𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗲

"Qi... don't be mean," you pout, trying to look incredibly cute so she can't say no to you.

"Oh sweetie, look at you," she cooed, reaching one hand out to gently tug at your wrist. "What happened to my brave girl?"

You felt your face burn hotter, knees pressing into the soft sheets as you hovered there, totally exposed. Your heart was racing so fast and Qifrey's body being right there, all smooth skin and gentle curves, was not helping.

"Qi, please," you whimpered, it came out more like a needy plea. Your thumbs kept twisting together nervously while your thighs trembled.

She smiled wider, biting her lower lip for a second before sitting up a little more. "Alright, alright. I won't be too mean. Come here, dear." Her voice dropped softer, guiding you with both hands now, one on your hip and the other sliding up your thigh. She pulled you forward until your bodies met, her warmth pressing right against yours.

You gasped the moment your pussy slid along hers, slick and hot and so much better than you imagined. Qifrey let out a pleased hum, her hands settling on your waist to help you find the rhythm. "There we go… just like that. Move your hips, baby. Grind against me nice and slow."

She rocked up to meet you, her wet folds rubbing perfectly with yours in a slippery way. Every little shift sent sparks through your whole body. You were a total mess, moaning softly and gripping her shoulders for balance while she kept teasing you with that knowing smile.

"F-feels sooo good, Qi!" you whined, leaning to be closer to her.

"See? Not so scary," Qifrey whispered as she guided you a little faster. Her own cheeks were flushed now, but she still managed to look in control, loving how you fell apart on top of her. "You're doing so good for me. Keep going… let me feel all of you."

Her hands roamed up your back, pulling you closer so your tits pressed together too, skin sliding against skin as the pleasure built between your legs. You could barely think straight anymore, just chasing that sweet friction while Qifrey whispered encouragement mixed with little giggles at how wrecked you already looked.

"Ah ah! Qi!" you cried out, voice cracking as the pleasure built up too fast and too strong. Your thighs shook hard around her and you pressed down desperately, chasing that perfect friction.

Qifrey's eyes widened a little, but her smile turned wicked and fond all at once. "Let go for me, baby" she whispered, rocking up to meet every frantic movement of your hips.

It hit you all at once. Your whole body tensed, then shattered. You came hard and loud, a broken whine tearing from your throat as you buried your face against her neck. "Qifrey! Qifrey, please—oh god, Qi!"

Your voice came out all needy and wrecked, repeating her name like a prayer while your pussy throbbed and clenched against hers. Waves of pleasure crashed through you, making your hips jerk messily as you soaked her with how much you came.

Qifrey let out a breathy laugh that turned into a moan of her own when she felt you pulsing against her. She held you tight through it, one hand stroking your back while the other kept your hips moving just enough to drag out every last bit of your orgasm.

"There you go… such a good girl," she said against your hair, sounding a little breathless herself. "You're adorable when you fall apart like this."

You could barely reply, your pussy was still pressed flush against hers, while Qifrey gently rocked you through it, she was clearly enjoying every second of you being a complete needy mess for her.

a/n: everyone get butch!qifrey pilled NOWWWW

“You have excellent lines,” she told you one evening. She had finished a full page of studies, but instead of letting you leave, she kept you there with tea and conversation. “The way your shoulders slope, the curve of your waist. It’s rare to find a model who makes everything feel alive on the page.”

You smiled, a little flattered. “I’m glad I can help.”

From then on, the sessions stretched longer. She started calling you on days you weren’t scheduled, asking small questions about your day, what you ate, how you felt. At first you thought it was just friendliness, but the calls grew more frequent. She wanted to know your schedule. She wanted to see you more often.

One night after a particularly long session, Rohan set her sketchbook aside and looked at you with an intensity that made your stomach flutter. “Stay a bit longer,” she said softly. “I want to draw your hands up close.”

You stayed. And then you stayed again the next time. And the time after that.

Her obsession revealed itself gradually, never overwhelming at first. She would cancel other appointments just to fit you in. She started buying clothes she thought would look good on you for references, little gifts that she insisted were for the work. But her eyes when she watched you change told a different story. Rohan wanted you there, in her space, under her attention. Constantly.

You didn’t mind, there was something intoxicating about being the center of her world. Rohan was brilliant, passionate and when she focused on you, nothing else existed.

Weeks blurred into months. The professional line dissolved somewhere between late-night talks and shared meals. One evening, after you’d posed for hours in a silk robe she had chosen, Rohan set her tools down and crossed the room to you. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she admitted. “Even when I close my eyes to sleep, I see your form. The way you move. The way you breathe. I need you closer.”

Your heart raced, you leaned in and she kissed you like she had been starving for it, her fingers sliding into your hair as if she wanted to memorize every sensation.

From that night forward, everything changed. Rohan still drew you, but now the sessions ended with her pulling you into her arms, kissing along your neck, whispering how perfect you were. She wanted you at the studio every day, she wanted good morning texts and good night calls. She wanted to know every detail of your life so she could weave you into her thoughts, her art, her everything.

And then came the night you both knew was inevitable.

You arrived at her apartment late, Rohan greeted you at the door in a loose button-up shirt, her hair slightly tousled from a long day of work. She simply took your hand and led you to her bedroom.

