ivy

The first time had been almost at the end of his first year at Jujutsu Technical College and 3 weeks after he had officially asked you out. The upperclassmen usually avoided him, put off by the so called "prodigy," but he had finally been able to strike up a conversation with them after the school's athletics carnival had went well. Suguru had kicked the football a total of 3 times and scored one goal, while Satoru had hogged the ball most of their first year match and scored over 10 goals, before Yaga had dragged him off of the field by his ear. 

"Ohhh, right, I saw you get dragged off," Haruto has nodded and yawned, scratching the back of his neck, while Yoshida had hummed. "Yeah, Sawako even wanted us to check up on you, pfft," he snorted before Haruto nudged him to shut up.

"Whaaat? I'm being a good friend," Yoshida scoffed and rolled his eyes with a prideful smile, before his eyes looked over at his tall underclassman again. "Yo, Satoru, do you have a girlfriend?" he asked bluntly, ignoring his friends glares and sighs of embarrassment and awkwardness. 

He had raised a confused eyebrow, before pointing his thumb back at the classroom. He was sure he had kissed you and held your hand on the bleachers that day, did they not see? More importantly, you were literally the most gorgeous and prettiest girl in his eyes, obviously someone as hot as him was perfectly paired with another otaku baddie like you! Pshhhh, maybe they couldn't believe someone like him has been able to pull you.

"Yeah. Her." His thumb pointed back at your figure in the empty classroom.

Yoshida and Haruto had peered into the classroom, only to see… some girl they had never seen before. Plain hair, plain eyes, plain uniform, and a plain you just pressing away at your Tamagotchi. Haruto and Yoshida shared a confused look, before Yoshida clicked his fingers and gasped. "O-oh yeah, that's the girl I was telling you about the other day! You know, the one who walked away when I was trying to ask her for directions?" Haruto nodded, eyes lighting up in recognition, before confusion washed over their faces at the same time.

How does one of the most extroverted and loud boys, fall and date someone like you? Someone who talks in class maybe once a week! someone who’s flip phone is used to play snake while Gojo’s is used to actually… talk to people!

"What?" They had blurted at the white haired student, going on and on about how someone like you should’ve hated someone like gojo, and that you were clearly not meant for each other, and how they were going to tell Sawako that it'd be a waste of her time to pursue Satoru. As if Satoru wasn't right there. His eyes narrowing and upper lip curling in obvious annoyance.

As if he’d let anyone insult you.

"Hey, dumbasses. That's my girlfriend you're talking about," he scoffed at him, pushing past and going back inside the classroom to sit next to you again. 

You had looked over at him curiously, showing him the small screen of your Tamagotchi. "Look, our child is growing," with that casual smile on your face. Satoru blinked, his face straight, before he broke out into coos and awhs, pinching your cheeks and suffocating you in kisses all over your face. "Aghhhh, get off of me! You lunatic!" You had huffed, while he was happily kissing your face all over, "you're such a good mother to our baby dragon! Awhhh, what's the name you chose for him again, my beautiful princess?"

You had huffed, looking a mess before sighing and giving the toy to him. "Sylus."

That day was one of the main reasons that Satoru avoided outright disclosing your relationship, preferring to show it to people instead. 

Nanami didn't need to ask when he finally had enrolled into JJT, as Satoru made it a habit to hold your hand at every chance he got, and kiss your cute face. Haibara, unfortunately, hadn't seen enough or gotten the clue, only seeing how quiet and standoffish you were, and made the brilliant terrible statement when you all were camping in the back of the forest behind JJT for fun. Unfortunately, Haibara had spoken right in front of Satoru fucking Gojo, or Satoru L/N as he'd prefer to be called. 

The fire crackled in the cold dark night, illuminating 6 faces in the forest, as the scent of pine and wet soil drifted through the air. "Y/N and Nanami would make a good pair, wouldn't they? They're so similar!" he had smiled happily and adjusted his hold on the marshmallow he was roasting, not noticing Suguru choking on his spit, Shoko looking up at him and even pausing in chewing her gum. He especially didn't notice Satoru freezing, when he was draping his expensive jacket over your shoulders, cold icy blue eyes glaring holes at the sweet boy's face.

