Gojo Satoru didn’t believe in just one round during your birthday, no, he was a firm believer of making you have orgasms all day, sometimes not in the most appropriate places.
The day starts with his head in between your thighs, morning sun filtering through the curtains and casting a yellow glow over your boyfriend’s white hair. His long, slender fingers grip the skin of your thighs roughly as he dives into your sweet pussy, head rolling back as you moan and whimper above him.
The second time, it’s in the backseat of his car. You want to visit a garden centre on your birthday? Sure, as long as he can bounce you on his cock in a quiet area of the car park afterwards. You’re far too cock drunk to notice or even care if the car is rocking violently each time he slams you down onto his deliciously thick length.
The third time, two of his fingers are splitting you open in your friend’s bathroom. You should’ve known that Gojo would try this when you said your friends had invited you round for the afternoon with an open invitation for your boyfriend too.
“Satoru,” you begin breathlessly, legs involuntarily spreading wider. “Someone could hear.”
He presses open mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin playfully. “Then let them. Let them see how well you’re being treated on your special day.”
You can’t contain your moan as his fingers plunge deeper, reaching that sweet spot that made your legs shake. “You’ve already-mm-treated me twice.”
“Not enough for me, baby. I won’t let you sleep until I’ve given you at least six orgasms today.”
You barely register his words as your eyes roll back, familiar feeling building in your lower stomach as you thrust helplessly against his palm.
The fourth time happens on the couch, right after getting home and unable to even get a word out before Gojo is pushing you down, fingers already straying to your underwear. Somehow, you end up face down ass up, drooling over one of your favourite cushions as Satoru pounds into you again and again, causing the nastiest of moans to spill from your mouth.
The fifth and sixth orgasm happens during the same event, in a fancy restaurant. Apparently, Gojo had no awareness of his surroundings even in one of the most prestigious places possible. He apparently also thinks it’s funny to rub the sole of his shoe over your clothed pussy during dinner until you finish, hands gripping your cutlery in a desperate attempt to look composed. And then to top it all off, he fucks you again in his car, the passenger seat now, one hand firmly wrapped around your neck so you don’t accidentally turn your head and notice how everyone can see the two of you this time.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
ryomen sukuna asks sweet reader he is smitten with on a date
ryomen sukuna was a lot of things. he was broody, he was stoic and harsh and absolutely detested the saying "think before you speak".
but what he wasn't was a bumbling idiot. (?)
"the uh coffee...at that place...is um—" sukuna's gaze trailed from your wide doe eyed stare to the slight quirk of your pretty pink lips.
his brain short circuited, "...cute" he finished.
you had to fight yourself to not giggle at the tall handsome, slightly scowling man before you as he said the word 'cute'.
"oh? whats the name ? i would like some cute coffee!" you asked innocently.
meanwhile sukuna—whose brain had absolutely gone to the gutters imagining the taste of those pretty pink lips— had to mentally slap himself out of his reverie.
his brain went on an overdrive trying to remember the name of the coffee shop. but the problem was he was more of a protein shake and solely depended on the coffee maker in his dorms for his black black coffee without any sugar or milk.
suffice to say he was very lost.
"ijishi ?" it sounded more like a question.
this time you did giggle. ijishi was a steak house. clearly not in the business of selling cute coffees.
sukuna wasn't sure why it was funny to you, but he counted it as a win because it made you happy.
you cleared your throat, "i was actually craving some steak! i heard ijishi also happens to have some great steak."
your fingers moved to interwine with his , as you stepped closer to him. you tilted your face upwards , smiling at him "...maybe we can have some?"
sukuna was not easily flustered. his feathers certainly weren't easily ruffled. and he definitely didn't blush.
"...ofcourse" was all he could manage.
his brain was currently occupied with taking notes of the finer details—like how your fingers aligned absolutely perfectly with his, and your palm was so soft in his hand. and your eyes. damn they were sparkling in the sunlight.
some of your friends called out your name, reminding you that class was starting in ten minutes.
you went on your tip toes , placing a quick peck on his cheek, leaving a light lipstick stained kiss.
"great! I'm off to class now, pick me up then!" you said happily as you turned to leave.
sukuna willed his heart rate to slow down as he watched your pretty floral dress slowly disappear in the crowd of the students.
date secured.
see? he wasn't bad at this at all like his teammates claimed.
Dad!Satoru shows snow to his son for the first time.
── .✦ You three as a family were in the living room watching a cozy movie on a cold night.
You were resting your head on your husband's shoulder, he was resting his head on your head. And there was a little one resting between you two.
It was a perfect night to you. Hot chocolate, the two loves of your life right with you watching a movie and relexing. It couldn't get better.
Well, Satoru, your husband, disagreed. He saw something that caught his attention.
Snow.
"Sweetheart! It's snowing!" Satoru pointed to the snowy landscape. He was like a kid in Christmas.
You turn your head to see it too, and a smile opens on your face. You loved snow.
"It's finally snowing." You make a soft but excited statement. You've been waiting for this moment for months. To finally show to your baby for the first time.
"Let's get outside!" Satoru skipped over to get the winter coats and scarves for the three of them, and you dressed in a hurry, not wanting to waist time, and you dressed Haru as well.
"Come, sweetheart! Haru has to see." Satoru was already on the backdoor that goes directly to the garden you have, and from the door you could see a imensive Sakura tree.
Satoru bought the house just for that Sakura. He wanted to give it to you as a gift, because you loved sakuras.
( If you don't, pretend you do for once.)🌸
You arrive at the garden which was already covered in white. It's was magical. It always was, but it was even more with Haru there for the first time.
Satoru scooped Haru from your arms and goes to the middle of the garden.
Haru was in awe. He was watching the sky seeing the tiny flakes coming down from it. He let out a small breath making it appear due to the cold.
Then a tiny snowflake gently came down to Haru's nose.
He watched it caming down in awe, with his mouth slightly open and crosses his eyes trying to see it in his nose. He reached his hand to take the snowflake but because of his hand heat it melted before he could see it.
The only thing you could do was record this moment to be forever and beam with his cuteness.
"See, baby bear?" Satoru reached his palm up to catch a snowflake and presented to Haru.
Haru copied his dad, by stretching out his small hand, trying to catch a snowflake himself.
He successfully succeeded, proud of himself, he beams and let out a coo.
"aah." His voice makes you chuckle, you call them two to look at the camera, and they both turn their heads to you at the same time.
It could get better.
And It definitely got.
Note⋆˚꩜｡ ﾟ.+:｡∩(・ω・)∩ﾟ.+:｡ Tadaah. It's winter in my country, so why not?
⋆˚✿˖° I love these aesthetic pics, it's pretty and soft.
♡₊˚ 🍫 Please do not copy, repost, or translate this work.
MDNI/18+ only, fingering, implied cunnilingus, handjob
Fratjo x fem!reader
Fratjo might be the most obnoxious person in the room, flashing a cocky grin toward the group of girls who are squealing every time he throws one of the pingpong balls into the cup of his opponent, only for him to have his tongue down one of those girls’ throats not even a mere ten minutes later.
Unfortunately, that cocky confidence stays even in the bedroom, having his pretty whites on display for you when his head is between your legs. His white bangs falling across his forehead as he cockily tells you he will have you cumming in no time.
And while you rolled your eyes at him, heart fluttering wildly in your chest as you looked at him, you did believe him wholeheartedly.
