Before You And Suguru Got Together, The Both Of You Would Hook Up A Lot, And Even Before Hooking Up,

before you and suguru got together, the both of you would hook up… a lot, and even before hooking up, he would always ask to eat you out, if you had to take a guess as to how many times he asked you, it was more than ten.

suguru knew you had good pussy; he needed your taste on his tongue and lips; he needed to taste you over and over again. he never craved anyone more than he craved you, texting you at three in the morning to see if you finally changed your mind.

it was a random saturday that you finally gave in, but he of course had to take you on a date first, and he did. took you out to eat, did the whole thing, and then when he took you back to his place, he was face first in your pussy.

he was salvating the entire time he was with you; he craved you, and now that he had you, he was going to make sure that you never ran away or tried to duck him again. 

suguru had a pillow underneath your lower back and had your thighs pushed up with his finger nails digging into you, his tongue spreading over your folds with his saliva dripping down them. 

it was just what he wanted; your taste was indescribable, and even though he was currently in it and licking it every which way, he couldn’t get your taste out of his mind, that’s when he knew he needed more of you each and every day. 

so this turned into a regular thing, you on your back while he was eating you out until your eyes were rolling back and your stomach was hurting from how hard you were sucking in from the pleasure he was giving it, his tongue was magic. 

suguru knew there was going to be a time in his life where he needed to be an eater twenty-four seven, meaning he had to make sure his jaw was working correctly, and his eating skills were right. 

that’s why he spent most of his hookups just eating the other person out; he didn’t just become an eater out of the blue; this was hard, dedicated work, and it was all worth it when he finally tasted you for the first time. 

he always wondered why he was always so caught up on eating pussy and why it satisfied him so much to the point he could go on for hours and hours and be good off of it. It’s because he developed an oral fixation. 

licking your pussy and having your juices melt into his tongue like ice cream was something he craved most of the day. your taste was foreign to him, yet he knew how you belonged on his tongue and no one else's. that's why he had to eat you out until you were hitting his head and telling him to stop. 

he would wake up in the middle of the night "dehydrated,” telling you to sit on your face or pulling you into a vacant bathroom during an event and lifting your dress up just to pull your pants to the side and eat you out until your fluids and his saliva mixed together and fell onto the floor. 

he would eat you out for three hours without missing a beat, and until you were physically crying or telling him to stop, he was never going to. that’s why you had to come up with a safe word to let him know that you were serious and to get off of you. it made him sad, but he knew you couldn’t take it like he wanted you to; that’s why he wanted to train you. 

training you was the only way you could deal with him eating you out for hours and not stopping. It's not his fault that you had a taste that he couldn’t keep out of his mouth, so he had to help you for the sake of both of you. 

telling you to take it even if you were on the verge of squirting; he didn’t care if you had to squirt; he would tell you to do it right in his mouth, because that’s what he craved and all he wanted from you; that’s how he knew he was doing a great job. 

over time, your pussy didn’t get "used" to the feeling at all; if anything, your pussy just became more sensitive. that was a good thing in his book; he loved that your pussy was so sensitive that you squirmed every time his tongue went over your clit. 

underground fight club.

↳ iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

— series masterlist.

summary. gym trainer by day, underground fighter by night—Hajime Iwaizumi gives you a front row access to Tokyo’s biggest underground fight club after setting his eyes on you as his shiny new toy. little does he know, you’re there to infiltrate the illegal underground fighting scene with another purpose in mind.

genre. angst, smut, underground fighter au, 18+

fic warnings. dom!iwa, explicit smut, various sexual kinks, profanity, heavy depictions of violence, physical assault, blood/injuries, usage of guns and other weapons, alcohol/intoxication, crimes, police brutality, mentions of traumas, toxic relationships

general masterlist + fanart one + fanart two + ko-fi

+ one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine + ten + eleven + twelve +

status: completed

all rights reserved © 2021 saintobio. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

◞  YEARNING OBSERVING YEARNING. 

