing. your chest rose and fell in a wicked dance and tsukishima kei wondered if you knew what you did to him.

marching on his mission path, he suggested next, "i am just saying, you can probably devise a better choreo—" you cut him off haughtily. there was a slight fire in your pretty eyes. gosh. "oh, fuck off. do you even know a thing or two about dancing?"

he hummed, going back to mopping the floor lest you think he enjoyed talking to you, "i bet i'll make a better cheerleader than you."

"hah!" you laughed at the absurdity of the statement. at the sound, tsukishima's heart tried to break through his rib. were you... laughing at his words? he raised his head to look at you. you crossed your arms and mused, "do you just wanna wear a tiny skirt and dance for for a bunch of men?"

you laughed at his words once, maybe you'd again. he shrugged, "well, given i'll look better than you—!"

at his words, you rolled your eyes but the smile never left your pretty lips. you wondered somewhat sincerely, "do you enjoy being a dick?"

he hummed, honest to his core, "mostly to you, yes."

even if you were annoyed at him, he couldn't help but feel a sense of victory at your reaction. cute.

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

9th april, 8:11 p.m. Volleyball Gymnasium, Uni.

tsukishima kei prided himself on being someone who was nonchalant to a comical, concerning degree. his longtime friend yamaguchi could fall in front of him anywhere, and the most 'tsuki' would react would be to shrug. if hinata or kageyama fell face-first in front of him, he would videotape it and goad for days.

right now, though? his mouth felt somewhat dry, his hands trembled just a little bit as he frantically searched through his duffel bag in the changing room. he was sure he had bandaids somewhere here. sanrio characters ones. because you had overshared about how much you liked them in first year, and tsukishima started carrying a pack of sanrio bandaids just for you. well, not in that way! he just found them at coach ukai's store one day and decided to buy them... out of some strange curiosity.

"gotcha." he mumbled as he finally finished one out. as he started taking long strides back to the gymnasium, he knew it was of no use. you had fallen face-first. if anything, you would have gotten a concussion not a cut. but... but tsukishima was bad with words. he couldn't comfort you, or say the right thing... but he could get you a kuromi bandaid, right?

he moved fast when he saw a huge group of people around you. they were offering up words and water, with their team manager even sitting beside you to comfort you. tsukishima's quick pace faltered, he felt himself realize that he was useless, utterly useless in this situation. there were already people there for you. you hated him. you probably didn't need him there.

but... he fisted his hand and felt the printed bandaid against his flesh. he brought that pack for you, who else can he give those stupid things to except you?

he walked again till he reached you. his eyes furrowed at your state. your nose was bruised, eyes clearly bloodshot and teary and face red out of embarrassment. feeling his heart sink at your state, he did the one thing he could do - pretend everything was normal. holding out his arm to you, he spoke, "take this."

"i- i'm okay." you switched between his face and palm with a look of uncertainty. you probably thought he was stupid offering you a fucking bandaid in this situation. you probably thought he was a creep for remembering you liked sanrio. what if you didn't anymore? what if... whatever. he brought it for you.

"did you get a concussion?" he tried to speak as his normal self, "you hurt your nose, it might help."

your jaw sagged open at his words. you seemed hurt as you grumbled, "i don't have an open wound, what will a... bandaid do?"

despite your words, he pulled your palm forward and pressed the bandaid to your hand. electricity ran down his spine as his skin gently laid over yours. he tried not to press, or to startle you. he was at a loss of words but he... he just gave you a pleading look. he just hoped you noticed it.

he pulled his hand back quick enough, though. not knowing what more to say or do, he felt himself turn around and walk off. he said, "keep it for some other emergency, then."

after all, even if you lost this bandaid, he had a whole pack in his bag for you. as long as you fell, he'd try to pick you back up.