Who wouldn’t, really? Having the most sought-after guy on campus between your legs, pressing sloppy kisses onto your inner thighs as he throws you a wink when he notices you looking at him.
Yeah, anyone would believe it, really.
Seems like you might’ve needed to doubt him a little bit, though. Because not even five minutes later, after his tongue lapped everywhere but your clit, his fingers are feverently rubbing your left labia.
The thing is, he doesn’t even realise it. He’s still grinning up at you, that same cocky smirk dancing on his face as he asks you if you’ve finished yet—as if he’s doing something phenomenal to your pussy, instead of giving you friction burn.
So you awkwardly blink at him, not a single noise of pleasure falling from your lips. You’re contemplating on telling him he’s doing good, throwing in a few fake moans, shaking your thighs a little as you arch your back to really sell that you’ve just came, just to have this be over with. Or, tell him the truth—that he’s not doing anything.
Your brain decides to go with the latter. “Not really,” you bluntly say, the tone making you almost wince.
It’s then that he finally stops his little ministration, fingers stilling on the outside of your pussy as it’s his turn to blink up at you. Those baby blues that are always half-lidded now wide. Cocky grin gone from his face, lips parting in disbelief instead. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah, you’re not really doing anything my dude.” You cringe as the word ‘dude’ leaves your mouth, but at least you’re telling him the truth. “It’s like a virgin who’s seeing a pussy for the first time tries to locate the clit.”
He’s silent at that, fingers retreating until they’re lying limp on his lap. There’s a small blush covering his cheeks as he looks down, almost in a bashful manner.
You’ve never seen Gojo, the guy who loudly declared his victories, lets girls take shots from his abs, shows off any chance he gets, look so small.
The cogs in your head turn, a small furrow in your brow as you look him over. And then it finally clicks for you. “You’re a virgin.”
It comes out more disbelieving than you’d meant for it to be. But come on, who can blame you? This is the Gojo Satoru we’re talking about. Always seen with pretty girls clinging to his arms at parties, obscenely making out in corners of the rooms.
There’s a small nod of his head, as he finally retreats fully; he gently pushes your legs off his shoulders, fingers ghosting over your skin for a second longer before he sits back. The strain against his boxers glaringly apparent in this moment.
“I, uhh— I should probably go.” He jabs his thumb toward the door as he awkwardly shuffles off the bed, head already searching for his clothes that lay abandoned on the floor when your hand snatches his wrist. “No!”
His head snaps back towards you, eyes wide. You wince at how harsh it sounded, releasing his wrist immediately. “I mean… you don’t have to. We can still make this work.”
Because damn him if he dragged you all the way up here only for him to leave you high and dry—mostly that last part. No, you’re mot about to let him walk away just because he’s insecure or whatever about being a virgin.
“But I wasn’t even making you feel good,” he almost whines, and it makes your pussy throb. Fuck, does he also whine when you suck him off, tongue tracing his frenulum as your hand jerked the rest of him off? Well, that’s something for later. Right now you just want him to stay, even if it isn’t the quick fuck you were hoping to get.
“Do you want to learn how to?” You bite your lip as you bat your lashes up at him, trying to get him to take the bait. And you almost grin when he bites the inside of his cheek before nodding his head so fast, you’re almost certain something must’ve popped. Patting the space in front of you, you invite him back onto the bed. “Well, come sit so I can show you.”
If there’s anything else you didn’t expect from Gojo, it would be how fast he sits down in front of you, eyes looking expectantly at you as you smile at him.
Leaning back onto your forearms, you spread your legs, exposing your core to him once more. There’s a slight glint to it now, wetness dribbling out of you as he’s no longer rubbing your skin dry and instead is waiting for you to teach him how to please you.
Spreading your labia with your pointy and ring finger, you tap your clit with your middle finger. There’s a small twitch in your legs as you finally get some pleasure for the first time in the twenty minutes the two of you’ve been up here. “This right here is what you were trying to find earlier.”
Gojo leans forward, teeth sunk into his plush bottom lip as he watches intently how you lightly circle your clit with your own finger. His are twitching beside him, wanting, waiting for you to give him permission to touch you. Which you give him. “Go on, you can try.”
He surges forward, thumb immediately finding your clit, pressing just a little too hard on the first second, only to soften the pressure the next. A moan rips itself from your throat as your legs twitch again, and there is a small victorious smile on his lips as he realises he’s finally pulling those pretty moans from your throat he’s been dying to hear all night.
“Good, just like that. You can also play around with speed and pressure. Not every woman likes the same thing,” you gently coax him to try out different things with you.
And you’re surprised to see him intently watching your reactions whenever he tries something new, trying to gauge what you do and don’t like. Quickly getting a better hang of it.
More wetness coaxes your lips and thighs as he continues rubbing your clit. Noting the way he eyes it, you breathlessly chuckle at him. “Go on, you don’t have to keep rubbing my clit y’know.”
With that, he finally lets his fingers drift closer to your core, until they’re circling your hole slightly. At the wet feeling, he taps you lightly, watching the way a small string appears between the pads of his fingers and your cunt. It snaps the next second as he pulls them away further, and before you know it he has his lips wrapped around those same two digits. Sucking off your taste with a groan.
“Oh fuck,” you whisper as you feel yourself clench around nothing. The image is nothing but debauchery, watching the way he laps up every drop of you until he pulls his fingers from his mouth with a pop.
His fingers find your core again, lightly dipping one of his fingers inside to the first knuckle. Cerulean orbs find yours, trying to see if you’re still doing okay. When you nod, he inches his finger further in, before it’s snug inside your warm, wet walls.
“Shit,” he hisses as he experimentally pulls his finger out only to push it back in again. A small moan falls from your lips, and he does it again and again and again, until you finally tell him to add another finger.
He keeps doing the same thing, fingers plunging inside your cunt over and over again, just with two instead of one this time. His palm sometimes grazes your clit, and after a particular grind of it, he gets the memo to keep your little bundle of nerves stimulated while he scissors you open.
At the same time you lean up, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re doing so good.”
The smile he sends your way is quite cute. Something so not like the moment the two of you are in right now, that you can’t help but feel a different kind of sensation in your stomach—one that has nothing to do with the way his fingers are stretching you open, and everything with the boy in front of you.
Fuck. No, this was supposed to be a quick fuck (turned teaching moment), not you trying to catch feelings for the bastard.
So you do the only logical thing you can think of right now. Wrapping your own hand around his cock, you begin to jerk him off—using his own pre as lube to let your hand glide over his girth.
“O-oh, fuck,” he whines. Well, at least your question as to whether he’s a whiner or not has been answered.
You move your hand in tandem with his, sometimes thumbing his slit before continuing to jerk him off. “You close? Because I’m close.”
“Yeah, just keep doing what you’re doing right now,” you moan, throwing your head back as his fingers graze over a particular spot inside of you. Of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired guy, immediately crooking his fingers to find the spot again.
You shatter with a moan not soon after, while he coats your fingers white when he feels your walls contract around him.
Breathing heavy, the two of you finally let go of each other. Both hands sticky with cum. Blue eyes find you again, before he pops his fingers into his mouth, cock throbbing the moment he tastes you again. Raising a brow you lift your own hand to your mouth, licking up his cum.
When you finally pull your hand away from your mouth, you notice that he’s already hard again. Following your gaze, he chuckles. “So maybe you can teach me how to properly eat you out next?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
18+ slight angst. meet footballer!gojo & his cheerleader fwb !