"Converg—" Suguru had jumped to stop and tackle gojo to the ground before he could possibly have killed Haibara. 

After calming Gojo down, mostly by you looking at Gojo as if he was embarrassing you and him whining apologies to you, Haibara had finally been made aware that Gojo and you were dating. "Ohhh, you're Y/N's boyfriend, sorry Satoru, I didn't know," Haibara had chuckled and nodded his head in an apology. 

"We're married," he lifted his hand to show a string you had tied around his ring finger a few minutes ago while fidgeting with him quietly. "We're not married," you shook your head bluntly, correcting him with a straight face.

"Engaged. We're engaged." he nodded proudly and flipped his hair back, all cool and already thinking about wanting to whip out his digital camera and force Suguru to take more shots of him for his fans. "We're 17, Satoru."

"We have a child." "I have a Tamagotchi pet… one that you get jealous of."

"We're madly in love then." He nodded again, not shy or embarrassed after being shut down by you so many times. He waited, Suguru waited, even Nanami waited, wanting to hear you correct Satoru's claim. Only after a full minute had passed, Satoru smirked, a blush on his cheeks as he shrugged, "see, she loves me. Hah," he smirked and stuck his tongue out at Nanami for a split second, knowing the blond man had been doubting him.

That's when he felt your lips press against his cheek. Very rarely did you initiate an sort of romantic gestures, let alone kisses. 

His face had turned beet red, while you were looking at him confused. Blinking blankly, and Suguru laughing loudly in the background. Yes, Satoru did love his girlfriend, more than he loved anyone or anything else, and much to peoples complaints . . .

She was a perfect match for him.

The first time had been almost at the end of his first year at Jujutsu Technical College and 3 weeks after he had officially asked you out. The upperclassmen usually avoided him, put off by the so called "prodigy," but he had finally been able to strike up a conversation with them after the school's athletics carnival had went well. Suguru had kicked the football a total of 3 times and scored one goal, while Satoru had hogged the ball most of their first year match and scored over 10 goals, before Yaga had dragged him off of the field by his ear. 

"Ohhh, right, I saw you get dragged off," Haruto has nodded and yawned, scratching the back of his neck, while Yoshida had hummed. "Yeah, Sawako even wanted us to check up on you, pfft," he snorted before Haruto nudged him to shut up.

"Whaaat? I'm being a good friend," Yoshida scoffed and rolled his eyes with a prideful smile, before his eyes looked over at his tall underclassman again. "Yo, Satoru, do you have a girlfriend?" he asked bluntly, ignoring his friends glares and sighs of embarrassment and awkwardness. 

He had raised a confused eyebrow, before pointing his thumb back at the classroom. He was sure he had kissed you and held your hand on the bleachers that day, did they not see? More importantly, you were literally the most gorgeous and prettiest girl in his eyes, obviously someone as hot as him was perfectly paired with another otaku baddie like you! Pshhhh, maybe they couldn't believe someone like him has been able to pull you.

"Yeah. Her." His thumb pointed back at your figure in the empty classroom.

Yoshida and Haruto had peered into the classroom, only to see… some girl they had never seen before. Plain hair, plain eyes, plain uniform, and a plain you just pressing away at your Tamagotchi. Haruto and Yoshida shared a confused look, before Yoshida clicked his fingers and gasped. "O-oh yeah, that's the girl I was telling you about the other day! You know, the one who walked away when I was trying to ask her for directions?" Haruto nodded, eyes lighting up in recognition, before confusion washed over their faces at the same time.

How does one of the most extroverted and loud boys, fall and date someone like you? Someone who talks in class maybe once a week! someone who’s flip phone is used to play snake while Gojo’s is used to actually… talk to people!

"What?" They had blurted at the white haired student, going on and on about how someone like you should’ve hated someone like gojo, and that you were clearly not meant for each other, and how they were going to tell Sawako that it'd be a waste of her time to pursue Satoru. As if Satoru wasn't right there. His eyes narrowing and upper lip curling in obvious annoyance.

As if he’d let anyone insult you.