The room was intimate, Rohan turned to you, eyes dark with want. “I’ve drawn you so many times,” she whispered, fingers tracing the collar of your shirt. “But I need to see all of you. Really see you.”

You nodded, letting her undress you slowly. Piece by piece, your clothes fell away until you stood bare before her. Rohan’s breath caught, she stepped back for a moment, you were the most beautiful reference she had ever encountered. Then she guided you to the bed, laying you down with gentle hands.

She shed her own clothes quickly, revealing smooth skin and a lean body shaped by years of focused work. But tonight wasn’t about her. It was about you. Rohan crawled over you, eyes drinking in every inch of your naked form.

“You’re exquisite,” she whispered, voice full of awe. Her lips brushed your collarbone, then lower, trailing soft kisses down the center of your chest. “Every curve, every line… I’ve memorized them on paper, but feeling you like this is so much better.”

Her hands explored you reverently, palms gliding over your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened under her touch. You arched into her, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Rohan smiled against your skin. “That’s it. You’re so responsive for me.”

She took her time, worshipping every part of you. Her mouth followed where her hands had been, sucking gently on one nipple while her fingers teased the other. The praise flowed from her warm and sincere. “You’re perfect here,” she said, kissing down your ribs. “So soft and strong at the same time. My beautiful muse.”

Lower still, until her breath ghosted over your thighs. She parted them gently, settling between them. Rohan looked up at you, eyes locked on yours. “I want to make you feel everything. You deserve to be adored like this.”

Her tongue traced a deliberate path along your folds, tasting you with a low hum of satisfaction. You moaned, fingers threading through her green hair. She licked and sucked with focused devotion, learning exactly what made your hips buck and your voice break. One hand slid up your body to hold yours, fingers intertwined, while the other pressed a thigh open wider.

“You taste soo good,” she whispered against you, voice vibrating pleasantly. “So wet for me already. I could stay here forever, just pleasing you.” Her tongue circled your clit with increasing pressure, alternating between soft flicks and firmer strokes. She slipped two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly, finding that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

“Mmm, Ro-Rohan please…” you whimpered softly.

The pleasure built steadily, overwhelming in its intensity. Rohan never stopped praising you. “You’re incredible,” she whispered between licks. “Look at how beautifully you open up for me. I love how you tremble when I do this.” She sucked your clit gently, fingers thrusting in a steady rhythm.

Your body tightened, thighs shaking around her shoulders. She held you through it, never faltering. “Cum for me, love. You’re mine to worship like this. Let go.”

The orgasm crashed over you hard, waves of pleasure ripping through every nerve. You cried out, back arching off the bed as she worked you through it, tongue and fingers relentless until you were shuddering and gasping her name. She gentled her movements, drawing out every last pulse of ecstasy, kissing your thighs and murmuring soft words of adoration.

Rohan crawled back up your body. She pulled you into her arms, pressing kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. “You’re everything,” she said quietly, holding you close. “I could draw you a thousand times and never capture how you make me feel.”

jean was hard. his tip was red and leaking with precum. he stroked himself a few times before walking up to the foot of the bed. “come over here, pretty.” without hesitation, you complied and met him at the edge of the bed. reiner watched from the bed as you kissed jean. it was slow at first, his lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss, then it turned hungry. he cupped your face and pulled you impossibly close, practically stealing your breath. he kissed you like you were his oxygen and he was running out. you lowered your hand and pumped the base of his cock as you kissed him back with the same passion. he grunted softly and you felt him twitch in your hand.

you felt reiner before you heard him. his large hands gripped your waist and pulled you away from jean. jean narrowed his eyes at him, but stroked himself as he watch the two of you kiss. you tangled your hands in reiner’s hair and he groaned softly. after a bit, he broke the kiss and started to trail kisses down your neck, quickly making his way down your chest. when he got to your tits, he turned to jean with a grin.

reiner didn’t have to say anything, jean immediately knew what he had in mind. the two men took each breast in their mouths and sucked gently. you moaned at the contact. the feeling of their tongues swirling around your nipples sent a shiver down your spine. your hands quickly found their way in their hair. you threw your head back and cried out their names, tugging at their hair slightly.

after the two of them argued over who could fuck you first, you laid on your back and spread your legs wide. reiner won since he’s thicker and could “stretch you out first.” he’s just being greedy, really, but so is jean.

the second reiner slipped inside of you, jean’s lips found yours. he snaked his hand between your legs and rubbed your clit in gentle circles with his thumb. you moaned into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. reiner’s thick cock split you open, each inch had you trembling underneath him. the slow drag of his cock against your walls was agonizing. his name escaped from your lips, warm walls hugging his thick cock tightly.

“you’re doing so well beautiful, taking me so well.” he said. you whined and spread your legs further apart. he angled his hips slightly and somehow reached even deeper inside of your tight cunt. “rei,” you cried out softly. he let out a low groan himself as your walls clenched around him. jean lowered his head down, lips finding your breast again. his brown eyes locked with yours as he swirled his tongue around your nipple. mouth slightly agape, your hands flew to his hair to tug at it. this only egged jean further. a sinful moan left you, his mouth hot on your tits.

the pressure building in your lower abdomen signaled that you were close. you clenched around reiner even tighter, earning another groan from him.