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

17th july, 7:31 p.m. Festival Grounds.

it was hinata and yamaguchi who forced him to go this stupid festival. they were just so excited that no amount of sulking from him and kageyama could deter their spirits.

it was hinata and yamaguchi again who pointed that there was a huge crowd in the middle of the street and that they all should go check it out. tsukishima was ready to dismiss them, to tell them it was probably some bullshit when he felt your shrill voice pierce the air. then, he was the first to walk to the crowd as the other three boys looked confused and trailed after him.

pushing past people, muttering 'sorry', he made to the front of the crowd and found you and two of you girlfriends standing off against three drunken men. you were on a roll, spitting out vicious word after word at the bastards. tsukishima felt his muscles tighten at the situation, he wanted to leap in, wanted to punch those men till either he or they saw blood. but... you were standing up for yourself good enough.

you went on and on and yet, the men laughed at your words as if they weren't real. how fucking dare they. only tsukishima kei could laugh in your face... well, no. not like this. whatever. what was he even thinking? well, good thing he wasn't thinking at all. his body moved before his mind did. pulling his arm back, he lodged a punch right against the main guy's face. his knuckles burned, his throat burned, everything was on fire. he wanted them dead.

his words were heavy, a solemn threat, "fucking apologize... or i will make you."

before he could mount the man and beat him to a pulp, he felt hinata and kageyama follow him into the circle. at their entry, the drunken men - intimidated and out-of-coherence - scrambled off. in the crowd, yamaguchi was still gasping and in shock.

tsukishima kei wasn't sure if his body was on fire. it felt like it was. he turned around, he felt your eyes on him. your mouth was parted, eyes locked in on you. you were dressed in a pretty yukata, your hair all done up and proper. the streetlight illuminated you. he fisted his palm, unable to say anything, to ask anything.

hinata took ahold of the situation, asking you quickly, "you okay?"

"yeah..." you nodded briefly and brought your eyes back to the blonde. you parted your lips again and tsukishima realized you were probably about to thank him. what for? he shouldn't have meddled so soon, you could have handled it on your own probably. and he didn't even kill the bastard, only drew a spoonful of blood from his mouth. there was nothing you could thank him for.

either ways, he hated when people cared too much. and now here he was, caring too much.

he turned around, finding himself running away not from you, but from the fact that the feelings inside of him in this moment... he loved you. probably. fuck.

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

PRESENT DAY. 6:31 p.m. Volleyball Gymnasium, Uni.

there was that feeling again - the feeling that tsukishima had tried to run away for three full years and a whole summer break now. he did everything in his power to ignore it. he drank water, stretched his muscles, took in deep breaths... but he could still hear your laughs intermingled with the rest of the volleyball team, and he could feel his chest burn at the sound.

he tried not to look over to your side, tried not to think too much about you... but much like the last three years of uni and whole ass summer break, he was unsuccessful. he couldn't help but search for your face. he sighed somewhat miserably, looking over to your side and seeing you talk with the others of his team.

before he knew, his words rushed past his lips. "oi! i told you to take five. not to fucking go ahead and gossip."

the words burned in his throat, and he was sure that his usual nonchalant demeanor was casted away to show him for who he was — a lovestruck dumbass.

at his words, the younger men sighed and picked up their pace, running back to the court to start their practice again. their footsteps fell in sync as they all mumbled under their breaths and got back to work. you gave tsukishima an undecipherable look. he felt like he was going insane under your scrutiny.

maybe... instead of running away from you? what if he confronted you, talked to you and got rid of this weird feeling wrapped around his ribs. he breathed quickly, walking over to your side. as he stood beside you, he felt his words choke. somehow, he managed, "you don't have to go home?"

"i do." you muttered back, and tsukishima saw you clutch onto your duffel bag tighter. he eyed your grip on the bag, and then your face. coming up empty on how he should talk to you, he asked the most elementary question, "then why are you still standing here?"

"i—" you looked peeved, all your pretty features bunched and ruined by his presence alone. "why does it matter to you if i stand here or not?"

he pursed his lips, feeling his attempt at talking to you go awry. he mumbled, "it doesn't."

"good." you paused for a second, and tsukishima kei thought that it was the end of the conversation. then, you spoke up again, "you know, now that you're captain of the team, you should do better to boost the team morale."

he was taken aback. "huh?"