"Hey, dumbasses. That's my girlfriend you're talking about," he scoffed at him, pushing past and going back inside the classroom to sit next to you again. 

You had looked over at him curiously, showing him the small screen of your Tamagotchi. "Look, our child is growing," with that casual smile on your face. Satoru blinked, his face straight, before he broke out into coos and awhs, pinching your cheeks and suffocating you in kisses all over your face. "Aghhhh, get off of me! You lunatic!" You had huffed, while he was happily kissing your face all over, "you're such a good mother to our baby dragon! Awhhh, what's the name you chose for him again, my beautiful princess?"

You had huffed, looking a mess before sighing and giving the toy to him. "Sylus."

That day was one of the main reasons that Satoru avoided outright disclosing your relationship, preferring to show it to people instead. 

Nanami didn't need to ask when he finally had enrolled into JJT, as Satoru made it a habit to hold your hand at every chance he got, and kiss your cute face. Haibara, unfortunately, hadn't seen enough or gotten the clue, only seeing how quiet and standoffish you were, and made the brilliant terrible statement when you all were camping in the back of the forest behind JJT for fun. Unfortunately, Haibara had spoken right in front of Satoru fucking Gojo, or Satoru L/N as he'd prefer to be called. 

The fire crackled in the cold dark night, illuminating 6 faces in the forest, as the scent of pine and wet soil drifted through the air. "Y/N and Nanami would make a good pair, wouldn't they? They're so similar!" he had smiled happily and adjusted his hold on the marshmallow he was roasting, not noticing Suguru choking on his spit, Shoko looking up at him and even pausing in chewing her gum. He especially didn't notice Satoru freezing, when he was draping his expensive jacket over your shoulders, cold icy blue eyes glaring holes at the sweet boy's face.

"Converg—" Suguru had jumped to stop and tackle gojo to the ground before he could possibly have killed Haibara. 

After calming Gojo down, mostly by you looking at Gojo as if he was embarrassing you and him whining apologies to you, Haibara had finally been made aware that Gojo and you were dating. "Ohhh, you're Y/N's boyfriend, sorry Satoru, I didn't know," Haibara had chuckled and nodded his head in an apology. 

"We're married," he lifted his hand to show a string you had tied around his ring finger a few minutes ago while fidgeting with him quietly. "We're not married," you shook your head bluntly, correcting him with a straight face.

"Engaged. We're engaged." he nodded proudly and flipped his hair back, all cool and already thinking about wanting to whip out his digital camera and force Suguru to take more shots of him for his fans. "We're 17, Satoru."

"We have a child." "I have a Tamagotchi pet… one that you get jealous of."

"We're madly in love then." He nodded again, not shy or embarrassed after being shut down by you so many times. He waited, Suguru waited, even Nanami waited, wanting to hear you correct Satoru's claim. Only after a full minute had passed, Satoru smirked, a blush on his cheeks as he shrugged, "see, she loves me. Hah," he smirked and stuck his tongue out at Nanami for a split second, knowing the blond man had been doubting him.

That's when he felt your lips press against his cheek. Very rarely did you initiate an sort of romantic gestures, let alone kisses. 

His face had turned beet red, while you were looking at him confused. Blinking blankly, and Suguru laughing loudly in the background. Yes, Satoru did love his girlfriend, more than he loved anyone or anything else, and much to peoples complaints . . .

She was a perfect match for him.

“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.”

he’s got you on your back, your wrists pinned above your head with one hand, and he’s been teasing you for what feels like hours. his fingers are inside you, two of them, curling against that spot that makes your vision blur. you’re close—so close—and he knows it. he always knows.