“you’re close pretty?” reiner murmured, dropping his head to your neck. he sucked the skin gently.

“uh huh,” you heard yourself reply.

reiner moved his hips faster, balls slapping against your ass with each stroke. you cried out his name and buried your face in his neck. “feels so good rei—fuck—i’m coming,” your orgasm crashed over you, hard and fast. you clung to reiner’s bicep to ground yourself. his hips slowed as he approached his own high. he buried you to the hilt before coming deep inside of you. after catching his breath, he slowly pulled out and watched as his seed dropped out of your aching cunt. the greedy man pushed some back in with his fingers before leaning down to give you a kiss.

“you did amazing,” he murmured against your lips. mind hazy, you kissed him back slowly. your legs felt like jelly, but there was still jean. his erection was pressed against your thigh. you reached over and stroked it with your hand lazily. he grunted and shifted on the bed beside you.

“you okay?” he whispered to you. you looked up and met his eyes.

“yes,” you muttered. you glanced down to his leaking tip in your palm.

reiner kissed your cheek and leaned over to kiss jean’s. “treat her nicely,” he said with a grin. jean raised an eyebrow at him. “i always do, don’t i?”

you nodded eagerly. “mhm,” your hand traveled to the base of his cock. you stroked him gently and his eyes fluttered shut. reiner cupped his face before kissing him. jean shuddered into the kiss, cock twitching in your hand. you giggled as you watched him squirm under your touch. reiner broke the kiss and titled his head at you.

“you’re just gonna tease him the whole time? damn." jean glared at him and turned to you. “no more teasing… please?” he frowned and you almost felt bad. almost.

you were sitting in the middle of your two boyfriends who were, despite one of them just coming inside of you, were still very, very horny.

“hmmm, okay.” you tugged his hand and pushed him back into the bed. he smirked the second you swung a leg over his lap. grabbing the head, you teased your wet folds with the tip of his cock. jean, impatient as ever, kissed your shoulder and bucked his hips up each time you pressed his tip into your entrance. reiner’s lips were captured on jean’s ear, nibbling lightly.

finally, you sank down on jean’s cock, slowly taking him inch by inch. you bit your lip as you struggled to take all of him. jean was on the longer side. riding him always took a second to get used to. you gasped when he bottomed out and clenched around him. smacking your ass, he groaned and leaned his head in the headboard.

“so tight, baby. i thought rei you stretched out enough…”

reiner, who was now on the corner of the bed, stroking his half-hard cock with his hand, glared at jean.

“i did.”

jean chuckled, leaning back to angle his hips. seems like he was gonna do all the work right off the bat. you were glad, your legs still felt weak from earlier. jean shook his head with a chuckle. he looked up with you, eyes dark with lust, and kissed your jaw.

“gonna make you come so hard you see stars.”

he grabbed your hips and started thrusting into you at a steady pace. your hands found his shoulders to steady yourself as he bullied your gummy walls. the way he reached so deep inside of your pussy, hitting that spot, made you moan out his name.

“yeah i know baby, i know, you’re doing so good for me,” he praised softly. he smacked your ass occasionally, and cursed under his breath every time your hips met and you became one. "you weren't this loud for rei, now were you?"

"jeann," you whined softly. you were overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of the friction of rubbing against his pelvis. in the far back of your mind, you could hear reiner’s broken moans and curses as he came undone in his palm. he jerked himself off to way your ass rippled every time you sunk back down on jean’s cock again and the way your tits bounced as jean met his hips with yours. jean chased your own climax, angling his hips just right so his cock could curve and hit your g spot with every thrust.

jean’s eyes locked with yours as you came. the feeling took you over and you collapsed on his chest. your eyes fluttered shut as your chest heaved. he joined you shortly after, hips stuttering before he stilled, emptying his seed.

“jesus christ,” he muttered under his breath. reiner grunted at the corner of the bed. you were speechless. you could barely even think straight. you felt two hands lift you and place you in the bed. the two men worked quietly to clean you up. a warm rag to clean up, and bubble bath to relax, and light kisses to shower you with love.

you found yourself in the middle of them again in the bubble bath. you splashed the two of them with water sly grin.

“perverts! what do you have to say for yourself?” you teased.

they exchanged a glance before deadpanning.

“i blame the lingerie.”

“You have excellent lines,” she told you one evening. She had finished a full page of studies, but instead of letting you leave, she kept you there with tea and conversation. “The way your shoulders slope, the curve of your waist. It’s rare to find a model who makes everything feel alive on the page.”

You smiled, a little flattered. “I’m glad I can help.”

From then on, the sessions stretched longer. She started calling you on days you weren’t scheduled, asking small questions about your day, what you ate, how you felt. At first you thought it was just friendliness, but the calls grew more frequent. She wanted to know your schedule. She wanted to see you more often.

One night after a particularly long session, Rohan set her sketchbook aside and looked at you with an intensity that made your stomach flutter. “Stay a bit longer,” she said softly. “I want to draw your hands up close.”

You stayed. And then you stayed again the next time. And the time after that.