1. CHEERLEADERS ARE FOR CHEERING—NOT FONDLING!
“girl… isn’t that your man?”
your first mistake is letting your eyes follow shoko’s gaze to the bleachers. your second mistake is making eye contact with golden boy gojo satoru, still in his jersey & ‘hiding’ behind a skinny pole with a very annoyed geto suguru by his side.
you don’t bother correcting shoko. instead you ignore the grin satoru flashes you, taking out the water bottle between your lips with a pop! “is he supposed to be hiding?”
shoko shrugs, turns on her heel. “dunno, ask him. he’s clearly waiting.”
you roll your eyes with a sigh, but you’re already moving.
shoes clicking against the wood gym floor, skirt swishing between your thighs. gojo satoru has long come out of his hiding spot. he’s slumped against the pole now; hands in his pockets, grin lazy, blue eyes glimmering in the orange sun. beside him geto suguru is there, jaw tight in an expression that says he’d rather be anywhere but here.
you still have your bottle in hand when gojo reaches for your hips. “hi, baby…”
you barely murmur back a hi before he’s tugging you in by your skirt. his head dips to kiss your neck, then your cheek, then somewhere else your brain doesn’t register because his hands glide up to squeeze your ass cheeks underneath your skirt. a soft noise slips past your lips as he sucks on your neck.
“mm,” he murmurs, “missed you.”
geto clears his throat.
you let satoru do as he pleases, threading your hands through his hair as his hand dips between your inner thighs. he hums into your neck when you scratch his scalp. “suguru,” you breathe, “how’d you two even get here? coach toji’s gonna kill you guys.”
“kiss,” satoru interrupts. you tilt your head towards him, eyes still on suguru as gojo presses his lips to yours.
suguru’s face twists in disgust, but he doesn’t comment. “satoru bribed him. paid him a couple hundreds to see you for five minutes.”
“right—” your voice strains when gojo gropes your ass once again. “and you followed him because?”
geto is already looking away. “he bribed me too.”
you snort, but it turns into a shiver as satoru sucks on your earlobe. he hums, pleased, when your fingers tighten in his hair.
“mmh… got an away match,” he kisses your jaw. “wanted to see my girl first.”
you’re not his girl, you know you’ll never be, but you still laugh when he squeezes your waist & presses hurried kisses to your cheek. you shove him away & his grin is cocky.
“gonna score for you,” he tugs you back, dipping his head to your ear. “and then you’ll treat me, yeah?”
you hum when his arms snake around your hips once again.
“only if you score the winning goal.”
2. POST MATCH SEXCAPADES !
satoru comes back too late.
you’re not sure exactly why—maybe overtime, maybe the team stopped somewhere to celebrate their win—but you don’t let the thought plague you. you’re more concerned about the fact that it’s nearly evening & you can hear a ball kicking against the gym walls. you’re still in your cheer uniform, tiny skirt & sheer top, standing at the metal doors as you watch gojo dribble on his own.
he stops dribbling to catch his breath, wiping sweat off his chin. and then he’s off to sit at the bleachers, letting water slide down his neck as he chugs from a bottle.
you take it as your cue.
you have your hands behind your back, padding all slow, steps soft as you make your way to him. gojo keeps his bottle pressed to his lips but he sees it. how your skirt clings to your thighs. how your breasts ripple under the thin material. he lets out a low hum as you sit yourself on his lap.
you loop your hands around his neck. “hi.”
his lip tugs. “hi,”
he squeezes your waist as you press yourself into him. your tits smush against his chest, nipples hardening, and his fingers are already tracing the hem of your skirt & gliding up your thigh.
“how was the match?” you mumble.
“was good,” he mutters, but his thumb has already found your panties underneath your skirt. he rubs a slow circle over the bud. “you miss me?”
“no,” you sass, but he presses his thumb into your clit & your hips stutter. satoru laughs.
“i know what you like now,” he hums, left hand gliding up your side as the other rubs slow circles over your panties. “know it only takes a little.”
his thumb finds your nipple through your thin shirt. he rubs a circle over the pebbled peak, slow, but then he raises a brow. “no bra?”
you can’t respond. your breath hitches as your head falls into his shoulder.
“so cute,” he murmurs softly. he lets you press against him, leaving your panties to grope your heavy tits in his palm. he squeezes and fondles, pressing light kisses to your cheek as you make pretty noises in his ear. your hips buck into him.
“needy,” he scoffs, but his hands come up to guide your hips as you rut against him. he’s already hard and your panties are soaked thin and you let the material cling between your folds as your clit rubs against him. he flips up your skirt to find you drenched & slobbering. he bites his cheek.
“fuck, baby,” he rasps, sliding your panties over your aching cunt. you’re still humping him. “why’s your pussy so fucking wet?”
you only whimper as he presses his thumb to your sticky clit, rubbing hard circles over the bud. his other hand gropes your hip, guiding you faster over him. your breathing shudders as his thumb circles your clit faster and harder, until your hips are stuttering & he’s cupping your pussy so you cum in his palm.
you whimper, tears pricking at your lashes as you come down from your high. satoru kisses your cheek slow. “mmh, good job, baby.”
he’s still rubbing his palm over your pussy, massaging your warmth all slow & lazy. your eyes drop to his bulge, his cock practically twitching in his shorts. you reach a hand to glide over it, palming him so his hips twitch. he inhales sharply, “fuck—”
“not in my uniform,” he steals your hand, kissing your jaw. “gonna be a nightmare to clean.”
you glare at him through your lashes. “it’s already dirty, idiot.”
he laughs at your pretty face glaring up at him. your cheeks are still flushed, lashes wet, and your lips are in a frown but satoru swears you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. he folds his hand over yours and dips his head to kiss you warm & slow. you gasp as his tongue pushes in, a soft moan leaving your lips as his tongue grazes yours.
“another time,” he murmurs against your lips. “no pouting, yeah?”
you pout anyways, and satoru kisses it off.
3. NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND !
satoru is driving too fast.
his jaw is tight, knuckles white against the steering as you clutch your seatbelt beside him. your heart hammers against your ribs but the engine soon slows, his foot easing down on the breaks as the car comes to a stop at a traffic light.
today’s match went bad, really bad, so bad to the point that afterwards you’d tried to console him and he’d simply walked past. you try not to let it get to you. you know how men are when it comes to losing in sports.
but satoru’s breathing settles beside you, so you try once more.
“you played good today.”
silence.
"i know you're upset," you continue, voice soft. "but it's just one game, and you'll get them next time.”
silence again. his jaw only ticks, face illuminated by the traffic light’s red glow. the seconds seem to stretch into minutes, and you fumble with your skirt.
“you did your best,” you turn to him. “that’s all that matters—“
“can you stop?”
you freeze.
satoru doesn’t look at you. his fingers tap against the steering as he lowers his foot to the gas pedal. he’s not speeding anymore, but the silence stretches & you can feel a lump clawing at your throat.
you bite your lip. and satoru’s mad, yes, but he’s got no right to talk to you like that or take his anger out on you. so you suck in a breath, try to correct him. “i was only trying to help. you don’t have to take it out on me—“
“do you ever get tired of talking?”
“what?”
but satoru continues. “you always have something to say, don’t you? you’re not my fucking girlfriend. and i don’t need your fucking comfort.”
you blink. the words don’t register at first, but soon your throat is closing up, and you’re nodding obediently before you can think any better of it. your skirt bunches in your hands as you try to keep your breathing steady. god forbid you give him a reason to snap at you once again.