"yeah. you can't have a stick up your ass when you have so many people under you." you smiled at him, and tsukishima knew it was as fake as his demeanor in the moment. "just a piece of advice, of course. y'know..." you pointed from him to you, "captain to captain."

maybe he should have bitten back, played along to your usual games... but tsukishima felt himself coming up dry. what the fuck was he doing? pushing you away and then whining when you actually did? why did he want you so carnally and at the same moment, couldn't look at you a moment longer?

the burn in his throat was quick to return as he rasped, "yeah. thanks."

he turned away from facing you, looking at the uninteresting game instead. a thousand thoughts ran through his head. what the fuck was he doing? with you? with himself?

unbeknownst to you, he battled his demons in silence. time must have slipped past the blonde, because when you spoke again, your voice was slow. "do... do you have nothing to say?"

"nope." tsukishima was quick with it. "i have to go do captain stuff. see ya."

and at that moment, as his feet struck the polished gymnasium floor and he ran away from you yet again, he realized that he couldn't have it both ways. he couldn't push you away just to crave you during your absence. he couldn't raise your hackles every moment possible just so you'd look at him. he was undeserving of you. he needed to let it go. he needed to let it fucking go.

but was the universe playing a cruel fucking joke on him? the day he realized he would stop thinking about you, stop playing with his emotions and possibly, yours... you were following him into the fucking club room.

he felt your light steps behind him but he didn't turn around to ask you why. instead, he acted oblivious as he entered the room and you slipped in behind him.

click. he heard the door locking but he paid no mind to it. he sat down, drawing his notebook out to come up with more gameplay strategies for the upcoming matches.

"tsu-ki-shi-ma." you took your time in spelling each syllable of his name. his heart skipped a beat as you drew closer, crossing your arms across your chest and glaring down at him so viciously. "what is your problem, huh?"

he discarded the notebook to the side, going to his default settings to pull out an annoyed scowl on his face. he didn't lift his head all the way up, afraid that he'd lose his composure if he looked at your face fully. he kept his voice straight, "what?"

"don't give me that attitude." you mirrored his features, and even with your eyes holding venom, he couldn't help but feel his lips stuggling to stretch into a smile. to cover his change in expression, he rolled his eyes to distract you, "well, i won't give you an attitude if you don't hound me in the fucking club room. it's late. i have work to do and i'm trying to go home soo—"

"oh—?!" your eyes widened as you pointed to yourself. your manicured finger trembled slightly. you were growing annoyed. cute. as your words pitched up, you asked, "me?! me? i'm hounding you?"

now, tsukishima kei wasn't a pervert but he couldn't help but allow his bored eyes to follow your finger to the swell of your chest under that tank top. the fabric was taut against your chest, the glistening print shining under the overhead lighting. tsukishima swallowed hard, then quickly bringing his eyes back to your face.

as if snapping back into character, he said with a flat voice, "yes. you literally followed me in here, like a stalker. and then, you started nagging me." he quickly looked at the door that you had closed shut, and then, back at you. pushing his glassed by the rim, he hummed, "so, 'hounding me' is exactly what you're doing."

"well, i wouldn't have you 'hound' you if you weren't such a goddamn..." you bunched your features in annoyance, struggling to find the right words. "goddamn headache!"

tsukishima had thought of all possible words that you could have used to describe him given the current situation - 'dick', 'asshole', 'annoying' but... he wondered aloud, half-offended, "me? headache?"

you step closer to him, your legs just inches away from his face. he looked up at you as you went on and on, "yes, you! do you have to be such a fucking downer all the time? the team can have some lighthearted fun once in a while— but no! oh, no. great tsukishima kei needs to be an emo boy with no emotions and—!"