Her obsession revealed itself gradually, never overwhelming at first. She would cancel other appointments just to fit you in. She started buying clothes she thought would look good on you for references, little gifts that she insisted were for the work. But her eyes when she watched you change told a different story. Rohan wanted you there, in her space, under her attention. Constantly.

You didn’t mind, there was something intoxicating about being the center of her world. Rohan was brilliant, passionate and when she focused on you, nothing else existed.

Weeks blurred into months. The professional line dissolved somewhere between late-night talks and shared meals. One evening, after you’d posed for hours in a silk robe she had chosen, Rohan set her tools down and crossed the room to you. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she admitted. “Even when I close my eyes to sleep, I see your form. The way you move. The way you breathe. I need you closer.”

Your heart raced, you leaned in and she kissed you like she had been starving for it, her fingers sliding into your hair as if she wanted to memorize every sensation.

From that night forward, everything changed. Rohan still drew you, but now the sessions ended with her pulling you into her arms, kissing along your neck, whispering how perfect you were. She wanted you at the studio every day, she wanted good morning texts and good night calls. She wanted to know every detail of your life so she could weave you into her thoughts, her art, her everything.

And then came the night you both knew was inevitable.

You arrived at her apartment late, Rohan greeted you at the door in a loose button-up shirt, her hair slightly tousled from a long day of work. She simply took your hand and led you to her bedroom.

The room was intimate, Rohan turned to you, eyes dark with want. “I’ve drawn you so many times,” she whispered, fingers tracing the collar of your shirt. “But I need to see all of you. Really see you.”

You nodded, letting her undress you slowly. Piece by piece, your clothes fell away until you stood bare before her. Rohan’s breath caught, she stepped back for a moment, you were the most beautiful reference she had ever encountered. Then she guided you to the bed, laying you down with gentle hands.

She shed her own clothes quickly, revealing smooth skin and a lean body shaped by years of focused work. But tonight wasn’t about her. It was about you. Rohan crawled over you, eyes drinking in every inch of your naked form.

“You’re exquisite,” she whispered, voice full of awe. Her lips brushed your collarbone, then lower, trailing soft kisses down the center of your chest. “Every curve, every line… I’ve memorized them on paper, but feeling you like this is so much better.”

Her hands explored you reverently, palms gliding over your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened under her touch. You arched into her, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Rohan smiled against your skin. “That’s it. You’re so responsive for me.”

She took her time, worshipping every part of you. Her mouth followed where her hands had been, sucking gently on one nipple while her fingers teased the other. The praise flowed from her warm and sincere. “You’re perfect here,” she said, kissing down your ribs. “So soft and strong at the same time. My beautiful muse.”

Lower still, until her breath ghosted over your thighs. She parted them gently, settling between them. Rohan looked up at you, eyes locked on yours. “I want to make you feel everything. You deserve to be adored like this.”

Her tongue traced a deliberate path along your folds, tasting you with a low hum of satisfaction. You moaned, fingers threading through her green hair. She licked and sucked with focused devotion, learning exactly what made your hips buck and your voice break. One hand slid up your body to hold yours, fingers intertwined, while the other pressed a thigh open wider.

“You taste soo good,” she whispered against you, voice vibrating pleasantly. “So wet for me already. I could stay here forever, just pleasing you.” Her tongue circled your clit with increasing pressure, alternating between soft flicks and firmer strokes. She slipped two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly, finding that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

“Mmm, Ro-Rohan please…” you whimpered softly.

The pleasure built steadily, overwhelming in its intensity. Rohan never stopped praising you. “You’re incredible,” she whispered between licks. “Look at how beautifully you open up for me. I love how you tremble when I do this.” She sucked your clit gently, fingers thrusting in a steady rhythm.

Your body tightened, thighs shaking around her shoulders. She held you through it, never faltering. “Cum for me, love. You’re mine to worship like this. Let go.”

The orgasm crashed over you hard, waves of pleasure ripping through every nerve. You cried out, back arching off the bed as she worked you through it, tongue and fingers relentless until you were shuddering and gasping her name. She gentled her movements, drawing out every last pulse of ecstasy, kissing your thighs and murmuring soft words of adoration.

Rohan crawled back up your body. She pulled you into her arms, pressing kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. “You’re everything,” she said quietly, holding you close. “I could draw you a thousand times and never capture how you make me feel.”

You think you’re gonna die too. Because there’s heat pooling between your legs, and you're pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties, and this was supposed to be your first normal date. Not a panty-ruining, thigh-clenching disaster where you keep imagining his stupid hot fingers pulling your hoodie up and touching you like you're not both trembling virgins about to combust from one misplaced touch.

Satoru’s voice cracks in the dark.

“You, uh— are you okay?”

You look at him, wide-eyed. “What? Yeah. I’m fine.”

He fidgets. “You’re breathing kinda fast.”

You are. Shit.

“I’m just…” you squirm, thighs pressed tight together. “The seats are uncomfortable.”

He makes a strangled little laugh, eyes darting to the screen and then back to your mouth. You don’t know who moves first, but a second later, your hands are brushing in the popcorn bag and boom— your bodies are pressed together like magnets.