“you’re right,” you try for sass but it fails. “and i won’t act like it again.”
but satoru sees you through the rearview mirror. your eyes are on your lap, like you’re still trying to process what just happened, your thumbs fiddling with the hem of your skirt. satoru only swallows, glances away. if he ignores you long enough, you’ll be just fine, right?
your breath hitches beside him and he crumbles immediately.
he’s already pulling over, unbuckling his belt to reach over the console. “no baby, i’m sorry,” he pleads, and maybe he shouldn’t because it only makes tears fall from your eyes. “shh baby don’t cry, i’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry.”
he smushes your face into his chest, carding his fingers through your hair. you try to push him away but he takes your hand and presses it to his chest.
“didn’t mean to snap at you,” his breathing is ragged as he cups your face. “don’t cry baby, you know i hate it when you cry.”
you sniffle as he swipes a thumb over your wet lashes. “then what are we?”
satoru doesn’t answer. instead he presses his lips to yours, slow and warm, head tilting to deepen the kiss. “you’re my girl,” kiss. “my baby,” kiss. “my everything,” kiss.
he doesn’t say my girlfriend. but he doesn’t need to, right?
footballer!gojo doesn’t do relationships. and cheerleaders like you don’t make good girlfriends anyway. so you swallow the lump growing in your throat & let him part open your thighs.
maggots for brains | gojo satoru x you
✦ satoru takes care of drunk you
The city lights outside the car window were smearing into a blur of neon garbage. You tried to focus on a passing billboard, but closing one eye and then the other did absolutely nothing, they had probably agreed to stop working altogether about three vodka shots ago.
Getting out of the car and up to your apartment was nothing short of a humiliation ritual. There was something agonizing about being manhandled up three flights of stairs by someone who wasn’t even breathing heavily or breaking a sweat that made you want to swear off alcohol forever.
What doesn’t help the already intensifying flush on your cheeks is remembering how annoyingly diligent he was about his gym schedule. You could feel the solid mass of his bicep flexing effortlessly against your rib, which was only adding salt to the injury.
Though the warmth of his tailored suit jacket against your cheek and his arm slung securely around your waist was providing more comfort than any liquid blanket could. He was still wearing his office uniform, a reminder that he had driven straight from work just to pry you out of a questionably sticky booth at your friend’s birthday celebration at the local bar.
“I am entirely capable of walking,” you slur out to his collarbone.
“I know you are,” Satoru agrees mildly, still not letting you down. He pushes the front door open with his shoulder.
He guides you into the bathroom, holding you at the waist with a lack of effort that makes you hot, and carefully deposits you onto the edge of the counter.
The marble was freezing against your thighs, courtesy of the mini skirt you sported, sending a sluggish shiver up your spine. But before you could fully complain, Satoru steps between your knees, effectively caging you in his warmth.
“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he murmurs, catching you by the shoulders as you immediately try to slump forward to rest your forehead against his chest.
You hear the rustle of plastic from your skincare corner, shortly followed by the faint scent of your makeup remover. Satoru holds the cotton round soaked in the product before pressing it onto your face.
It was frustratingly soothing. His fingers sweep across your cheekbones and down the line of your jaw. When you pry your eyes open to sneak a glance at him, you follow his gaze that’s tracking your face with so much focus he probably doesn’t even realize the tiniest sliver of his tongue was out.
“Look up,” he whispers softly.
You obediently tip your head back, blinking against the harsh overhead lights as he wiped away the streaks of your mascara.
“You’re enjoying this,“ you accuse.
You feel his hand stop, tossing the soiled cotton round into the trash. He looks down at you, a fond expression coloring his face making your heart skip a beat.
“Maybe,” he sings, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone. He leans in, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. “There. All clean.”
And maybe you were secretly enjoying it too.
this was so self indulgent i’m not even sorry… also Hi i’m here i’m overworked and night shift sucks and i quit taking my SSRI meds cold turkey and think ill be ok but im not but olivia’s new album is amazing and her songs always makes me want to write satoru for some reason
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀kento is laying down in the bed of his dorm room, flicking through the pages of the new manga he'd picked up on the way, kimi ni todoke. he considered it an early birthday present for himself and he just couldn't wait to get back to read it! the only light in his room is coming from his bedside table, allowing him to read the pages of the manga with a soft little blush on his cheeks.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀as he's reading, there's a few knocks coming from his door. he quirks his brow in confusion, wondering who it could be at such a late hour. he reluctantly shuts his book and trudges to the door. he clicks it open, peeking his head through the little gap he's made, and that's where he sees you standing there with the biggest smile on your face, "hiya!"
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀he sighs softly, opening the door further and steps out his room. "what are you—" you barely let him finish before you're grabbing his arm and dragging him to god knows where. "hey! what's going on?" he asks frantically but you simply giggle, telling him you have a great surprise for him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you drag him all the way to your . . classroom? now he's really curious as to what you've got up your sleeves. he's both intrigued and worried about what could possibly have warranted you to bring him here without explaining a thing at midnight. though knowing you, he does feel himself relax at the thought that you'd never do anything untowardly（hopefully!）
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you giggle giddily as you bust the door open and confetti pops off and a cacophony of cheers echo through the halls, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY NANAMI KENTO!" all his friends — haibara, satoru, suguru, shoko, and utahime — are holding presents in their hands as they urge him to come inside and to blow out the candle on the cake you'd baked the night before.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀kento is honestly dumbfounded for a few seconds. he's just standing still in the middle of the doorframe like a deer in headlights, taking in the sight before him — a banner with the words 'happy birthday' scribbled on messily with some other sweet swords scrawled all over; the cute vanilla cake that satoru's holding up to his face a sweet little heart in the middle; the way everyone is shoving their gifts to him and telling him to open them now. he's feeling so overwhelmed but in the best way possible!
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you loop your arm around his as you squeal excitedly, "go on! cut your cake!" you gesture towards the table in the middle of the room where suguru had finally got satoru to place the cake down. surrounding the table is a plethora of fast food, drinks, and other little snacks. you're smiling up at him all giddy-like and sweet, pushing him towards the center.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"you planned all of this, didn't you?" he asks as haibara begins lighting the candles and shoko and utahime are preparing some plates for you all to use. you nod, squeezing his arm tightly and pouting about the fact that you wished you could have done more for him. he merely chuckles at that, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the top of your head, "you did enough. thank you so much."
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀as they all gather around him, singing（awfully） happy birthday and satoru snapping multiple photos and utahime taking a video of the whole thing, he feels his heart grow fuller and fuller. kento is so extremely grateful for each and every one of his friends in this very moment, wishing that this would last forever (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) !