"what." EMO?! now, tsukishima kei believed himself to be a fairly reasonable man. he knew he was a tough person to handle. but, 'emo'?! he wasn't that! drawing a strong palm against your soft arm, he pulled you down just to grit out, "what the fuck did you say?"

he felt your eyes widen at the action, your breath stutter as his face hovered mere inches away from yours. tsukishima breathed slow. his eyes scanned your face too. he seemed to have forgotten the point he had once started with. the blonde's cheeks were flaming up, his gaze was growing bleary. he could smell the lingering smell of your perfume and sweat. you were so close... so close. he could probably bring you in a few centimetres and your press your rosy lips—

"k-kei." you squirmed under his hold, wiggling your arm out of his phantom grip. your cheeks were red, body rising itself upwards and away from him. you accused, "uh... pervert!"

per...vert?

at your accusation, suddenly all sense knocked back into tsukishima kei. he was holding you. you. his hand burned where it touched you. his vision was going foggy, "what?"

you made a sound, something like a broken whimper and the blonde felt all the blood drain from his brain and rush to his nether regions. with the last tendrils of sanity still keeping him strong, he let go of you. his body coughed up a jitter, thick tongue wobbling in his mouth as he struggled to explain. "i— sorry... the- the heat of the moment. i— y'know the—?!"

pressing your lips into a pained look, you nodded immediately. "yup."

you dusted yourself off quickly, your pretty eyes averted from his as you mumbled, "i- i should go home. goodnight, bozo. talk later."

tsukishima kei watched you turn on your heel, your pony swishing around after you. that mini skirt you loved wearing hugged the curve of your ass, cupping the fat and moving with each hasty step you took towards the door. once there, you stood on your tippy-toes, desperately outstretching your hand to undo the lock.

he moved so quick that his mind lagged behind. one step, two step, three... using his broad limbs, he reached you in no time. before you could open the knob, he pressed his palm over hand. he almost flinched at the soft skin under his own rugged ones.

your back was taut against his, the soft flesh of your ass pressing against his body. tsukishima felt lightheaded. tsukishima was losing his mind.

"gah—" you gasped, "tsukishima...?"

he was betting on a losing game. he knew that. he was probably going to get kicked in the nuts so hard that he would lose the ability to have kids in the future. but... he had already come so far. he had to take the chance. he had to.

bending downwards, he rasped, "i thought you wanted to have a... conversation?"

☾⋆⁺₊✧|☕️

☆ dual pov!

a whimper of his name crossed your glossy lips, your muscles tensed against his unfamiliar touch. god this was... weird. uncharted territories, reckless decisions, awful idea. both of you should have probably taken a step back, breathed in deeply and pretended like you couldn't feel the sinful bulge of his pants against the curve of your ass. but instead, you two went ahead with whatever the fuck this was.

tsukishima kei went on, barely holding his words out of his thick tongue, "go on... tell me what you wanted to say."

"n-nothing." you swallowed thickly, feeling slick bead out of your cunt and latch onto the fabric helplessly at the intimate position. you could feel his warm palm tighten against yours, feel his breath fan down against the naked, exposed skin of your neck. he was so much taller than you, easily enveloping you with his athletic, taller figure.

tsukishima didn't turn you around. keeping you in the same position, he made an unabashed confession. "you see... you piss me off beyond recognition—"

"what?!" you glanced back, eyes drawing daggers despite the situation you two had found yourself in.

"shut up." he gave you a sharp look, "this is exactly what i mean. always talking on and on. and i... i just wanna shut you up." his eyes raked over your lips slowly. he moved forward and you forgot to breathe as he continued with his sinful confession, "i wanna kiss you. right now. if you don't want it, tell me now."

your lips parted and tsukishima kept his distance, not moving a hairsbreadth forward incase you were to revoke his ambitions. he waited, but you didn't say anything. you waited for him, pretty lips parted and ready.

"mmph—" despite knowing it was coming, your eyes widened as the blonde finally pressed his lips against yours. he tasted of something mild but something strong enough that it engulfed your senses and permeated into your bloodstream. his scent, his taste, the feel of his tongue against your mouth clouded you till your limbs turned jelly-like and you felt a abyss brewing in your stomach.

you turned around, your hot body pressed between his muscled figure and the wooden, rickety door behind you. wrapping your hands against his strong shoulders, you felt the man bend forward to kiss you harder. his strong palms raked over your flimsy tank top, running up and down from your chest to your waist to your hips. he never stayed at one place too long, eager to touch as much as he could.