꒰ satoru has been gone for three months thus far and you’re at the end of your rope with missing him. ꒱ 

ᴍᴅɴɪ. 5.2k. f!reader. no curses, idol au. fluff. angst. happy ending. est/semi-ldr. satoru’s a successful idol. sfw. reposted.

you know that this is his dream, but the loneliness you’re constantly left to face is becoming genuinely unbearable. long distance dynamics are not at all for the faint of heart. there are days when the video calls are all you long for, seeing his adorable face filling up the screen and smiling at you quite lovingly. then, there are days like today when, for a brief, fleeting moment, you consider breaking things off with the love of your life ꒰ and one of the most famous men in the world ꒱, gojo satoru.

it starts with the fact that your friend gets married and you have to go to the wedding all alone because you don’t have a date. your date is busy traveling the world, entertaining the masses, making women everywhere fawn and fall head over heels in love with him. the entirety of the event, you feel out of place with no one to dance with who isn’t a very seedy family member of the wedding party or a friend of yours who came with their own date and can’t act as your stand-in. so you opt to sit at a table alone, drinking your weight in roscato, staring at an open text thread because satoru read your message telling him how hard this was getting for you eleven hours prior but never responds. it hurts.

it’s the fact that you nearly always end up doing things like this alone. times and events where you would, can, or should bring a plus one and yours is actually able to attend with you is seldom. rarities. so painfully sporadic. it’s too hard doing the thing of being in love without being able to do the things of being in love. date nights out on the town? forget it, unless he takes you on an impromptu trip out of the country that’s so unplanned there’s no chance of you both being bombarded by the general public. paris is gorgeous. rome is phenomenal. america is a dizziness of diversity. but who wants to constantly have to pack up to take a thirteen-hour flight or longer for a three-hour date? it’s unnecessarily inconvenient. having a shoulder to cry on? not practical for his schedule. not practical for all the time zones that pack so tightly between you both that his mornings become your late evenings. his downtime is the peak of your busyness. you can only seem to synchronize free time in passing. nothing too long. nothing solid. nothing consistent. nothing secure. nothing remotely reassuring. for you, the foundation of the relationship is crumbling. satoru travels the world with his friends, endlessly doted on by his adoring fans, seeing new sights and forging new moments to reminisce fondly over in the future. but you? you’re stuck at home, stuck at your job that you hate so much and don’t even need but have anyway because working a job you hate is somehow still better than sitting at home with little yuuji and missing the boisterous laughter of your lover strolling through the house for months on end. agonizing ghosts of him singing frank sinatra in the hallway because he ‘loves the acoustics right there’ taunting and haunting you, not comforting in the least. everything is starting to always hurt.

12:22 am. you: i know you’re probably busy, but when you get time, we really, really need to talk about us.

teary-eyed and pouting, you stumble into your bedroom, a little yuuji trotting beside you as you drop your removed heels right at the entry of the bedroom door before slipping into the closet to undress. satoru hates when you do it, leave your shoes lying about, but once again, he’s not here to gripe at you about it or even to ask you to pick them back up. the house is always so empty and eerily quiet these days. everything always is. the house. the other side of the line when you do manage to get in touch with him. your heart. your willingness. the hope that keeps you in this for three years already. it’s all emptied out and vacant.

you just keep thinking about how this isn’t how you want to spend your life: not having a date to events with your friends, only sleeping next to him for a quarter of the year in total, getting by on facetime calls and those two-week periods that he’s allowed to be completely free, coping with still having to share him in that time, and worst of all, getting left on read to a text telling him how hard this is becoming. it’s becoming too much for you, and you know you need to tell him now or you’ll stay by his side, buried under the weight of your resentment. despite his routine absence, he doesn’t deserve that. satoru’s a wonderful man. the kindest one. the most earnest. the strongest. the most innocent. satoru is a good man — a good man who deserves the truth about where missing him is forcing you to stand. you text him again, the need to talk to him becoming borderline desperate.