❤︎ 𓈒 𓈒 happy birthday to my beautiful, kind, amazing, loving & darling of a man, nanami kento! i know i don't post him much but he is my favorite character ever. across any media or fandom, he is someone who speaks to me on levels i never knew was possible. i see so much of myself in him and there's nothing more in the world i wish other than just embracing him in the fattest hug ever, being safe in his arms and just sharing our lives under the stars. oh, how dear he is to me and how much i love him! happy birthday again nanami kento (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
in which you find out geto suguru's real job ⊹ fem reader ⋮ fluff + suggestive only at the end ＼ 1k words
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀satoru had been pestering you for weeks to go to this maid cafe that he'd found out about recently. he'd shown you the photos — pastel pink walls with cute little trinkets and anime merch plastered all over. he'd shown you their instagram reels, the staff wearing the quintessential maid costume accompanied with some cute accessories. you were not keen at all in going but . . you'd had the last straw when he'd threatened to expose your smut infested tumblr blog to your boyfriend, suguru.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀so now here you find yourself, waiting at the cafe's door to be let in, wearing a pretty pink dress adorned with a heart clip suguru bought you last week — the attire seemed fitting for this little outing. satoru is buzzing with excitement, practically giddy with joy as he keeps sneaking peeks into the cafe, wondering when you guys would be let in.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀and that's when the door swings open, a beautiful maid greeting you. but not just any beautiful maid. luscious dark hair cascading down his shoulders, a frilly headband tied on the top, pretty long lashes on his eyes . . it's your dear boyfriend greeting you with the brightest pink cheeks tinted on his face and eyes blown as wide as saucer plates.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"sugu!" satoru exclaims, pulling him into a tight hug. "surprise! thought i'd finally let your girl know what it is you actually do." he shoots suguru that cheeky smirk of his, wiggling his brows playfully as he drags you inside. you stare at suguru's super cute outfit, finding it so adorable how he's both embarrassed and furious at the whole ordeal.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀now it is all clicking to you — why he'd always been so secretive about his job, simply saying he worked at 'some dumb place downtown' but that he made good money so he never complained much about it. and you decided not to pry too much, just silently praying he wasn't doing anything illegal. safe to say, this was the last thing you were expecting but you'd be lying if you said you were not loving this！
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"welcome." suguru deadpans, flopping the menus on to your table. he's unable to look you in the eyes, twiddling his fingers nervously as he shoots satoru the deadliest glare you've ever seen. he talks about the menu in a monotone voice, clearly not amused that you're having to see him in this state. oh boy, if he only could tell how much you were enjoying all of this.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"two of your dreamy sky magic sodas!" satoru quips. suguru's glare only deepens, huffing annoyed as he clears the table and leaves for the kitchen. the man in front of you is snickering like a mad man, rubbing his hands together like a goofy dumb villain. you can't help yourself from giggling too, wondering what came with the magic sodas that made suguru pout the way he did.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"are you ready?" suguru stands in front of the both of you after serving your sparkly blue drinks with vanilla ice cream and a little cherry plopped on the top. satoru tells you to take out your phone and you do as he says, intrigued as to what was about to unfold — especially when you see the way suguru's face blooms a bright red.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"repeat after me to make your drink extra yummy & special!" his voice has gone all cute and high-pitched, the stupidest smile stretched across his face. you bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from laughing, doing your best to compose yourself so that you can follow after him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"twinkle-twinkle! fluff-fluff! yum-yum! turn your drink super sweet! the sweetest in the world! kyuuuu!" suguru sings whilst you copy him, even doing the cute gestures and actions like the heart poses and pretending to wave a wand around. and poor satoru is practically pissing himself from how hard he's laughing, clutching his stomach as he tries to catch his breath.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀suguru walks away in a huff, hiding his face behind the tray and scurrying to the back. you're still giggling uncontrollably as you try look for him, calling out his name. upon hearing your voice, he slowly steps out from his hiding spot（which was just behind the register）, head hanging low in shame.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"hi sugu." you trill, coming up to him to plant a quick peck to his lips. you can sense him relaxing a bit, though he's still got his eyes on the ground.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"i am gonna murder satoru." he mutters, digging his nails into the table top besides him, his knuckles nearly turning white. normally, he does look rather scary when he's mad but in that cute little dress of his, he looks incredibly adorable and stupid so you can't even take him seriously. "this is the fucking surprise he'd been ragging on about this whole damn week."
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you burst out in to laughter, pulling him to you by looping your finger around the band of the apron tied around his waist. he instinctively wraps his arms around your torso, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pouting, "i can't believe you had to see me like this . . "
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"no don't be." you coo, stroking his hair and planting tiny kisses across his face. ". . i kinda want you to wear this at home. y'know . . in the bedroom." you mutter the last part under your breath, so shy and so soft he almost misses it. but he doesn't — his ears perk up and he lifts his head up to see the shy expression on your face, your gaze flitting across the room and his smirk only grows wider at this newfound kink of yours.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"should i call you my pretty little master then, hm?" he teases. you smack him upside the head which only makes him chuckle. "hit me all you want. i know you're into it." you hate that he's right. and you hate that heat starts pooling down in your core at the thought of seeing him tied up in that costume and him just obediently listening to every one of your commands. damn suguru for being the prettiest man in the whole world (｀_´)ゞ！
𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 Gojo Satoru ゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ being touchy and super gentle during your pregnancy .✦ ݁˖
The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting long, golden slats of light across the bedroom floor. You were propped up against a mountain of pillows, trying to find a comfortable angle for your aching lower back, when the door clicked open.
Satoru slipped into the room, unusually quiet. The moment his blindfold was pulled down around his neck, his bright blue eyes locked onto you, softening instantly. He didn't say a word as he shed his black jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a chair, and crossed the room with his signature, lazy stride.
Before you could even greet him, the mattress dipped significantly. Satoru crawled up the bed, maneuvering his long limbs with an unexpected fluidity until he was practically draped over you. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, his white hair tickling your jaw.
“Welcome home, baby,” you murmured, running a hand through the soft strands of his hair. “Rough day?”
“Immensely,” he groaned, his voice muffled against your skin. “Everyone was loud. Everyone was annoying. And I wasn't here.”
He shifted, lifting his head to look down at you. Without his glasses or blindfold, his gaze was completely unguarded—full of a raw, heavy tenderness that still took your breath away. His large, calloused hand slid down your ribcage, moving with agonizing slowness until it rested flat against the prominent curve of your stomach.
The contrast was always striking. His hand was massive, easily covering a huge portion of your bump, yet the pressure he applied was lighter than a feather. For a man who could level cities with a flick of his fingers, he handled you as if you were made of spun glass.
“How’s my little bean doing today?” Satoru whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss right next to his thumb. Did they let Mom sleep?”
“A little,” you smiled, leaning back into the pillows as his thumb began tracing slow, rhythmic circles over your clothes. “They've been kicking quite a bit this afternoon, though.”
Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, a bright, boyish grin breaking across his face. He immediately shifted lower on the bed, sliding down until he was kneeling on the floor beside the mattress, bringing him eye-level with your stomach. He gathered the hem of your oversized shirt and gently lifted it, exposing the round warmth of your bare skin.
“Is that right?” he murmured, leaning in close.
He didn't hesitate.
He pressed his cheek directly against your bump, his long silver lashes brushing against your skin as he closed his eyes. He stayed perfectly still, holding his breath, just listening.
As if on cue, a sharp, sudden thump rippled against his cheek.
Satoru let out a soft, breathy laugh, his hand instantly cupping the side of your belly to anchor himself.
“Whoa. Yeah, that’s a strong one. It definitely takes after me.” He kissed the spot where the kick had landed, his lips warm and lingering. “Keep growing big and strong in there, okay? Daddy's waiting.”
He looked up at you, his eyes shimmering in the dimming light of the room.
There was a quiet, profound reverence in his expression that made your chest ache with warmth. He reached up, his long fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before his hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear you hadn't realized had fallen.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice incredibly soft, a stark contrast to the loud persona he wore outside these walls. “What's this for? Are you hurting anywhere?”