The movie is completely forgotten. You’re both leaning toward each other, breathing the same hot air, and it’s dizzying how close he is. His scent is soft and clean, like soap and sugar and some light cologne that makes your thighs ache. Your lips almost brush before he pulls back, cheeks pink.

“I-I gotta pee,” he blurts. Then winces. “Fuck. Not like— fuck, I didn’t mean it like—”

You stare at him, lips parted.

“…Me too,” you whisper. “Bathroom. I mean.”

So of course, of course, ten minutes later, you’re both in the tiny single-stall bathroom behind the snack bar, the door locked, and you’re pressed against the wall with Satoru’s hands hovering an inch from your waist like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch you.

You’re panting.

So is he.

And there’s the faintest bulge pressing against his pants.

“You’re hard,” you whisper, stunned.

Satoru turns bright red. “I didn’t mean to be! I swear I wasn’t thinking anything— well I was thinking but not like— well yes like that but I didn’t expect you to—”

“I’m wet.”

That shuts him up.

He blinks. “Wha— You, wait really?”

You nod furiously. “Soaked. I thought I was dying. You’re, l-like— you’re so hot and tall and your hands are big and I thought—”

He sways toward you like he’s being pulled by gravity.

“You think I’m hot?” he breathes, shocked.

Your voice is barely a whisper. “You’re like—the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“…But I’m a virgin.”

You blink. “You’re a virgin?”

He freezes. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. “You’re too confident. And tall. And your voice, like— you talk like you’ve seen shit.”

“I haven’t! I’ve literally never seen anything. I still sleep with a body pillow.”

“Oh my god.”

You both start laughing, but it’s too breathy, too nervous. You’re looking at his lips again.

“I thought you weren’t a virgin,” he admits, voice low now, almost in awe. “You look like— like—”

He waves helplessly at your body. “You’re so pretty. So hot. You look like you’d ruin me.”

“I’ve never even kissed anyone,” you whisper.

“Me either,” he says.

There’s a beat of silent realization.

Then— tentatively— his hands touch your waist. He’s shaking.

“Can I…”

You nod. “Yeah. Please.”

The kiss is terrible. Teeth clashing, noses bumping, your mouths slipping messily before you both pull away with startled laughter. But his face is flushed, and his eyes are glassy, and your thighs are pressed tight together because the way he’s looking at you is not innocent anymore.

“We’re so bad at this,” you whisper.

“I’m gonna die,” he mumbles, forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m so wet I think my panties are ruined,” you say, like a confession.

He groans. “That’s so hot, please don’t say things like that unless you want me to cum in my pants.”

You both snort, but neither of you moves away.

“Can I… touch you?” he whispers, barely audible.

Your eyes widen, breath catching.

“…Yes. But I don’t— I don’t really know how.”

“Me either,” he whispers. “Let’s be awkward together.”

You reach for his belt, and he lifts your hoodie just enough to see the swell of your tits in your bra. And then you both freeze, panting, staring— because holy fuck this is actually happening.

Two very horny, very confused virgins. In a bathroom. At the movies.

Grinding desperately like you’re learning each other’s bodies in braille.

His hands find your hips, pulling you closer. Your fingers tremble at his zipper. And you swear— you swear— when your pussy brushes against his bulge through your panties and tights, he nearly whimpers.

You're both gonna combust.

You’re still half-laughing, half-gasping into his neck, your panties damp and sticking to you like sin, and Satoru’s hard dick is pressed against your inner thigh through his jeans like it hurts. He keeps doing these little shaky inhales, fingers digging into your hoodie at the waist like he needs something to hold onto or he’ll float off the planet.

His glasses are fogged. His cheeks are pink. And when you drag your nose along his jaw just to feel him shiver, he makes the softest noise you’ve ever heard. A tiny, broken sigh— like the kind of sound you might make when someone pets your hair just right.

You feel like you’re on fire.

“You’re really… hard,” you whisper, a little dreamy, dragging your hand down the front of his jeans like you’re curious more than anything else. Because you are. You can feel the length of him, thick and hot under the denim, twitching at just the barest touch of your fingers. “Like… all the way.”

“I know,” he whines, quietly. “It’s been like that since the popcorn scene.”

You giggle. “We didn’t have a popcorn scene.”

“You were licking butter off your fingers.”

“…Oh. Yeah okay, fair.”

You’re still staring at the bulge in his jeans. It’s insane. It’s… kind of intimidating, honestly. But you’re so curious, and he looks like he might actually die from the idea of you wanting to see him like this.

“Can I see it?” you whisper.

His breath catches. His whole body freezes.

“You— my… dick?”

You nod shyly, face burning. “Just once. I just— I wanna know what it looks like.”

He stares at you like you’re a mythical creature. “You really want to see it?”

“…Yeah.”

His fingers are shaking as he fumbles with his zipper.

You don’t look away— not even when he shoves his boxers down and his cock bounces free, flushed and heavy and dripping. You make a noise, something halfway between shock and awe, because holy shit he’s big. Not just big— long, curved a little toward his stomach, thick enough that your mouth goes dry. The tip is glossy and wet, a pretty pink color— a clear bead clinging to the slit like he’s leaking from just grinding on you.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, stunned.