12:26 am. you: i haven’t heard your voice in two days. i haven’t heard from you at all today. please. can you step away and call me for just a minute? 12:31 am. satoru: really busy right now baby. i was gonna text back as soon as we were done here. m’sorry. been on the move all day. we’ll talk soon i promise. i know you’re having a hard time. i’m trying to get done asap so we can talk. please don’t give up on me.

the last part of his text sends your tears spilling over your waterline. you find yourself sitting down on the floor of the closet in the beautiful gown he paid hundreds for just so you can attend a wedding alone. just so you can be spoken for but live like you’re not because you always get left on your own. you don’t want to give up on him. you don’t want to throw away a whole three years of building even this small, fragment of a life together, but this…this is agonizing. you’re miserable. not with him, but with the distance between you whose presence feels more permanent and more familiar than satoru’s.

12:34 am. you: i’m lonely, satoru. i miss you. i’m not handling all of this well right now. i’m having doubts. serious doubts. i just…we really have to talk, okay? i need you to make time for us to do that tonight. 12:40 am. satoru: baby…angel…are you about to leave me? because i won’t accept it. i won’t agree to you leaving me.

what does he mean he won’t accept it? you aren’t aware that you both can simply protest or completely disregard the verbs the other wants to perform that you don’t like, and why does he get to do so when he’s already left you?

12:41 am. satoru: you know you’re my angel, right? my everything? i love you so fucking much. i know the distance sucks right now, but we’ve gone longer, yeah? it’s been worse but we’ve made it every time, baby. please don’t leave. not like this. give me time. 12:45 am. you: time? is three years not enough? what am i supposed to do? i’m tired of crying every single day. all day. all because i can’t see you. i haven’t spoken to you. you stopped telling me good morning everyday weeks ago so i don’t even wake up to your affection. i can’t get you to answer your phone. i’m just here. taking care of the house and yuuji while you live your greatest life without me by your side. you don’t even need me.

that was the last text he was willing to exchange before he calls you. when you refuse to answer, he calls again. and again. and again.

1:18 am. satoru: answer the phone baby. let’s talk about this okay? love you so much. please pick up.

your stomach flips and you curse yourself because you’re in the starting stages of initiating the end of an era but you’re getting butterflies because he calls you baby, because he says he loves you, because he more than loves you. how can you confidently leave a man who can be thousands of miles away yet still make you feel like this? you’re uncertain if you’re ready for right now and what’s likely to occur or follow. because you say the words and you realize upon sending them that you aren’t angry. you aren’t yelling at him. you’re just stating the truth. you mean it. he doesn’t need you.

the truth is you’re not a priority for him right now because you can’t be. you accepted it for all this time, but thinking about marriage and a real life together, you don’t know if you want to build a future with a man who cannot prioritize building a future with you. this much is on you, on your indulgent heart who wanted to know the taste of his adoration despite knowing the obstacles that come in tow. you met him at a time when he was in the dead center of building a future for himself, and because of his job, you don’t have the luxury of being part of it. his company is vehemently against publicizing your relationship, especially now, especially when everything is so fragile and uncertain in the coming years, especially when satoru has just started inching towards his peak. the craziest part of it all is that neither of you wants to ‘publicize it’ with intention, but you want to go places together, like normal adults who’re dating, and if you guys are seen together then…oh well? but they’re against a single soul knowing you even exist in his world. they’re against you ever being seen at events, behind the scenes, anywhere during his tours. you have to stay at home, out of sight, out of the media, out of his management’s way of making him a star. to them, the rumors are bad enough. mitigating the media on the possibility satoru is dating openly is a headache to deal with let alone an actual, sustained relationship they’d likely have to keep mitigating the media over? it’s nothing personal for management, just business. what future would you guys be able to have like this?