“No,” you whispered, placing your hand over his. “Just happy. You're going to be a wonderful father, Satoru.”
Satoru stared at you for a long moment, the corners of his mouth lifting into a gentle, genuine smile. He leaned up, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.
“Only because I have you to show me how,” he whispered against your mouth, before drawing you into a slow, deep, and impossibly tender kiss. For the rest of the evening, he didn't move from your side, his hands never leaving you, keeping you wrapped safely in his own quiet world.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
emo! choso loves using his tongue on you, mostly because of his piercing that leaves you shaking and wanting for more the second the cold metal meets your needy cunt.
emo! choso lets he’s you into the break room once his lunch break starts so he can have his way with you, pushing your tiny skirt up to your waist as he pounds into you at an angle that manages to hit your g-spot immediately.
emo! choso is protective over you, shooting boys a nasty glare if he even as much sees them looking at you in a hungry manner. and you eat it up every time because you love the way his large hands wrap around you in possession.
emo! choso lets you dye his hair once in a while, letting you experiment with different colored dye all while you cock-warm him, of course.
emo! choso has a piercing on his tip and you’re crazy about it. you love licking it when you give him head and he loves it as much as you do, throwing his head back in pleasure as he feels you gagging on him when you feel the cold ball hitting the back of your throat.
emo! choso puts on his favorite music as he thrusts into you at the beat of the song. at the end, he gets bored and begins pumping in and out of you as fast as he can.
emo! choso watches you gather your combined releases, placing them on his tattoos, almost as if you were coloring him in with your cum. he forces you to lick him up afterwards.
emo! choso loves sharing you with his coworker, suguru. the two dark hair colored boys using up your needy holes at the same time. suguru leaves for a bit, returning back to the store with a dildo.
“can’t let your pretty asshole empty, now can we?”
emo! choso loves using his tongue on you, mostly because of his piercing that leaves you shaking and wanting for more the second the cold metal meets your needy cunt.
emo! choso lets he’s you into the break room once his lunch break starts so he can have his way with you, pushing your tiny skirt up to your waist as he pounds into you at an angle that manages to hit your g-spot immediately.
emo! choso is protective over you, shooting boys a nasty glare if he even as much sees them looking at you in a hungry manner. and you eat it up every time because you love the way his large hands wrap around you in possession.
emo! choso lets you dye his hair once in a while, letting you experiment with different colored dye all while you cock-warm him, of course.
emo! choso has a piercing on his tip and you’re crazy about it. you love licking it when you give him head and he loves it as much as you do, throwing his head back in pleasure as he feels you gagging on him when you feel the cold ball hitting the back of your throat.
emo! choso puts on his favorite music as he thrusts into you at the beat of the song. at the end, he gets bored and begins pumping in and out of you as fast as he can.
emo! choso watches you gather your combined releases, placing them on his tattoos, almost as if you were coloring him in with your cum. he forces you to lick him up afterwards.
emo! choso loves sharing you with his coworker, suguru. the two dark hair colored boys using up your needy holes at the same time. suguru leaves for a bit, returning back to the store with a dildo.
“can’t let your pretty asshole empty, now can we?”
ᝰ.ᐟ studying anatomy is hard, but lucky you, your boyfriend satoru is jacked
the textbook was a weapon, and it was currently winning.
you stared blankly at a diagram of a human torso, the labels blurring into a dizzying soup of latin words. your upper body anatomy quiz was tomorrow morning, and true to form, you were cramming the night before. you hadn't even been at it for an hour, but your brain was already completely fried.
"okay, wait," you muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. "does the bicep sit higher than the tricep? or is the tricep on top? no that's… wait, where is the brachialis again?"
it was hopeless. you'd look at a muscle, repeat its name five times, look away, and immediately erase it from your memory. with a dramatic groan, you collapsed backward onto your bed, letting the heavy textbook rest precariously on your stomach. you were officially doomed.
the mattress dipped.
a flash of white hair entered your peripheral vision as satoru crawled onto the bed, shifting smoothly until he was hovering over you like a giant, ridiculously attractive cat.
"look at you, absolutely suffering," satoru teased, a sharp, playful grin tugging at his lips. "i can practically hear your brain short-circuiting from over here, babe."
you opened your eyes to glare at him, but the retort died in your throat. because, of course, satoru had decided to wear that shirt tonight. it was a long-sleeved, black compression top that clung to every single line of his frame, highlighting a ridiculously broad chest and sculpted shoulders.
he was just a criminally handsome guy who clearly spent way too much time at the gym. it was completely unfair how he could look that good just from lifting weights while you were drowning in textbooks.
"go away," you wheezed, weakly lifting a hand to push at his face. "you’re a distraction. a highly illegal distraction."
"me? a distraction?" satoru gasped in mock offense. he shifted his weight, dropping down to lie on his stomach next to you. he propped his chin up with his hands, a movement that caused the fabric of his shirt to tauten over the heavy definition of his upper back and shoulders.
your eyes tracked the movement. you blinked once. twice.
wait.
you looked from the textbook diagram of the deltoids and pectorals, then right back to satoru’s very real, very defined body. a sudden, brilliant spark of desperation ignited in your fried brain.
"toru," you said, your tone suddenly dead serious. "take your shirt off."
satoru froze, his smirk faltering into a look of genuine, rare bewilderment. his beautiful blue eyes blinked in confusion. "wh—now? i mean, i love the enthusiasm, babe, but i thought you were failing a class?"
"just do it. for science. for my gpa."
muttering something about how you were terrifying when stressed, satoru crossed his arms and pulled the compression shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. he sat cross-legged on the bed, presenting a perfect, shirtless canvas of lean muscle.
"alright, i'm naked—well, half-naked. what's the plan, professor?"
you didn’t answer. instead, you lunged off the bed, grabbed a neon green washable expo marker from your desk, and crawled back over to him with a manic look in your eye.
satoru eyed the marker warily. "uh, what is that for?"
"hold still," you commanded, uncapping the marker with your teeth.
you leaned in close, your left hand resting gently on his shoulder for balance while your right hand brought the marker to his skin. satoru tensed for a fraction of a second at the cool, damp touch of the felt tip, but quickly relaxed, watching you with an amused, fond expression as you began to draw.
"okay," you murmured, tracing a neat box right over his chest. "these are the pectoralis major. big chest muscles. easy." you wrote pec major in bold green letters right across his right pectoral.
"wow, using my body as a cheat sheet. i feel objectified. do it more," satoru chuckled, his chest vibrating under your hand.
"shh! i'm concentrating," you chided, moving your marker up to his shoulder. you traced the rounded muscle cap. "deltoid. anterior, lateral, posterior. it's like a shoulder pad." you carefully scribbled deltoid on his shoulder, giving it a little pat.
"and what about these?" satoru asked, flexing his arm slightly, a proud grin on his face.
you stared at his arm, the marker hovering. "ah! the age-old question. bicep is on the front, tricep is on the back. bicep pulls the arm in, tricep extends it." to cement it in your memory, you drew a giant arrow on his inner arm pointing up labeled bicep, and a matching one on the back labeled tricep.
for the next thirty minutes, satoru’s bedroom turned into a live-action, neon-green anatomy lab. you moved around him like a mad scientist, labeling his serratus anterior (the "rib muscles," as you initially called them), his trapezius, and even trying to map out his abs, though you kept getting distracted because his stomach kept twitching from being tickled by the marker.
