:)

Ruined After Midnight — late at night, he’s relentless, licking you until you’re crying from overstimulation (toji x fem!reader)

It’s late. Past midnight. The only light in the room is the streetlamp glow through half-closed blinds, casting bars of pale gold across tangled sheets.

You’re already exhausted. Toji knows it too.

He’s the reason you’re exhausted.

Your body’s trembling, flushed and raw, thighs quivering from where he has them spread wide. He’s settled between them like he owns the space, like he owns you.

And he does.

“Toji,” you whimper, voice cracking. “I can’t. Please.”

He doesn’t even look up. Just gives a low hum, vibrating against your swollen, soaked cunt. The sound punches another ragged sob out of you.

“‘Can’t’?” he rumbles, voice rumbling dark against your skin. His tongue licks a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit. “Didn’t sound like ‘can’t’ when you were moaning for my tongue five minutes ago.”

You let out a choked cry when he seals his mouth over your clit, sucking hard, tongue flicking mercilessly. Your fingers twist in his dark hair, trying to shove him away.

He growls. Bites. Just enough to make you yelp.

“Keep your hands off,” he snaps. He grabs your wrists in one big hand and pins them to your stomach. His other arm hooks under your thigh, forcing you wide open with no escape.

“Toji—please—”

Your eyes blur with tears when he dives back in, relentless. He eats you like a man starved. Like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

And there isn’t.

He groans at your taste, rutting slightly into the mattress as he devours you. His tongue fucks into you, messy and wet, before dragging back to your clit, flattening and circling it until you’re gasping, babbling nonsense.

“Toji—fuck—oh God—”

“Cum,” he orders, voice muffled but firm.

You break.

Your thighs clamp around his head, body convulsing as you cum hard, soaking his mouth and chin.

But he doesn’t stop.

You try to pull away, sobbing. “Stop, please, it’s too much—”

He just tightens his grip.

“Shut up,” he growls. His tongue is unrelenting, circling your overstimulated clit in slick, brutal strokes.

You’re crying now, voice wrecked. He leans back just long enough to sneer at your ruined face.

“Look at you. Crying while I eat this pussy.”

He dives back in. You’re already a mess, slick, swollen, dripping, and he devours every drop.

Your body jerks with another orgasm, this one forced out of you, your sobs turning raw.

Only then does he finally pull back. His face is wet, eyes dark and feral.

He wipes his mouth lazily.

But he’s not done.

He crawls up over you, looming, crowding you in. He drags his fingers through your slick folds, now dripping from your cum and his spit. The wet sound is filthy in the quiet room.

“Fucking look at you,” he rasps. “All messy for me. Can’t even stop squirting when my tongue’s on you.”

He slaps your pussy lightly. It splatters wetly.

You yelp. He does it again, harder.

“Listen to that,” he taunts, voice low and cruel.

You’re shaking. Whimpering. He lines up his cock, thick and leaking pre-cum, smearing it through your soaked folds.

You feel the obscene squelch as he presses in.

It’s easy. You’re so wet from cumming so many times that he slides in to the hilt with one rough thrust. The sound is nasty, loud and sloppy.

Your scream is hoarse.

“That’s it,” he snarls, grabbing your hips tight enough to bruise. “Take it. Take all this fucking cock.”

He starts to move. Deep, hard strokes that make the whole bed shake. Each thrust lands with a slick slap, your messy cunt sucking him in.

You can hear it. Loud. Shameful. Wet.

“Toji—it’s so loud—”

He laughs, cruel and breathless. “Good. Let it echo. Let the whole fucking building know who’s fucking you this way.”

You’re babbling now. Begging. Crying.

“Please—please slow down—”

He doesn’t. He grabs your throat, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy.

“Shut up and take it,” he growls. “You feel that? That’s our cum. I’m gonna fuck it back into you until you can’t hold any more.”

Your walls tighten. You’re so close again.