1:23 am. satoru: i’m begging you please answer the phone. please talk to me. don’t give up on us. i miss you too baby. so let’s talk. answer the phone and spend time with me.

so when your phone rings again, ‘mister gojo 🐻’ in big, bold letters on the screen looking like his final plea, you sigh and answer morosely. sniffling, you greet him. “hey,” “angel…angel, you’re killing me.” a deep, shaky sigh. “baby, what’s going on in your head right now? fuck. leaving me? us?” the background is quite noisy and his volume is muffled by the array of sounds behind him: the indistinct chatter of all the others lingering wherever he is, a series of beeping and automated speech over an intercom, the sounds of scraping and rolling and static. it’s so distracting, but he calls you even though it’s horrendously inconvenient. you know it’s because you present a very serious, critical concern in your relationship that he seems to not have been expecting. he sighs immediately, his voice cracking. “i’m sorry i haven’t talked to you, angel. i am. i couldn’t.”   it breaks your heart to hear him sound so wounded by your words, but it’s how you’re feeling about it all. you wipe at your eyes. “i’m in my head because that’s the only place to be. i spend 85% of my time at home entertaining myself when i’m not working. everyone has things to do that don’t include me, and that’s…that’s fine, but feeling lonely when you’re not even alone is torture.” “we’re supposed to be upfront about stuff like this, not let it get so bad that you’re ready to go.” you hear him sniffle on the other side.

it doesn’t anger you, but it is frustrating. you’ve been trying to get in contact with him and talk about the difficulties you’re facing with his absence for days, but it’s either interviews or rehearsals, performances or photoshoots. there’s never even little slivers of time for you. even when he’s getting hair and makeup done, the stylists say he’s too distracted and it’s making applying his makeup harder. his members hate when he tries to talk while they’re all shuffled together traveling. and management gives not even a speckle of a fuck about him having time for you every day. there’s never any time to talk about it. you scoff. “i’ve been trying to for the last few days. you’re always too busy. you don’t text me back. you don’t pick up the phone anymore, baby.” you present the last part as a quiet sorrow. there’s no frustration behind it, only the part of you who’s desperately trying to keep your relationship intact despite all the distance that’s constantly forged between your yearning bodies, and failing.

“you’re supposed to tell me before, baby. like along the way. before it gets so overwhelming that you’re ready to leave me and throw away my entire heart when i’m literally trying to get home to you. before all of that.” you cover your mouth to hold back the sound of your own cries, forcing sniffles and tiny hiccups in the place of moaning and wailing. your vision becomes blurry and fills up with shimmering tears, because satoru is very openly, very audibly crying — small sobs and whimpers between his speech. “who said i don’t need you? who said that?” he asks, voice broken and fearful. “if i didn’t need you, i wouldn’t cry like a fucking baby at night because you’re not with me. i feel sick inside missing you. wishing you were here with me. wishing i could give you a normal fucking relationship, but i’m not in a normal position. you knew that. i told you. i begged you not to give up on me if you were agreeing to do this with me. you said forever and now you’re trying to take it back? no. i don’t accept that. i won’t. so what do i need to do to keep you? what will it take?” “satoru…please…” “no. there’s no please. tell me what i need to do to keep you. because honestly, angel, you’re ripping my fucking heart to shreds right now. we have to figure this out. there’s no way in hell i’m letting you walk away from us.” he sniffs, weak cries still flowing into the phone, painting every crevice of your heart in a shade of aching. “there’s no walking away from us, baby. okay?” your lower lip trembles, overwhelmed by his determination to keep you. maybe you’re wrong about not being a priority. “i’m sorry, satoru. i just…this has been so fucking hard. and then i went to the wedding all on my own. again. and everyone just keeps asking why you never show up with me anywhere. again. it just…it got to me really bad this time. it’s so hard. being completely and utterly taken but having to live practically single because your partner can’t be there. i miss you, satoru. i’m lonely.” “baby, i understand. i get it. i feel that way, too, you know?” his voice is soft, warm even, trying to maintain a sense of calmness, compassion, and love. “it’s hard for me, too.” “is it?” you question very seriously. “because every time i see clips of you from your shows on ig or tiktok, you look like you’re having the time of your life. smiling from ear to ear. being surrounded by so much love that it doesn’t seem to matter to have mine.” he squeaks but then goes silent. you hear the opening of a door and the harsh closing behind it, all the background noise falling completely silent. you hear that he’s still crying at the softest volume he can manage. when he speaks, his voice is softly appalled, brittle, threatening to crumble at any moment.