"stop laughing, toru, i'm trying to find your external obliques!"
"i can't help it! your hands are cold and that marker is tickling the life out of me!" he gasped, squirming away from the green tip.
finally, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. satoru was covered from the waist up in bright green boxes, arrows, and messy anatomical terms. he looked absolutely ridiculous, completely contrasting his runway-model face.
satoru looked down at himself, then glanced in the vanity mirror across the room. he burst out laughing. "i look like a radioactive paint-by-numbers project."
"you look like an a-plus," you corrected proudly, capping the marker. "i actually remember them now. visual learning is a powerful tool."
satoru smiled, leaning forward and wrapping his green-labeled arms around your waist to pull you into his lap. "glad i could be of service to your education. but you know this stuff washes off, right? what are you going to do during the actual quiz tomorrow when you can't look at my chest?"
you hummed, resting your hands against his (now labeled) pectorals. "i'll just close my eyes and visualize my very hot, very heavily graffitied boyfriend."
"perfect," satoru beamed, kissing your forehead. "but if you get a hundred, you owe me a real date. one where you don't use me as school supplies."
Satoru Gojo is fucking gorgeous, which is so deeply unfair that you’re still kind of processing it as he pays for your movie ticket with trembling fingers. His white hair is slightly tousled, soft against his ears, and his glasses are tilted just a bit on the bridge of his nose. He keeps pushing them up like he’s stalling, trying not to meet your eyes too long because every time he does, he gets flustered. His face goes pink and he laughs too loud. You bite your lip every time he does that.
You’re no better. Your hands are clammy inside the sleeves of your hoodie, because you thought this was going to be a safe little date. Nerdy. Harmless. You met at a fucking Doraemon expo for god’s sake, where he gave you a Doraemon-shaped candy and then looked like he wanted to die from shyness.
And now you’re sitting in a too-dark movie theatre with his knee brushing yours.
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 as 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 the 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.
the most popular frat boy of tokyo university, satoru gojo, is soon to find out that the ‘nerdy’ girl he’s been crushing on is highkey a yandere.
the signs weren’t there at first.
you were quiet, respectful, and shy. it’s what made you stick out like a sore thumb to begin with. all the girls he knew were loud and desperate. you were a change of scenery, and he loved that about you.
with you were such an easy person to talk to, secrets blurting out with full trust in you. he’d tell you about his insecurities all while the weight of his body hovered over yours, sobbing quietly as you pecked his face. “it’s okay toru.. i’m here for you.” you’d never share anything he told you. all you did was write them down in your notebook, keeping track of when they were said and how he looked when saying it.
when he would invite you over to his parties, you wouldn’t leave his side for even a second. even when he needed to go to the bathroom or greet someone, you stand beside him with that warm smile on your face.
he found it cute how ‘awkward’ you were, being too scared to depart for him for just a bit.
but awkwardness wasn’t the case. you stayed close because you would lose it if your satoru was approached to by any of the sorority girls that were looking over at his direction for more seconds than necessary. you hated them. so fucking much. they thought that if they stuck out their tits enough, he would give them the time of day. you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling yourself grow upset just thinking about them.
“you want to go back home?” his voice snapped you out of it. you nodded, a small smile forming on your lips. “yes please..”
he walked you over to your side of his car, hand in hand. you had his license plate memorized by heart. and not to mention the tracker you had stuck to the bottom of the vehicle, just to make sure he wasn’t going around with other girls.
you’d keep note of which places he visited the most, a way of learning more about him. thanks to the little tracker, you found out he loved going to cafe’s & parks. when you had suggested your next date be at his favorite cafe, it still didn’t click in his head. “how’d you know i loved going there?”
“lucky guess.”
yeah, right.
“uhhh this is it right pretty?” he rolled down the window to see clearer if he had arrived at your place. “mhm!”
“great.” he smiled, fighting the urge to lean over and kiss you. “i’m gonna go back to the frat, my friends wanna keep playing pool.” you internally screamed. if he headed back, those other girls would try and make a move. “oh.. i was gonna ask if you could maybe stay the night?”
his face brightened. “really?”
you cleaned your room earlier, making sure to hide away the small shrine you had of him. all the pictures you’ve printed out — including text messages — the pencil he had let you borrow months ago, his hair strands, etc. “yeah.. um..” you looked away ‘nervously’ acting like a girl too afraid to ask for sex.
“oh..” satoru coo’ed. “i get it. you need me hm?”
you whimpered when his lips traced your jaw, fighting back a smirk at how easily he gave in, already discarding the idea of going back to that stupid party. “let’s go inside then.”
all the times you’ve stayed over at his, your hand so desperately wanted to reach into your panties to relief the aching of it while he slept next to you. his soft snores filling in the room and you disgustingly got off on it.
“fuck you’re so sweet tonight.” he pushed his tongue into your mouth, dragging you onto his lap when you reached your bedroom. the mattress sunk beneath the weight of you two, bed slightly creaking. “thought i told you to change the bed frame? it’s too fucking loud.” he groaned.
“i like it.. reminds me how loud it gets when you’re being rough.”
“shit you’re bold hm? where’s that shy little girl?”
you kissed him back as passionate as he was, moaning into his mouth when his hands gripped your ass. it was hot, until he yelped, pulling away. your eyes widened in faux sympathy, following the little amount of blood that came out of his bottom lip you had bitten into. “toru m’sorry-“
“no no, it’s fine sweetheart. really, it was hot. just be easy on me.” satoru hugged you close, feeling his heart break at the look on your face. “no need to be sorry, i promise.”
you hid away at his neck, darting out your tongue to taste the blood that had managed to stay on your lips. “let’s go back to what we were doing..”
he tasted better than you had imagined. you wanted more of him, much more. you gently placed your lips on his again, leaving multiple pecks.
“i’m sorry.” you pouted.
“baby, i already said it was okay. fuck look, it made me hard, see?”
sure enough, his cock was already straining against his pants, begging to be released. satoru swiftly took off your top, tossing it off the bed. “wanna do it raw?” you offered, moving your fingers on his pants zipper.
satoru froze for a brief moment. were you for real?
he let out a nervous chuckle, almost in disbelief. “did you decide not to be shy today? what’s going on with you.”
“i just need you.. a lot.” your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, warming fingertips skimming up his tip before traveling back down. “o-okay.” he moaned, bucking his hips upwards. truth was, you were gonna milk him dry until all of it was inside you. that way, he had no reason to leave you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“come on babe it’s gonna look so cool!” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy eyes in another attempt to convince him.
you’d been scrolling through pinterest, following your nightly routine, when you came across a really cute couple pic where the guy had lipstick marks all over his bicep, maybe an overly used idea but you still found it pretty cute. and well, safe to say the idea had been stuck in your head for a week before you finally decided to play dirty and convince him to recreate the exact same picture for your perfected instagram feed.
and in your book, playing dirty meant mean puppy eyes and pouty lips with glossy tears sitting tightly on the edge of your lashes, threatening to spill over them.
a sight you knew he was hopelessly weak for.
you grinned to yourself. he was as grumpy as ever, letting out a long groan before throwing an arm over his eyes in a poor attempt to ignore you. huge mistake.
you were sitting on top of him while he lay sprawled across couch with his legs hanging over the armrest. fond as he was of summer, he wasn’t exactly immune to the dry heat that came with it and now he was dealing with a persistent headache for days, causing him to lay in the same spot for hours until the sun went down. currently, he was in his fourth hour of the day.
