꒰ in which sugar!reader tries ‘no nut nov.’ ꒱
⤷ contains :: teasing , edging .
you sit cross-legged on the worn couch in your shared off-campus apartment , scrolling through your phone with that wide-eyed enthusiasm that always makes itachi’s lips twitch in amusement .
college life buzzes around you—lectures , group chats , the endless cycle of caffeine and cramming—but right now , your focus is on this viral challenge you’ve stumbled upon .
“no nut november , “ you declare brightly , tilting your head like it’s the most brilliant idea ever .
you’re sweet as sugar , a little ditzy , oblivious to the fact that it’s mostly a guy’s thing , a test of masculine restraint . but you ? you see it as a fun game , a way to “build discipline” or whatever the influencers are peddling .
“we should do it together , ‘tachi ! it’ll be cute , like a couple’s challenge . “
itachi lounges across from you , his dark eyes gleaming with that sharp , calculating edge .
he thinks it’s absurd , of course—pointless self-denial in a world already full of frustrations . but your naivety ? it’s too tempting to pass up .
he leans forward , a smirk playing on his lips as he agrees without hesitation . “fine , “ he says , voice low and smooth , laced with mischief you don’t quite catch . “but remember the rules : no ‘nutting . ’ everything else is fair game . “
you nod eagerly , beaming , completely missing the predatory glint in his gaze . he knows you’ll crack first ; he’s counting on it .
the first week crawls by in a haze of building tension . itachi doesn’t change a thing about his routine—he touches you casually , almost innocently at first . a hand on your thigh during movie night , fingers tracing lazy circles that inch higher until you’re squirming , heat pooling between your legs .
“it’s okay , “ he murmurs against your ear , breath hot and teasing . “as long as you don’t finish . “
you bite your lip , that signature pout forming , sweet and unwitting , but the ache starts to build , a frustrating throb that makes your thoughts fuzzy .
by the second week , he’s bolder , taking full advantage of your oblivious trust . you’re studying at the kitchen table , rambling ditzily about some campus gossip , when he slides up behind you , hands slipping under your oversized sweater .
his fingers dance along your ribs , then dip lower , brushing the edge of your panties . “tell me more , “ he commands softly , voice like velvet as he presses a kiss to your neck , nipping just enough to make you gasp .
you try to focus , words tumbling out in a breathless rush—“and then she said . . . oh , ‘tachi . . . “—but his touch turns mischievous , slipping beneath the fabric to stroke your folds , slow and deliberate .
you’re soaked already , the tension coiling tight in your core , every glide of his fingers sending sparks up your spine .
he circles your clit with infuriating precision , building you up without mercy , whispering , “hold it in , sugar . you can do that for me , right ? “
your pout deepens , body trembling as you grip the table edge , ditzy mind spinning .
it’s not fair—he’s so composed , so mean in his control , while you’re unraveling thread by thread . the air thickens with unspoken need , your whimpers filling the room as he adds a finger , curling it inside you , thrusting shallowly .
“see ? this doesn’t count , “ he taunts , free hand tilting your chin to capture your lips in a bruising kiss , swallowing your moans .
the friction is exquisite torture , pushing you to the brink , but he pulls back just as your hips buck , leaving you panting , frustrated tears pricking your eyes .
that night , the dam breaks . you’re in bed , trying to ignore the insistent pulse between your thighs , when itachi rolls over you , pinning you with his weight .
“poor thing , “ he coos , mean edge sharpening as he grinds his hardness against you , the barrier of clothes doing nothing to dull the heat . “ you really thought you could last ? “
he yanks your shorts down , exposing you , and without warning , buries his face between your legs , tongue lapping at your slick entrance with ruthless hunger .
you arch , crying out , fingers tangling in his hair as he sucks your clit , fingers plunging deep to hit that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids .
tension shatters into ecstasy—you come hard , shuddering beneath him , your sweet voice breaking into sobs of relief .
itachi doesn’t stop , flipping you onto your stomach and sliding into you from behind in one smooth thrust , filling you completely .
“ that’s it , “ he pants , pace relentless , each snap of his hips punishing and possessive . “let go for me . “
you do , again and again , until he’s spilling inside you with a low groan , the challenge forgotten in the haze of satisfaction .
he pulls you close after , pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead .
“no more silly games , “ he murmurs , and you nod , all sugar-sweet and sated , already forgetting how he’d played you from the start .