Satoru makes a noise that’s not human. “D-don’t look at it like that.”

“I can’t help it,” you breathe. “It’s pretty.”

His brain shuts down.

“Pretty?” he croaks.

You nod dumbly, staring. “It’s like… glossy. And pink. And it’s twitching.”

He groans. “Don’t say twitching—”

“But it is! It’s like it’s waving at me or something. It looks so needy.”

He grabs the wall behind your head like he might collapse.

“You’re so cute,” you whisper. “You’re really hard just from kissing me.”

“You’re soaking,” he counters, voice hoarse. “You’ve been wet for an hour.”

You whimper a little. “I didn’t even know I could get this wet.”

Satoru groans again and cups himself like it’ll stop him from cumming just from talking to you.

You reach out— slowly— and wrap your fingers around the base.

He jolts, hips stuttering forward into your hand like it’s instinct. His eyes flutter shut and his whole body shudders, like he’s never felt anything like this.

“…You’re so warm,” you whisper. “And thick.”

“I’m gonna cum,” he blurts.

You pause. “Wait, already?”

“I told you,” he gasps, pressing his face into your neck. “It’s your voice— fuck, the way you’re touching me—”

You slide your hand up and watch his cock twitch, leaking over your fingers.

He sobs a little. “Angel, please—”

That makes you freeze.

“…Angel?”

He peeks up at you, embarrassed. “It slipped out.”

You bite your lip, then smile, stroking him again. “I like it.”

“You’re so soft,” he moans. “And your hand’s so small, it doesn’t even fit—”

You squeeze a little tighter. He gasps.

“Tell me when,” you whisper, eyes wide. “I don’t wanna waste it. You’ve been hard for so long.”

“‘When’?” he pants.

“Yeah,” you say, breath catching. “I want to see what your cum looks like too.”

He shatters.

Just like that— hot, thick ropes spill out across your fingers, your hoodie, his shirt. You watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his whole body curls toward yours, hips stuttering, voice cracked and pleading into your shoulder. His cock throbs in your hand like it’s losing its mind. He sounds so helpless, so high and soft when he whimpers your name.

You stare at the mess.

“…Whoa.”

He’s panting against your cheek, totally limp. “That was so embarrassing.”

“It was awesome,” you breathe. “I made you cum.”

“I exploded in ten seconds.”

You stroke his hair. “I think you’re perfect.”

He melts a little into your chest.

“…You wanna see me next?” you whisper.

His head jerks up like a prairie dog.

Satoru’s still shaking.

You can feel it— his breath hot and unsteady on your neck, his heartbeat punching against your ribs where your bodies press together. Satoru Gojo just came all over your hand like some desperate teenager, having a wet dream, and you’re still standing in a movie theater bathroom, soaked to the skin and so turned on it’s getting hard to breathe.

His cum is sticky on your fingers. Warm, it smells faintly like salt and sugar, and he’s still leaning against you like he’s not sure how to stand on his own.

And then—

Your voice, soft and daring, nearly a whisper:

“…You wanna see me next?”

Satoru blinks. Eyes blown wide. Mouth parted, in disbelief.

“…Are you serious?”

You nod.

He looks stunned. “Like… your pussy?”

Your whole face burns.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, suddenly nervous. “If you want. I mean— I know it’s— kind of a lot, and maybe messy, but I just… I’ve never… shown anyone." You're looking down at the floor before you finish the rest of that sentence... then your eyes are darting back up to his face, blue eyes stargazed in disbelief. “And I want you to see.”

He’s speechless, Satoru is utterly speechless.

You fidget, heart thudding, tugging your hoodie down like it can hide the way your thighs are trembling, how wet you still are under your panties.

“I just thought… since I saw yours…”

His hand flies up, quick. Cupping your face, both of you look into each other's eyes.

“I want to,” he blurts. “I want to so bad I think I’m gonna die.”

You smile, shy and giddy. “Okay. Then… can you take my panties off?”

He gasps.

Like, actually gasps. Clutches his chest. Staggers backward like you hit him with a spell.

“Say that again,” he whispers.

You reach under your hoodie, slowly rolling your leggings down to your thighs, revealing just a sliver of your pale pink cotton panties, soaked straight through. There’s a wet patch over your pussy— obvious, shiny, and dark.

“Take them off,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Please?”

He looks like he might cry.

“Oh my god,” he chokes. “You’re so wet you soaked through. That’s from me? From just— grinding on me?”

You nod, cheeks flushed. “You made me so wet I couldn’t focus on the movie.”

His hands are on your thighs now, huge and hot, trembling a little as he sinks to his knees in front of you like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. His glasses slide down his nose. He pushes them up, eyes fixed on your panties like they’re the most sacred thing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers, “but I wanna learn so bad.”

You’re breathing so fast your legs are shaking.

His fingers slide under the sides of your panties. He hesitates.

“Ready?” he asks, voice so soft.

You nod, in eager anticipation, like when you know you're about to rip a band-aid off. But... in this case, it's your soaked sticky ruined panties.

And he pulls them down.

Slow, slow, slow

The cotton clings to your cunt, like they're almost glued to you, but he gets them off with a firmer tug.

Your cunt glosses in the light.