“Gonna cum for me again?” he mocks. “Such a greedy little wife. Can’t get enough of this cock splitting you open.”

Your orgasm hits with a sob, cunt squeezing him so hard he groans. He doesn’t stop, keeps thrusting hard, slick and messy.

He leans in, teeth at your ear.

Fucked Into Obedience — toji man handling his younger gf

(toji x fem!reader)

You knew you fucked up the second you got in the car.

Toji didn’t say a word when you slid into the passenger seat, your skirt just a little too high, lip gloss smudged from laughing with your classmates. He’d seen it all—your giggles, the way one of them tried to touch your arm, the way you let him.

He didn’t speak on the drive home. Jaw tight, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on your thigh like a threat.

Now you’re in his room. The door slams behind you so hard you jump.

“Toji—”

“Shut up.” His voice is low, dangerous. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t need to.

You swallow hard, thighs pressing together.

He yanks you forward by the wrist, pulling you until your chest bumps his. He’s so much bigger, heat radiating off him. His dark eyes rake over you, lingering on the short skirt.

“Liked being a tease today?” he murmurs, voice dark silk.

Your breath hitches. “It was nothing—”

His fingers wrap around your chin, forcing your gaze up. “Nothing? You let that boy touch you.”

You squirm, heart pounding. “He’s just a classmate.”

Toji’s thumb presses your lips apart. “Then you won’t mind showing me who you really belong to.”

Your stomach flips. He pushes you back onto the bed so fast you barely catch your breath. The mattress dips under his weight as he crawls over you, eyes predatory.

He grips your jaw again, thumb smearing your lip gloss. “You want to act like a brat? I’ll fuck you like one.”

Your hips buck instinctively. He notices. He always does.

He yanks your skirt up, tears your panties down your thighs. The cold air makes you shiver.

“You’re already wet,” he growls. “Little slut.”

You whimper, but the sound turns to a gasp when his fingers plunge into you, rough and deep. He fucks you with them mercilessly, watching you writhe.

“Don’t look away,” he orders. You force your eyes to meet his, embarrassment burning.

Your pussy clenches around his fingers.

“Of course you like this. You love when I put you in your place.”

You can’t deny it. Your hips rock into his hand, desperate for more.

“Say it.”

“I—I love it,” you gasp.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, deliberately watching you twitch. He wipes them on your thigh before undoing his belt. The sound alone has your cunt pulsing.

He lines himself up, thick cock pressing at your entrance. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood.

He doesn’t ease in. He drives in deep with one hard thrust, making you scream.

“Quiet,” he warns. His big hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your cries as he starts to fuck you hard.

Your eyes roll back. He’s brutal, hips slamming into yours, balls slapping your ass. He pulls your leg over his shoulder to go deeper, hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

“You don’t get to flirt with anyone,” he grits out. “This pussy’s mine.”

You’re crying under his palm now, moaning around his hand. He moves it just enough for you to whimper his name.

“Toji—please—”

“Please what?” He’s relentless, thrusts punishing.

“Please, cum, please—”

He smirks, sweat dripping from his temple. “Good girl. Cum on my cock.”

You shatter, body convulsing around him. He fucks you through it, low groans leaving his chest as he spills inside you, cock twitching.

He stays buried deep, breathing heavy. His thumb wipes your tears.

“Learned your lesson?” he asks, voice softer now but no less commanding.

You nod weakly.

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your damp cheek. “Because you’re not leaving this bed tonight.”

He stays inside you, thick cock still pulsing, fingers gripping your thigh so tight it’ll bruise. Your body is limp under him, walls still fluttering from your orgasm.

But he’s not pulling out.

Instead, he gives one slow, grinding thrust that makes you whimper.

“Toji… please,” you breathe, voice cracking.

He leans in close, breath hot against your ear. “Not done. Don’t think you’re getting off that easy.”

Your eyes flutter, tears brimming. He just smirks. His hand slides up your throat, thumb pressing lightly at your pulse point.