"t-toru, please," you beg, your voice cracking. "i need—i need to cum—"

"yeah?" he murmurs, his thumb brushing your clit in the lightest, most maddening touch. "you need it? is my pretty girl all worked up?"

you nod frantically, your hips rolling, trying to chase the sensation. he pulls his hand away entirely. you sob. "no, n-no, please—"

"aw, baby," he coos, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "you're so pathetic. it’s cute." he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean while you watch, helpless. "you taste good when you’re begging."

he starts again, his fingers sliding back inside you, his pace agonizingly slow. you’re panting, your thighs shaking, your mind going fuzzy at the edges. "toru! i can’t—i can’t take it—"

"yes, you can," he says, his voice calm, almost gentle. "you'll take whatever i give you. you wanna be good, don't you?" he curls his fingers, pressing hard, and you nearly scream. "that’s it. feel that? that’s mine. your pleasure is mine. i decide when you get it."

you’re crying now, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, your body trembling. he leans down, his lips brushing your ear. "you’re so pretty when you’re dumb like this. can’t even think, can you? just a pretty little toy for me." he adds a third finger, stretching you open, and you wail. "that’s okay, baby. you don’t need to think. i’ll do it for you. all you have to do is take it. you can do that, can't you?"

he brings you to the edge again, and again, and again. each time, he pulls back just before you can fall. your mind is gone, your body is on fire, and all you can do is sob his name like it’s the only word you know.

"satoru, p-please!!" you whimper, your voice hoarse. "i’ll do anything. please lemme cum, i-it hurts!"

he smiles, that sharp, wicked smile that means he’s nowhere near done with you. "it hurts?" he asks, his fingers still moving, still torturing you. you nod desperately. "poor baby," he mocks. "we can't have my sweetheart in pain, now can we?"

he presses his thumb to your clit and curls his fingers one last time, and you shatter. your orgasm crashes over you so hard you can’t breathe, your vision going white, your body convulsing. he doesn’t stop. he keeps his fingers moving, dragging it out, forcing you through it until you’re shaking and sobbing and begging him to stop.

"too muchh!!" you gasp. "s'toruu! it’s too much—"

"shh, hush now," he says, his voice low and dark. "you can take it, you're doing so well."

he shifts, his cock replacing his fingers, and you barely have time to process before he’s pushing inside you, filling you completely. you’re so sensitive, so overstimulated, that the stretch is almost painful. you cry out, your hands fisting the sheets.

"thaaat’s it," he groans, his hips snapping forward. "take my cock. take it like the good girl you are. you’re so—shit— so fucking tight after you cum, baby. feels so good." he fucks you hard, his pace relentless, his hand sliding between you to rub your clit again. "you still with me?"

you’re babbling now, your words slurring together, your mind completely gone. "satoru—fuck—i can’t—i can’t!!—"

you cum again, your walls clamping down on him so hard he groans, his rhythm faltering. he fucks you through it, his hand still working your clit, and you’re sobbing, your body shaking, your mind nothing but static and pleasure and him.

"that’s it," he praises, his voice rough. "good girl. such a good girl for me. look at you, so stupid. can’t even speak, can you?"

he cums with a groan, his hips stuttering, his cock pulsing inside you. you feel the heat of it, the way he fills you, and it sends you over the edge one more time, your third orgasm ripping through you like lightning. you’re crying, your body trembling, your mind completely blank.

he collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot against your neck. for a long moment, neither of you moves. then he rolls off you, pulling you into his arms, his hand stroking your hair.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice soft now, gentle. you nod, your face buried in his chest.

"you’re mean," you mumble.

he laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "yeah. but you love me."

you don’t answer. you just press closer, your body still humming, your mind still fuzzy. and yeah. you do.

--

babygirl : @sadisticslut666

he takes a breath, then pushes harder. you cry out as he forces another inch in, the pain sharp and bright, mixed with a pleasure that makes your toes curl. he’s buried deep now, but still not all the way. you can feel the empty space inside you, the part of him still outside, and it drives you crazy.

satoru starts to move, shallow thrusts at first, pulling out just enough to let your body adjust before pressing back in. each time, the stretch is remade, your cunt screaming in protest and welcome. your moans turn into a steady stream of incoherent pleas—faster, more, harder, please—and he obliges, picking up the pace.

but his cock is too big. no matter how much you want it, no matter how wet you get, you can’t take him fully. your body tells you in little spasms, in the way you clench and release without rhythm, in the tear tracks that streak your cheeks. he sees them, slows down.

“too much?” he asks, and his thumb wipes at your cheek.