“babee,” you whined with the exact pout you knew he could never resist.
he groaned again, one hand instinctively settling around your waist to steady you. “y’know you’re a fucking menace.”
you grinned. “does that mean yes?”
a tight silence stretched across his features. he sighed as his voice crawled up to a tone so defeated.
“do whatever you want.”
you let out an excited squeal, a scream of victory, before immediately reaching for the red lipstick.
ever since you’d started dating, you’d realized no matter how stubborn or intimidating he could be, never before had it seem as he had the determination to say a simple ‘no’ to you. at first he’d been genuinely confused by it, convinced there had to be some scientific explanation for why he was physically incapable of rejecting you. well, the explanation he came up with was that he was just a guy so in love. a guy weak and devoted in love.
he seemed to accept this half scientific explanation he had for himself wholeheartedly. he was a weak man.
and well, you never opposed to his logic.
you actually loved this side of him, where he was all sharp edges to everyone else with his permanent scowl sitting roughly on his face, for you he was simply a man in love who couldn’t even say a simple no because he adored you far too much.
you smiled as you finished applying the lipstick, settling yourself more comfortably on his stomach for a better angle.
leaning down, you pressed the first kiss against his bicep. perfect. you couldn’t help giggling when you noticed him subtly flexing, despite acting like he was being held hostage.
your lips lingered just long enough to leave a perfect imprint against his skin. and you felt his shuddering breath near your ears, caressing your neck. his hand tightened against your waist. he, again, exhaled softly. the soft breath brushed the side of your face and he caressed your skin with his rough hands.
“thought you were against to this,” you teased with a knowing grin. “it seems like you’re enjoying yourself.”
he gave your waist a light smack. “focus on your job.” you laughed, swiping on the lipstick over your lips once more.
by the time you were finished, his entire bicep was covered in neatly arranged and gorgeous looking kiss marks.
“i told you this would look good.” you said proudly. “kuna let me grab my phone real quick! i need to post this! where do you think the lightning would—“ your words turned into distracted humming as you wandered off toward the bedroom.
when you came back, your steps stopped in the doorway. you rolled your eyes. “this man…”
you gotta be kidding me.
you caught him in front of the mirror, his back slightly turned, flexing his biceps and his eyes trailing the kiss marks with a pleasant glint, admiring the view in the mirror.
“oh my god, kuna you narcissistic animal,”
he ignored you completely.
you winced seeing his smirk. he changed his pose, flexed his arm again and nodded with a certain approval.
you knew what you were getting into when you started dating sukuna; you knew the rep that surrounded him and the rumors that would follow. but some part of you—albiet a rather stupid part— thought that it wouldn't matter. you were in love, weren't you? at least that's what it felt like for some short time. those times quickly faded and were replaced by mere late night hookups and even later phone calls after days of radio silence from him.
today just happened to be one of the days where he stumbled back to your apartment and into your arms. perhaps another version of you would believe that he always came back to you because he loved you. now, as you look as his disheveled appearance and smell the perfume of another girl, you truly don't know what to think.
"hey, baby." he slurs over his words and the smile on his face would have had you fooled a couple of months ago. but you know better by now. and yet, you still don't push him away when he leans in for a kiss and walks into your apartment as if he owns the place. he pulls away from your lips but his hands stayed on your hips, preventing you from moving away. “y’know i love u right, baby?” sukuna says. maybe you would believe him if you couldnt practically taste the alcohol on him. in other circumstances, you wouldve thought he was really looking at you like he loved you. too bad you could see how red his eyes were. and if you looked even closer, you could see some remnants of glitter on his skin.
it wasn't a shocker that sukuna was going to clubs and making out with other girls. you've seen the posts, heard the stories, and you've grown numb to it now. it's not like what you had with sukuna was official anyways. he could call you his girlfriend all he wanted and vice versa, but nothing would change the fact that what you had was not a relationship.
you put your hands over his and force his hands off of you. he practically whines at the loss of touch but you try to stay firm.
"what are you doing here, sukuna?" you ask.
"came to see my girl," sukuna says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "what's so wrong with me coming to visit you?"
because you never do unless your drunk off your ass, you think to yourself. you contemplate voicing your thoughts but decide against it. you were already exhausted and the last thing you wanted to deal with was the man standing in front of you vying for your touch. you contemplate calling one of his frat brothers to come pick him up, not wanting to deal with him tonight but his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
"i feel like we never see each other anymore," he mutters, a frown prominent on his face.
"and who's fault is that?"
"are you mad at me or something?"
you rub your temples in an effort to ease the growing headache, "i'm just tired sukuna-"
"you never call me that unless your mad."
"it's your name, sukuna," you respond, emphasizing on his name causing his scowl to deepen. he's quick to step into your space and pull you into a hug once more, one you don't return. you feel him mutter something in the crevice of your neck. "what are you doing?"
"i said i love you," he repeats louder. "you never said it back."
"maybe tell me when your sober and i will."
"but im saying it now."
you push him away once more, making sure to keep him at an arm's length away now. "but you never mean it, do you?" his silence tells you everything you need to know. you sigh and drag him to the couch before pushing him onto the cushions. "you can stay here for the night but you're out of here when i wake up, understand?"
"you don't mean that, pretty baby," he smirks groggily, getting comfortable on your couch.
he's right, you didn't. but he didn't need to know that for now. you would deal with his ass in the morning. you toss a throw blanket on his face, "go to sleep, ryo."
before you get a chance to walk away, he grabs your wrist, "sleep with me?" the man is practically passed out but his grip is still a little firm. even then, it takes little effort from you to pry his fingers from your wrist. he's practically snoring by the time you've walked away. you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts until you land on toji's. you text him, knowing damn well he wouldn't answer a phone call, and head to your bedroom.
you
i need you to get sukuna out of my apt
toji doesn't respond until ten minutes later and answers with only a thumbs up. you stay up long enough to hear the knock on your door and open it to find toji and shiu. they greet you lightly and move to sukuna, who was passed out and drooling on your couch. toji and shiu hoist him up, one of sukuna's arms on each of their shoulders so they are carrying him in between.
"is this your way of ending it officially?" toji asks, adjusting his grip on sukuna's arm, ignoring his unconcious grumbles.
"i'll shoot him a text or something in case this isn't obvious enough. get him to pick up his shit tomorrow," you shrug off, trying to come off as indifferent as possible.
shiu whinces, "ouch- harsh even for this asshole."
you narrow your eyes, "if you're going to defend him, i should've just dragged him and left him out there."
"and he would've deserved every last bit, sweetheart," toji says. him and shiu move for the door but just before they leave, toji looks at you over his shoulder. "i know he doesn't make it seem like it, but he really does love you, yn."
you shake your head softly but you do your best to give him a smile. "goodnight toji. night shiu." they bid you farewell and you close the door. you take out your phone from your pocket and click on sukuna's contact. you spend too much effort crafting the message and too much time re-reading it. you hit send before you have a chance of backing out and block him quickly after.
it's over ryomen. ill have your stuff ready for you in the morning.
creds!! divider by @/chrisssiren
taglist!! @cttelina @bunbun812 @oksukuna @kriitee @bleepybl00p @sailormarsinanotherlife @sushikuna @icebearcucumber
an!! "its been a year daddy" ahh post (｡•́︿•̀｡) im sorry for my lack of posts guys,, im having a major writing slump