“You want to act like a fucking tease? I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”

He starts to move again. Hard. Unforgiving. The bed frame slams against the wall with every vicious thrust. Your overstimulated pussy clenches so tight around him that he groans, eyes dark, jaw tight.

You sob, the sound raw. “Too much—Toji—it’s too much—”

He huffs a cruel laugh, free hand cupping your cheek mockingly. “That’s cute. Like you think begging’s gonna help you.”

He yanks your leg higher over his shoulder, angle brutal. His cock punches so deep you scream, nails digging into the sheets.

“Yeah, scream for me,” he growls. “Let the whole fucking neighborhood know who’s ruining you.”

Your vision goes blurry. His hand finds your clit again, rubbing it in tight, punishing circles that make your back arch off the bed.

“Fuck—stop—I can’t—”

“You will.” His voice is deadly calm, low and rough. He slams into you harder, his balls slapping wetly against you. “You’ll take every fucking drop I give you.”

You come again without warning, body seizing. He doesn’t slow down, fucking you right through it. You’re sobbing now, babbling his name over and over like a prayer.

“Look at you,” he taunts. “Such a good little wife. Crying for my cock.”

Your walls convulse again. His rhythm falters. He curses low, head dropping to your shoulder.

“Gonna cum again,” he warns, voice ragged. “Gonna fill this pussy until you’re leaking all over my bed.”

You moan brokenly, fingers scrabbling at his back. “Please—inside. Want it.”

That’s all it takes. He slams deep one last time, cock jerking, hot cum flooding you so much you can feel it dripping out even with him still buried.

But he doesn’t stop.

He keeps fucking it into you, watching the mess spill from your ruined cunt.

“Not enough,” he mutters. “Not nearly enough. I want it dripping down your thighs all day tomorrow.”

Your head lolls back, mind blank with overstimulation. He grabs your hips, pulling you back onto him over and over.

“You think you’re done?” he growls in your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you until you’re too sore to even think about flirting with anyone else.”

Your moans are wrecked, pleading but useless. Toji just chuckles, lips brushing your temple.

“Good girl,” he murmurs darkly. “Now take it. All of it.”

(satoru x fem!reader)

You barely have time to lock the door behind you before Satoru’s on you, his big hands grabbing your ass through your work skirt, pulling you flush against him.

“Miss me?” he asks, breath hot on your neck, nipping your jaw with a grin.

Your laugh hitches when his hips grind yours. “You’re so needy. Been a week, Satoru.”

He groans, like the word week is torture. “Too fucking long. I was jerking off thinking about you during lecture.”

You swat his arm, but your thighs clench. He smirks because he sees it.

“Dirty older girlfriend,” he teases. “Letting me get hard in class over you.”

You don’t get a chance to retort because he spins you, pressing you into the door. He hikes your skirt up over your hips, palm splayed across your lower back.

“Stay just like this,” he breathes.

You hear his zipper, the obscene sound of spit in his palm. Then the blunt head of his cock pressing at your entrance. He shudders.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me,” he moans, pushing in slow.

Your fingers claw the door. He’s thick, and you feel every inch as he sinks in.

“God, Satoru.”

“That’s it. Say my name.”

He sets a brutal pace immediately, hips slamming yours, the wet slap filling the entryway. He reaches around, fingers finding your clit and rubbing quick circles that make your knees buckle.

“Don’t you dare fall,” he growls in your ear, other hand fisting your hair to keep you upright. “I’m not done.”

Your moans turn shameless. “F-fuck! You’re so deep.”

“Yeah? You like how your younger boyfriend fucks you? Huh?” He punctuates it with a harsh thrust that has you crying out.

“Missed this pussy so bad. Missed feeling you squeeze me like this,” he pants, leaning over you, breath ragged.

He pulls out just to flip you around. Your back hits the door and he lifts one leg over his hip, lining up and slamming back in so deep you see stars.