"tsu-tsukishima." you gasped as the man parted from you with lewd strings of saliva binding the two of you together. his pearly whites nipped at your bottom lip and you pressed your manicured nails against his scalp in retreat.

pulling back now, you noticed his pale face now shaded a deep red. the apples of his cheeks burned, his usually monotonous eyes blown wide apart with lust. he licked his lips, feeling the remnants of you on his lips. he parted his lips to speak, but you beat him to it. your voice was feeble, no longer as strong as it usually was. you met his eyes. "taking shit about me when you're the one who's kissing me in the club room? funny."

tsukishima scoffed, "you kissed me back."

"so-oh." your lips parted, eyes clenching as the man placed harsh, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and onto your neck. you continued, "you're so fucking full of yourself, tsu-ki-shi-ma."

"why? you wanna be full of me too?" he mumbled against your skin, tongue darting out to collect the taste of your skin on his tastebuds.

your eyes widened at the implications of his words, yours nails dug into his jersey, almost breaking the fabric and clawing his shoulders, "shut the fuck up! as- as if i'll fuck a virgin like you!"

he look up at you, his eyes sharp, "you're so fucking cocky, huh?" he exhaled through his mouth. the man picked himself up again, towering over you and you felt yourself shudder at his stance. you were so small in front of him, so utterly puny when he stood at his whole height. he looked down at you, his arms locked on either side of your head to cage you in. a lone thumb caressed your lips, "your mouth's always so fuckin' sharp."

you whimpered at his soft touch, your eyes quickly scanning the entirety of his face. even though your eyes softened, your words stayed just as razor-sharp, "you got a problem with my mouth too?"

"nah." collecting the gloss on the pad of his thumb, the man bit back a smirk, "i just think i know of a way to shut you up."

next you knew, one of his rough hands stabled the back of your head, the other harshly tugging your face forward and back on his cock. the saliva dribbled down your lips, down his pale, pink-tipped shaft and down your hands. the lewd drops landed on the hardware floor in pitter-patters.

you hollowed out your cheeks, looking up at him to give him a show. the ever-stoic tsukishima kei was as disheveled as you had ever seen him. sure, long matches winded him - with sweat dropping down his handsome face and cheeks hued red... but this? this tsukishima kei was biting down his lip, unfocused eyes barely holding your gaze as he felt obscene sounds threaten to pour out of his lips. his muscled thighs shook, chest rising and falling with each sleek inch you took within your mouth. the old, peeling club room wall behind his back was the only thing having him stand up straight.

your lipgloss was long slathered on his member, your mascara chipping away as heavy tears stinged your eyes. a gag raised to your throat, and you pulled back with a heavy heave. fluttering your eyes open to look at him again, you didn't stop the flick of your wrist against his erection. your soft palm dragged up and down his shaft and you felt it twitch.

a strong hand came to your wrist, his scratchy voice low, "w-wait."

you tilted your head, your silky strands fell down your shoulder as you all but pouted up at him, almost whining through your saliva-coated lips, "why?"

tugging you upwards, the forced you in his position quickly. your back met the wall, your eyes raking his figure as he fell down to his knees in front of you. his sharp eyes regarded your through his glasses, his words were undebatable, "your turn."

before you could yelp, or stop him with a strong hold on his shoulders, the man was raising your mini skirt and sliding off your slick-tainted panties to the side. his thumb collected your honeydew on it and he groaned, "shit, you're wet."

"i-" embarrassment wrote itself through every sinew of yours. you gulped quickly, arguing even quicker, "well, genius, what did you think would happen if i sucked you off? it'll be weirder if i was uh... dry."

"fair." the man raised a brow, bringing the same finger to his mouth and sucking it lewdly. he hummed round his digit, "sweet."

a quick strike on his head with your palm made him fall forward and stutter, "di-did you just hit me—?!"

despite the action, as tsukishima looked up at you. he knew he loved you. oh, you and your mouthy self.

you cut the man off with a high pitched retort, "don't say shit like we're in a fanfic or something! j-just do it if you have... have to."

tsukishima bunched his eyebrows, "you-" he grit his teeth, although flickers of amusement pooled in his eyes, "are you getting shy now?"

your cheeks flamed, "wh- no! i- y'know college guys aren't known for enthusiastically eat pussy. so, it's just... awkward."