Dripping. Swollen. Slick as fuck and twitching under his gaze. You clench a little just from the air, the tension, the way he’s looking at you like he just saw an angel squirt holy water.

He moans. Moans.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes. “Holy shit, you’re soaked. I didn’t know it could do that.”

You giggle nervously. “It doesn’t usually. I think it’s a you thing.”

He gulps, audibly.

His eyes don’t leave your pussy, even as he leans forward, nose almost brushing your thigh.

“Can I… touch you?”

You feel your knees threaten to buckle.

“Yes.” You say with too much enthusiasm than you meant.

His fingers twitch. “I don’t know how.”

You grab his wrist and guide it...

His middle finger barely grazes your folds and you gasp, clenching, hips jumping forward.

“Oh fuck,” he moans. “That was barely anything. You’re shaking.”

“You touched my clit,” you pant. “It’s sensitive.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Oh my god. I love that you know what it’s called.”

You’re breathless, laughing a little. “I’ve read fanfiction. Have you not?”

“I have, but in those they just say ‘your little pearl’ and shit.”

You groan. “That’s not even close.”

He’s looking again, hand hovering like he’s terrified to mess it up.

“Okay, so… this is your clit,” he murmurs, grazing it again, watching how your whole body twitches. “It’s so tiny. But you sound like I electrocuted you when I touched it.”

You whimper, cause he's teasing... He's curious as well and doesn't fucking know how much him petting your clit actually affects you.

“You like that?” he whispers, a bit entranced. Crystalline blue eyes focusing on the sticky strands of your slick connected to his fingertips as they stretch when he rubs and pulls them off your glued pussylips.

“Y-yeah.”

He touches again, a little firmer... slower, really working your clit, the soft squelches audible, he really wants to taste it, the creamy thing webbing his fingers, the thought pounding in his head.. Would you be grossed out if he just shoved his fingers in his mouth right now and got a taste of that sappy cream?

You whimper louder, snapping his attention back from his lewd thoughts.

His voice is shaking. “Can you c-cum like this? Just from me touching you?”

You nod furiously. “If you keep going, Fuck. Please keep going.”

His thumb brushes you now, a bit more confidently.

“You’re dripping,” he mumbles. “It’s getting on my wrist, angel”

Your thighs snap shut, embarrassed.

But you’re so close and he’s still rubbing in slow, shaky circles and whispering your name and watching you like he’s studying for a test he’s gonna fail with honors. Your clit feels like it’s throbbing. You can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop whining.

And then—

“Cum for me,” he whispers, awed. “Please, please pretty girl, I wanna see.”

That makes your cunt clench, his voice the thing that makes you break instantly.

You clam up around nothing, crying out as your pussy gushes over his hand, wet and twitchy, making a fucking mess on his hoodie sleeve. Your knees give out. He catches you instantly, still on his knees, arms full of shaking, panting girl.

You’re sobbing in relief, thighs sticky, pussy still fluttering, and his hands are holding you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“You’re so amazing,” he breathes. “I can’t believe I made you cum.”

You whimper. “You’re so good. I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

He kisses your thigh.

Then your stomach, and makes his way up and then your lips, just to feel you.

Soft and careful, with utmost devotion and care.

And you melt against him, fucked out and flushed, pressed to his chest.

“…We should do this again,” he mumbles.

“Next time,” you pant, smiling, “I wanna see if you can make me squirt.”

He chokes, on what little air he's breathing.

But you’re still trembling.

Your panties are hanging off one ankle, his cum is drying on your sleeve, and your pussy is throbbing— still fluttering every now and then like your body can’t believe you actually came. You’re slumped against Satoru’s chest, half-limp, while he rubs soft little circles on your lower back like he’s trying to soothe an overstimulated kitten.

Time is passing and neither of you has said anything in the last full minute.

Except him whispering “holy fuck” under his breath every ten seconds like a mantra.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he finally says, voice all hushed reverence. “You came.”

You nod, agreeing lazily. Dazed, and still reeling in the high. “Like… a lot.”

“You squirted.”

“I did not.”

“There was liquid. Splash zone level.”

You slap his chest, giggling, but your thighs twitch. You’re so sensitive you could cry, your clit aches in that perfect, pulsing way that means it wants no more and yet… you’re still soaking wet.

And you feel it. That ache deeper inside you now. Heavy and throbbing. Unused.

Unsatisfied.

You shift against him, face buried in the soft cotton of his shirt, and whisper:

“…Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to put your fingers in me.”

You feel him freeze. Every muscle goes stiff. His hands still on your back. You feel his dick— hard again— press against your thigh like it heard you first.

“Wha— what.”

You look up at him, breath shaky. “You made me cum from the outside. But I’ve never been touched inside.”

His ears go red.

“I— I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“You won’t.” You take his wrist, place his hand gently against your mound. “I trust you.”

He swallows hard. You begin to guide his fingers between your thighs again, letting him feel how wet you still are. You gasp a little just from the contact— still sensitive, still twitchy.

His voice comes out hoarse. “You’re soaked.”

“Just go slow,” you whisper. “I wanna know what it feels like.”