You choke on a scream.

“Look at me,” he orders, voice low. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum for me.”

He pounds you mercilessly, fingers bruising your thigh, mouth finding yours in a messy, desperate kiss.

When you cum, your walls flutter and squeeze around him so tight he swears violently.

“Shit, fuck, gonna cum. Where?”

“Inside,” you gasp. “Do it. Fill me.”

His eyes go feral. With a strangled groan, he buries himself deep, cock pulsing, warm cum flooding you.

He stays there, panting against your lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers, kissing you softer now. “I love you so much. Let me do it again.”

You can’t even speak. But you nod. And he’s already pulling you toward the couch with a wicked grin.

He’s sprawled on the couch, TV blasting some dumb comedy, but he’s not laughing. He’s pouting. Like an overgrown kid who didn’t get his candy.

You shift on your knees in front of him, fingers tugging his shirt. “Satoru, I said I’m sorry...”

He smirks, eyes glittering. “Sorry? Hmmm. Doesn’t sound convincing.”

You huff, pressing your palms to his thighs. “Then tell me how to convince you.”

His grin widens. He flicks the TV volume up for effect before looking down at you. “You’re smart, baby. Figure it out.”

Rolling your eyes, you undo his fly. He makes an exaggerated gasp. “Oh? That’s your grand apology?”

You glare, but your mouth finds him anyway, hot and wet, making his breath catch despite his teasing. He tangles his fingers in your hair, guiding you gently. “Slower. No rushing. I’ve been patient for weeks, remember?”

You moan around him, cheeks flushing. He groans at the vibration, hips jerking a little.

“Fuck, you’re cute when you’re sorry,” he says, breathless but laughing. “Maybe I’ll forgive you if you don’t stop.”

You’re supposed to be studying. Notes spread across his bed, pen in your hand shaking because Satoru won’t stop. He’s behind you, long legs caging you in, warm breath ghosting over your ear before his tongue drags wetly along the shell.

“Focus, baby,” he teases, voice low, smug. You gasp when his teeth nip you. His hand slides under your shirt, squeezing your breast roughly, thumb flicking your hardening nipple.

“Satoru—”

“Shh.” His other hand is between your thighs now, parting them easily. You’re already so wet for him it’s embarrassing. His fingers press your clit, circling it with slow, firm intent that makes your eyes roll back.

Your pen drops. He laughs against your ear, tongue swirling, licking, sucking the sensitive skin as you squirm. He pinches your nipple at the same time he rubs your clit faster.

“Gonna cum just from this? While you’re supposed to be working?” he mocks, voice rough.

You can’t answer, breath hitching on a sob as your hips jerk against his fingers.

three weeks of satoru’s mouth on you. his fingers inside you. his voice in your ear whispering filth while holding back the one thing you’ve been dying for. he edges you until you’re crying, writhing, begging. and then he stops. every single time.

you don’t know if he’s torturing you for fun or trying to prove a point, but either way, your body is hot with frustration. your thighs clench when you’re alone. your fingers aren’t enough anymore. your whole body aches for him.

today, you’re in his room again. it’s quiet. no one’s home. your phone is off. his bed is messy, the blinds are shut, and satoru’s got that look in his eyes like he’s already undressing you with his mind.

you’re on your back, legs spread, skirt hiked up to your waist. no panties. he’s kneeling between your thighs, fully clothed, just watching your pussy twitch while you squirm.

“look at you,” he murmurs. “wet already.”

“satoru, please,” you whine. “don’t tease me today. just fuck me.”

he raises a brow, licking his lips slowly. “you want me to fuck you?”

you nod, desperate. “yes. please.”

he leans in, presses his face between your legs, and licks a long, slow stripe from your dripping hole to your clit. your whole body jolts.