"ah?" he grinned, "well i'm not your average guy."

"yeah." you nodded, agreeing quickly with a sly grin across your lips, "you're below average. in looks, for sure."

instead of running his mouth, he used his sultry muscle to run a thick stripe up and down your cunt. your knees bucked at his warmth against your heat, your eyes widening as he disappeared his face against your privates.

slick sopped out of your hole as tsukishima latched his pretty, pink lips around your clit and sucked hard. daring, he bit the nub and you yelped, "ah- asshole! be gentle."

you felt him smile against your wet cunt, thoroughly enjoying this mistreatment he was conducting on you. his words muffled against your honeyed sex, "sorry, y'know- first times. i'm a 'virgin.'"

your features bunched as he returned to his previous actions, flicking the tip of his expert tongue against your clit and eliciting strangled moans out of your lips. you managed in between gasps, "w-fuck, wait are you actually?"

tsukishima shrugged, not bothering answering if i involved him having to break away from your pretty pussy.

you laughed, "i was jus' teasing you but how... how do you manage to- fuck, right there!" you swallowed, eyes fluttering shut as you tilted your head upwards. taking in a deep breath, you continued your enquiry, "how did you manage being a virgin through all of college? especially, with being a jock- tsuki-! fuck... okay..."

the way the man was curling his tongue against your most sensitive parts, you were sure he was lying about his past. the thoughts in your head were rendered useless as you felt his digits press against your entrance before gently moving upwards to bury his fingers in your velvety hole.

"auh-!" you bucked forward, on edge by the sudden intrusion. suddenly aware of your falling balance, tsukishima sturdied you with a hand on your hip. the other curled within your walls, caressing the flesh with an intimacy that had your maw sagging open and moans of his name falling out. you called out desperately, "t-tsukishima...! fuck, fuck— my god."

your eyes rolled back, body slumping against the wall and only being held by the man buried in between your thighs. he continued his 'hither-to' motion inside you, using that gooey spot to make you come undone.

chants of his name left your mouth and at your sweet voice calling out his sweet four syllables, tsukishima's erection twitched. he moaned against you, trying to focus on collect all of your sweet, leaky juices down his parched throat instead of an ungodly, kinda-humiliating orgasm on the edge of which he was teetering.

his tip twitched as you continued gutturally calling out for his name. it was unabashed. the rooms of the club room were thin, you two knew that. you just didn't care. your voice became desperate, cracking round the edges as you screamed, "s-shit tsukki!"

fuck, that nickname?

the man clenched his eyes, burying his face in your heat, uncaring for the fact that your slick was currently clinging onto his eyewear like someone forlorn clings onto anything remotely holy. white oozed out of his tip, leaking down his shaft in heavy drops that tainted his skin and the hardware under him. his body shook, and above him he felt you come undone much the same.

your walls clamped down on his fingers, your hands grasping his blonde locks to bury him deeper against your cunt in an effort to let him drown in your divine nectar.

both of you heaved, and you felt yourself sliding down the same wall to collapse in his arms. his strong, muscled biceps wrapped around your clothed body and you felt the shiver in his chest as he held you close against himself. your eyes closed at his embrace and you tucked your face against the crook of his neck. safe.

weird. it was weird. how could a man like tsukishima kei, the man who quite literally fried your brain and made you wanna hurl every single for the past three years, make you feel... safe?

his voice was spent but steady, "there, there. calm down. i'm here. i'm here."

minutes ticked by and the room — which was once ablaze with the heat of sex and reckless, stupid decisions — was now growing colder. goosebumps rose against your skin as tsukishima kei lulled you into a feeling of safety against his slowly rising and falling chest.

soon though, as the feeling of ache and exhaustion dissipated from your bodies, you two came to your senses.

you pulled back, neck quite literally snapping up to look at him. you — the cheer captain, and him — the volleyball team captain. you both were half-naked and clutching each other as if the other would drift apart if not held as tightly as humanly possible. you and him?! you and the man you've spent three years agonizing over?! you and tsukishima kei???? seriously?!

your eyes met his and you swallowed, unable to do anything but part your mouth like a fish out of water. "uh..."

he looked just as confused as you at your current predicament, as if he hadn't been conscious for the previous part of it. as if he had been possessed by a succubus who had puppeteered him into fucking you on his tongue or something. he swallowed thickly as well, his adam's apple bobbing up and down, "uh... i- what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"me?" your eyes fluttered quick, as if the action will jog up your foggy memory to speed. you repeated cluelessly, "what was i talking about?"