He moves down again and actually takes his jacket off and spreads it over the tiles beneath you. He's kneeling like it’s instinct now, reverent and worshipful. Like he belongs on the floor for you. He kisses your inner thigh once, sweet and shaky, then stares between your legs like he’s seeing magic.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says.

You nod, open for him by parting your thighs, trembling ever so slightly.

His fingers sliding along your sappy folds, middle finger inching closer to your hole's opening, more slick gathers and pools at it tries to worm its way in.

You gasp at the feeling.. a bit in fear and uncertainty, but he's so gentle, holding you tighter against him.

His finger begins to push in, your tiny hole fighting him, the intrusion. It's nothing like you've ever felt.

Satoru’s breathing stops entirely.

“You’re tight,” he whispers, stunned. “You’re— fuck, you’re so warm, I can feel your pulse.”

You whimper. “Go slow. Just the tip.”

He pushes a little, and you clench involuntarily, sucking him in just a bit.

He moans. Actually moans. Like you’re the one touching him.

“Angel, you’re gripping me.”

You bury your face in your sleeve, whining. “It’s not fair. Your fingers are big.”

He curls his finger just slightly— experimenting— and your entire body jolts.

“Oh— oh fuck!” you cry out.

His eyes go wide. “Was that— was that good?”

“D-do it again,” you pant.

He does. Gentler, carefully pressing just right, and your walls flutter around him so tightly it’s like your body doesn’t know how to handle it.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles. “You’re sucking me in.”

You grab his wrist. “Try two.”

He stares. “Are you sure?”

“Please, Satoru.”

You’re breathless, begging.

He shivers like it physically affects him.

He slides another finger in— and your pussy stretches around him, tighter than he expected. Your mouth drops open. Your thighs twitch.

“Oh my god,” you gasp.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me— I can’t move,” he moans.

You rock your hips, helping him, whining through your teeth.

It’s deep. It’s thick. He curls again— and you sob, eyes fluttering back.

“There— oh my god there, right there—”

His fingers are hooked now, rubbing that spongey spot deep inside that makes your eyes cross. His thumb finds your clit on instinct, and suddenly you’re wailing, your whole body shaking, your pussy clenching so hard around his fingers he can barely move.

You cum again, messier and needy. Your velvet walls constricting his fingers in waves.

And he watches, awed, wrecked. His other hand supporting you as your thighs tremble uncontrollably.

He doesn’t even pull out.

He just whispers, “You’re so beautiful when you cum.”

And you start crying.

Happy tears. Dumb overwhelmed tears. Because no one’s ever touched you like this, seen you like this, loved your body with nothing but his hands and awe.

He kisses your forehead.

You sniffle. “I want you inside me someday.”

He nods. “Me too.”

“…But I might have to train for it.”

He laughs, breathless. “Me too. My heart can’t take this.”

You null away on his chest for a minute. Exhausted by everything your body's endured tonight, your panties still on the floor, his arms still secured tight around you and he press soft kisses to to top of your head.

Eventually when he slowly eases his fingers out of you, you're relaxed, no longer holding them hostage, it slides out with a flurry of slick gushing out, all what's been welling up and stuffed inside your cunt for the entire time.

He rubs it up and down your pussylips then into your clit one last time before he's bringing his fingers to his lips, and moaning as your flavour hits his tongue. Finally, getting a taste of you and he couldn't be more pleased at the tangy-sweetness of it.

Satoru licks his fingers clean, savouring it and after he's the one reaching for your panties, tugging them back up along with your leggings as he tells you softly to, "Raise your hips for me please, angel. Good girl, just like that." You do, and he secures them back in place, cunt still pulsing. Fresh slick soaking your panties again.

Satoru stands first, all long limbs and easy grace and he reaches down for you next. His hands are warm as he pulls you up from the bathroom floor. His jacket lies there still, a dark wet patch blooming where your cunt had soaked through.

Heat floods your cheeks, you're quick to mumble an apology, eyes glassy with leftover pleasure and sudden shyness.

He just chuckles softly. Bends to snatch the jacket up like it’s nothing. He balls it in one hand and tucks it under his arm.

“Shh, angel. It’s fine.”

He cups your face, thumbs brushing your flushed skin. Then he kisses you slow and deep, tasting like sin and sweetness. “One wash and it’ll be brand new. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t tell you he plans to keep it exactly like this. A filthy little souvenir, from tonight.

His fingers lace with yours as he leads you out of the stall. The movie is long forgotten. He keeps you tucked close against his side the whole way through the emptying theater. The night air hits cool when you step outside.

In the car he drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. Possessive and gentle.

Later that night you lie in bed, sheets tangled around your legs. Your phone glows in the dark. Heart hammering, you type the silly questions anyway.

you 🩷 so… are we... dating? omg omg am i your girlfriend now?!

His reply comes instantly.

toru 🩵 i knew we were soulmates when you asked to see my dick aaaand called it "pretty" ilysm angel omg

You giggle into your pillow, face burning. Your chest feels too full. Tonight was crazy. Wild and messy and perfect.

But now one, no two orgasms later and Satoru Gojo is yours. Officially. The nerd from the Doraemon expo.

You fall asleep smiling stupidly into your pillow, already wondering when you’ll feel his hands on you again.