“too bad,” he says, voice low. “you taste too good.”

his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking hard, tongue flicking mercilessly while two fingers slide into you. he’s not slow this time. he pumps them fast, curling just right, hitting that spot that makes your back arch. your moans are high and broken.

you’re close already. too close.

and then he stops.

you let out a sob of frustration, trying to close your legs, but he holds you open, spreading you wider with both hands.

“you don’t get to come until i say so.”

you want to curse him. cry. scream. instead, you reach for his belt.

he grabs your wrist. “who told you to touch?”

“you’re so fucking mean,” you hiss.

he chuckles. “and you love it.”

you do. you hate how much you do.

but this time, something changes in his eyes. the cocky smirk fades. his pupils blow wide with lust.

“turn over,” he says.

you obey immediately, flipping onto your stomach, ass raised. you hear the clink of his belt, the drag of his zipper. your heart pounds in your throat.

he grips your hips and lines up behind you, pressing the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

“you want it?” his voice is ragged now, breath hot against your back.

“yes,” you breathe. “please. fuck me.”

he slams into you with one deep thrust.

your mouth opens in a silent scream. he’s thick, stretching you open, so deep you feel it in your gut. your pussy clenches tight around him, already fluttering from how edged you’ve been for days.

“fuck,” he groans, grabbing your ass with both hands. “you’re so fucking tight.”

he doesn’t give you time to adjust. he pulls back and slams into you again, hard. then again. and again. the sound of skin slapping fills the room. the bed creaks. your moans turn into sobs.

“this what you wanted?” he growls, pounding into you like he’s trying to break you. “you’ve been teasing me, making those little noises, walking around with no panties. now take it.”

his hand slides into your hair, yanks your head back so he can hear every moan.

“you hear how wet you are?” he grits. “you hear how loud your pussy is for me?”

you do. it’s obscene, the wet, filthy sound of him driving into you over and over. you’re drooling into his pillow, face flushed, cunt clenching uncontrollably around his cock.

he reaches around and rubs your clit in tight circles, fast and rough.

“come,” he says. “fucking come.”

your orgasm hits you like a truck. you shake, scream, legs trembling as you gush around his cock. your walls spasm and squeeze him so tight it knocks a groan out of his throat.

he doesn’t stop. his thrusts get messier, deeper, more desperate. he slams into you one last time and groans your name as he spills inside, hot and thick, filling you up until it leaks out around his cock.

you collapse face-first into the bed, legs useless. he falls over you, breathing hard, still buried inside.

you don’t say anything. neither does he. just the sound of your combined breath, bodies sweaty and tangled.

after a while, he kisses your spine and murmurs, voice hoarse—

“next time, you’re riding me until i come in your mouth.”

you smile into the pillow, completely wrecked.

“deal.”

not because he’s weak. god, no. he’s terrifying in the way a force of nature is. people move around him like he’s made of glass and gunpowder, and yet… he’s alone. always has been.

back in grade school, satoru used to smile more. that was before geto left. before geto called the world disgusting and walked out, leaving only silence in his place. you don’t know all the details, just whispers. cursed spirits. ideology. betrayal. whatever happened, it left satoru gutted. even if he pretended it didn’t.

you’ve caught his gaze more than once. those blue eyes, brighter than any sky you’ve seen, always staring past people. like he sees everything, and yet nothing. they look so empty sometimes.

you’ve always wanted to be his friend.

so when your lit teacher pairs you with him for a last-minute senior assignment, something about dissecting metaphors in tragic love stories, you try to hide your surprise. everyone else looks relieved they weren’t picked. you’re the only one who doesn’t flinch when his name is read with yours.

and now, here he is, sprawled across your bed like he owns it.

“wow,” he says, inspecting your annotated copy of wuthering heights. “you’re the type who actually reads the stuff.”

you snatch it back. “and you’re the type who skims and fakes deep analysis, huh?”

his lips twitch. “guilty.”

you sit at your desk chair, crossing your legs. his eyes flick down, just for a second. you catch it. he doesn’t apologize.

“you always this bossy?” he asks, voice lazy but edged with something else.