"before-" his expression grew sheepish, "before we like... y'know?"

"oh? that?" you shook your head, "i just wanted to tell you to uh, lighten up a little. the team will get a... a boost if you're nicer to them."

"yeah." tsukishima nodded, his arms still around your waist, "true."

you blinked, "you're agreeing with me?"

he blinked, "uh, yes?"

"wow," a sly smile made to your lips, "if i knew sucking you off would make you stop being a pain, i would have done this ages ago."

his words grew fiery at your words, "oh shut up. if i knew you'd grow manners if i ate you out, i would have done it first."

you both stared at each-other, awkwardly realizing that you two have been down to fuck for a long, long time. was that the cause for this tension? were you two just pent up idiots who wanted to fuck each others brains out?!

you cleared your throat, attempting to get up without meeting his eyes head on, "i- whatever. let's go home. it's too late."

"yeah." he nodded, "grab your stuff. i- uh, i'll walk you home."

standing up, you stared down at him and scoffed, "i'm alright. i can walk to my apartment myself. just because we... did that doesn't make it any easier for me to stand you."

ah, you and your razor-sharp mouth. he loved you. and he looooved to push your buttons more.

"i-" he huffed under his breath, "god, you're so fucking difficult."

you quirked an eyebrow, crossing your arms across your chest, "i heard that."

"yeah, yeah." he stood up as well, dismissing you to put his pants back. pants remind you.

"by the way... did you actually cum untouched, tsukishima?"

"i-" he whipped around to stare daggers at you. his eyes narrowed as he spat out, "what do you mean untouched?! i was touching you, wasn't i? my face was burried in your pu—"

you laughed, giggling at his condition, "aww, poor virgin came undone while giving me some head? that's actually lowkey cute."

he fisted his palms, cheeks growing crimson red, "you- you watch your mouth."

you popped a hip out, giving him an unyielding look of steel, "or what?"

"or this virgin is gonna fuck all of that smartness out of your sharp mouth."

you parted your lips, and then closed it again. yeah... you two definitely needed another session, or two... or three, maybe even more to fully fuck all the nasty out. you swallowed, saving it for another time. "whatever. just walk me home for now."

"well," he looked at the floor where your juices had spilt on, "first, we gotta clean."

although groaning, you agreed. after another twenty minutes, tsukishima kei locked the club room and you two found yourselves walking out of the empty uni campus and onto the main road just outside the massive door. the trees on either side of the road were slowly drying, their lonesome leaves falling onto the ground in a continuous shower. the night air was cold.

"so..." you dragged on, fiddling with the hem of your skirt, "are you actually a virgin, tsukishima?"

the man shrugged, "how about i answer that the next time we're fucking?"

"uh," with crimson red cheeks and heavy lashes, you tried to keep up with his long strides. so, there was going to be another time, huh? you stared at the road, muttering, "as if i'd fuck you agan."

he bit back, "hah, and as if i'd answer your stupid question."

there you two were, back to bickering into the night air as you two walked over to your apartment.

well, i suppose no amount of fuck sessions could chip away both of your bickering. you were stuck with this blonde man, tsukishima kei and his utterly skilled annoying mouth. he was stuck with this sharp-mouthed cheer captain and her utterly pretty annoying face.

a/n: first time posting haikyuu kinda nervous 🤪🫣 posting a long fic after a long time lol. i started watching haikyuu and i luv luv luv these homos so much omg. (i... may or may not have started writing a daichi and a ukai fic as well.) also, i hit 100+ followers here (on this acc) so thankyou to anyone who followed. may you get some good, sloppy head soon [UNLESS YOU'RE A MINOR OR DON'T WANT TO] mwuah :))