“don’t stop,” you choke out. “don’t stop.”

so he doesn’t. he fucks you with everything he’s got, hips snapping against yours, the wet sound of your pussy taking what it can filling the room. you can feel every ridge of his cock, every vein, the way he pulses inside you. your hands rake down his back, leaving red marks, and he growls, fucks you harder.

it’s not long before you come. the orgasm builds like a wave, cresting over you as he grinds against that spot inside you that makes your vision go white. your legs clamp around his waist, pulling him deeper, and you scream into his neck as you come undone, pussy clenching around him in violent pulsing waves.

but he doesn’t stop.

“s-satoru, wait, i’m still—” you gasp, overstimulated, sensitive, raw. the feeling of him still moving inside you after your orgasm is almost too much, a pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

“i know,” he says, and he’s not cruel, but he’s relentless. “one more. just one more for me, baby. you can do it.”

you’re shaking, trembling, your thighs quivering as he thrusts. the overstimulation amplifies everything—the stretch, the friction, the fullness. every brush of his cock against your walls sends jolts of electricity through your nerves. you’re crying now, a mix of ecstasy and exhaustion, but you don’t tell him to stop. you can’t. you need this, need him to use you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, cum-drunk mess.

he watches you fall apart, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. his hand snakes down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, swollen and oversensitive. he rubs circles, light and fast, and you arch off the bed again, a broken moan tearing from your throat.

“that’s it,” he murmurs. “come on. give me another one.”

your second orgasm is less explosive but longer, a drawn-out, messy affair. your entire body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending lit up, as you cum around his too-big cock, still buried inside you, still moving. you feel his rhythm stutter, feel his heat spill inside you, deep and hot and endless. he groans your name as he cums, and the feeling of being filled by him, even though he never fit completely, is the final push you needed.

he pulls out gently, careful not to hurt you, and you both collapse on the wet sheets. his cock is still hard, still slick with your combined fluids, and you can see the way your entrance gapes, the redness, the evidence of what you’ve done. he kisses your forehead.

“you okay?” he asks again, softer this time.

you don’t have the breath to answer, so you just nod, curling into his chest. you feel the soreness already settling in, the dull ache that will bloom into something more tomorrow. but right now, you still feel him inside you, even though he’s not. that phantom fullness.

he’s still hard, pressing against your thigh. you can feel his breath quicken, and you know he’s not done yet. “one more,” he whispers, and the words are a command and a plea, all at once. “please. i need—again. i need you to take it again.”

you should say no. you should tell him you need a break, that your body can’t handle another round. but the way he looks at you, desperate and hungry, and the way your pussy still clenches around nothing, aches for him despite the pain—it overrides any sense.

“okay,” you whisper. “okay. but go slow.”

“i will,” he says, and he’s already positioning himself, already pressing the head of his cock against your overworked entrance. you hiss at the immediate stretch, the burn returning with a vengeance. he pushes in, inch by inch, and you can feel every fold of your cunt being forced open, made to accommodate him even though it never will.

your cries turn into sobs as he bottoms out—or rather, as he reaches the point where you can’t take any more. he strokes inside you, slow and deep, and the overstimulation is a living thing now, a fire that consumes you from the inside out. every nerve is screaming. your clit is so sore you can’t bear the thought of touch, yet when he reaches down and pinches it, you scream, a mix of agony and bliss.

your boyfriend fucks you like that, slow but punishing, milking your oversensitive body for all it’s worth. you’re a mess of tears and sweat and cum, legs trembling, hands fisting the sheets. he doesn’t stop until you’re choking on another orgasm, this one weak and painful, barely a shudder before you’re done.

he follows close behind, spilling into you again, his cum mixing with his own before it leaks out around his cock. he stays buried for a long moment, breathing hard, before pulling out. you’re left lying there, empty and shattered, your cunt fluttering, trying to hold onto something that’s too big to stay.

satoru collapses beside you, pulling you close. “that was—fuck.” he laughs, a low, exhausted sound. “you’re amazing.”

you can’t find the words, so you just press a kiss to his chest and let the slick, messy aftermath settle around you both, the ache of being stretched beyond your limit a warm, persistent throb that promises to haunt you for days.