“only when i need to babysit.”

he grins. “kinky.”

your cheeks warm, but you roll your eyes. “we’re supposed to pick one scene from the book and connect it to a modern relationship. write a short paper and present. i figured the whole ‘heathcliff and catherine can’t be together because of society’ angle might be fitting.”

he hums, shifting to lie on his side, head propped on one hand. “you think society keeps people apart?”

“you tell me,” you say quietly.

that silences him. for a moment, the usual arrogance slips. you see that flicker again. loneliness, sharp and hidden beneath a smirk.

“i used to have someone,” he says, voice lower. “but he left. said people weren’t worth saving.”

you lean forward. “and what do you think?”

he doesn’t answer. his gaze drops to your mouth. you suck in a breath, instinctive, and he notices.

“you always this nervous around friends?” he asks, voice dipped in velvet.

you bite your lip. his eyes darken. he sits up, slow and close. one hand lands on your thigh. his fingers drum lazily.

you can feel the heat blooming low in your belly.

“i don’t think we’re acting very professional,” you murmur.

“we’re acting,” he echoes, leaning in so close his breath brushes your jaw. “sure.”

his fingers brush your skin, slow and curious, as if he’s memorizing the way you react. they slide beneath the edge of your shorts, then your underwear, and when he finds you wet, his breath catches just slightly. you feel it against your cheek.

you close your eyes, thighs twitching as he lazily circles your clit with the pad of his finger. not too fast. not enough. just enough to make you ache.

“shit,” he murmurs, like he didn’t expect you to be this soft. this responsive.

you bite your bottom lip hard, trying not to whimper when he taps it again, featherlight.

“you’re already dripping,” he says, voice a little hoarse now, close to your ear. “you’ve been wanting this?”

you don’t answer. you can’t. your hips are moving slightly without you meaning to, trying to chase the friction, but he pulls back every time you get close.

“you’re greedy,” he says, smiling against your temple. “that’s hot.”

he shifts behind you, his chest pressed to your back now, warm and steady. one arm wraps around your waist to keep you close while the other continues its maddening pace between your legs. his fingers toy with you, teasing your clit with circles and light flicks, sometimes brushing past it and dipping just enough to feel how soaked you’ve become before retreating again.

you let out a frustrated gasp, and he chuckles low in his throat.

“you want more?”

you nod quickly.

“use your words,” he says, pressing a kiss just below your ear.

“i want your fingers,” you breathe. “please.”

“see?” he murmurs. “you do sound pretty when you beg.”

he finally gives you what you need. his fingers slide lower and sink into you with ease. one at first, then two, filling you slow and deep. your whole body tenses, thighs clenching around his hand. he groans softly at how tight you are, his fingers curling just right as he begins to move them in and out.

he finds your sweet spot fast, like he’s been searching for it all night. each thrust has a rhythm to it, building pressure inside you until you’re panting, clutching his wrist with one hand and the sheets with the other.

“satoru—” you gasp.

“say it again.”

“satoru,” you moan, body trembling.

“that’s it,” he whispers, pumping his fingers deeper, thumb rubbing firm circles against your clit now. “come for me.”

you do. you break around his hand with a cry, hips jerking, thighs shaking. your walls flutter and tighten, soaking his fingers while your head falls back against his shoulder.

he keeps moving through it, gentler now, guiding you through every wave.

you’re still catching your breath when he pulls his hand away, slowly. you feel the wet slide of his fingers leave you, and then he brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a low sound of satisfaction.

you turn your head to look at him, dazed.

his smile is soft this time.

“…can i accompany you at school?” you ask, voice breathless.

his eyes linger on yours, searching. then he nods, brushing your hair back.

The house feels quiet without your brother. He’s stuck at his girlfriend’s place. Your parents are off somewhere in Europe, pretending to relax.

And then there’s Gojo. Still here. Still stretched out on the couch with that lazy smirk, like he owns the room.

“I should probably head out before the roads turn to soup,” he says, glancing at the downpour. But he doesn’t move.

You glance at him. “You’re not going anywhere in that.”

He raises an eyebrow, turning to face you fully. “What, worried about me?”

You snort. “No. Just don’t want you crashing and blaming me.”

That grin pulls at his lips. The one that makes your stomach do something stupid. “So protective.”

He’s sitting too close now. His knee bumps yours. You don’t move away. Maybe you even lean a little closer. Just a little.

His eyes flick down to your bare legs, then back up to your face. It’s not subtle. He’s not even trying to be.

“Your brother would kill me,” he says, voice low.

“Then don’t tell him,” you say.

He laughs under his breath, and it’s got this rough edge to it. “You’re real bold today.”

You shrug like your heart isn’t pounding. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

His hand rests on your knee. Light, careful. When you don’t stop him, he lets his fingers drift higher.

Somehow, you end up in his lap. Not entirely sure how it happened. Your knees are on either side of him, hands gripping his shirt like that’s the only thing keeping you steady.

He kisses you like he’s starving. Like this is something he’s been thinking about way too long. His mouth is warm, a little messy, a little desperate. You can feel him smile against your lips when you kiss him back just as hard.

He pulls away just enough to speak. “Still want me to leave?”

You shake your head, lips barely an inch from his. “Not even a little.”

His hands slide down your back, then settle on your hips. He looks up at you like he’s memorizing every inch.

“Good,” he says, grinning. “I was never planning to.”

The room feels hotter than it should. His lips find your neck. Your body leans into his like it’s second nature. You stop thinking about your brother, about rules, about what happens after.

Right now, it’s just you and Gojo.

And he’s not holding back.

His grip on your thighs tightens, and your breath hitches. The tension in the room is heavy, thick enough to drown in. He’s looking at you like he’s already undressed you a hundred times in his head, and now he’s finally getting to touch.

“You sure?” he asks, voice low, lips brushing against your jaw. “Because if we do this, I’m not gonna be able to pretend I don’t want you every time I see you again.”

Your answer is a kiss, deep and hungry, and it’s all he needs.

Clothes come off fast, frantic, like you’re both done waiting. Your shirt hits the floor. His fingers trace your skin like he’s starved for it. His mouth follows, warm and wet, kissing down your neck, your collarbone, lower.

You tug his shirt up and off, fingers skimming over firm muscle, and he groans when you drag your nails lightly down his chest.

“You’re a tease,” he breathes, pressing you back into the cushions.

“You like it,” you whisper.

His laugh is quiet, almost dark. “Too much.”

His body covers yours, skin to skin now, heat radiating between you. Every touch feels electric, every movement sparks something deeper. His hands explore, slow at first, then more demanding, like he can’t get enough. He kisses you with open hunger, lips hot, tongue deep, hands roaming like he wants to memorize every inch of you.

You arch into him, gasping when his hips roll into yours, when the friction sends a jolt through your whole body. He curses softly against your mouth.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he says, voice rough and tight.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. “Then show me.”

He does.

It’s desperate and slow, all at once. The couch creaks beneath you as your bodies move together, legs tangled, breath stolen in pieces. He groans your name, low and wrecked, like he can barely hold himself together. You feel everything, his weight, his heat, the way his mouth never strays far from your skin.

You cling to him, your own moans slipping out between kisses. It’s dizzying, the way he moves, the way he holds you like he’s afraid to let go.

When it finally crashes over both of you, it’s messy and hot and completely consuming. You’re shaking, gasping, holding onto him like you’ll fall apart without him.

He doesn’t pull away. He stays, pressed against you, breathing hard, his hand tangled in your hair, the other tracing lazy circles on your hip.

The room is quiet except for the rain and the soft sound of your heart still racing.

“Still think this was a bad idea?” he murmurs against your neck.

You smile, still catching your breath. “Only if you’re done.”