“how can you say that? how can you suggest you’re the only one in this having a brutal fucking time without the love of their life? because i smile for cameras and for my fans? because i want the people who paid hundreds of dollars just to see me to feel like they got the best version of me so they don’t feel disappointed? you’re taking that and measuring it to missing you? as if i don’t periodically call you in tears from how badly i wanna be with you? as if i don’t tell you how much i love touring but it’s a goddamn depressing time for my personal life because it means leaving my little family behind. you and yuuji. how can you say that? you can’t be here with me. i’m all yours and stuck being far away for so long. you don’t get to come to company banquets or award ceremonies to be there for me, with me. when i win anything, i have to get on stage and fight back my fucking tears because the one person i want to see looking back at me and thank for believing in me can’t be there with me. it kills me. it fucking destroys me inside. don’t tell me it’s not hard for me.”

upon hearing his words, there’s now a thick blanket of guilt covering the top of your sadness, feeling more like it’s suffocating you. you haven’t thought of it that way, from his perspective, haven’t even considered the amount of events he attends alone. he’s with his friends and members, sure, but times and events where he would, can, or should bring a plus one and his is actually able to attend is…never. for you, his presence is seldom. it’s rare, but it is. whereas with him, your attendance is entirely nonexistent. not because you want it that way. not for a lack of trying on your part. “i…you’re right…i can’t say that. it’s not fair.” you admit quietly, voice low and lightly ashamed of the words you say and his experience you disregard. “i’m sorry for saying that to you, satoru.” “let’s just get through this, okay? no apologies. i just want to keep you, and i can’t get off this phone until i know i am.” he sniffles hard. “i love you, angel. you know that, right? you know you’re not in this alone, yeah? we’re in it together.” tears still silently flowing, you respond tenderly. “i know you love me, satoru. i love you, too. but…are you even happy like this? don’t you want more than this?” “what more is there to want? i have exactly what i want and exactly what i need. and both of those things are you. of course, i wish you could be there and be here with me, but i know you’re supporting me no matter what. it pushes me to do my best every time. getting to see you after is the highlight of those evenings. skipping after parties to come crawl into bed with you is my favorite pastime.” you don’t say anything at first. you just wonder where to even go from here. he says breaking up isn’t an option. he says he’s going to stay on the phone until he knows he’s keeping you. he says he’s fine with things as they are, even if they hurt you both, because he has you, and it’s worth the sacrifice. you feel the same way; you do. and maybe for a split second, you just forget, become too jaded by the heaviness of feeling like you’ve been isolated and abandoned. but you recall quite vividly that you told him after the first year together that there’s no separating for you both. only forever and working it out. no forfeiting, only fighting tooth and nail to make it work. “what do i need to do, baby?” he asks, much softer, much more loving. “how can i keep you by my side?” the kaleidoscope of butterflies swarm you. the way it feels, it’s like your heart is free falling, diving to find him and be drowned in all his devotion. “i…i..” you sigh, shaky and defeated. “nothing…nothing at all, satoru. i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m sorry for all of this.” “just needing me?” he asks, his voice small and raspy, teeming with all of his longing. “because…i’m just needing you, too. and it hurts a lot.” although he can’t see, you nod in agreement. it does hurt a lot, a whole fucking lot. your quivering lip and tear-filled eyes can attest to that much. “yeah,” your fragile voice falls as a whisper. “m’just needing you so bad. and it hurts that you’re not here.” “m’on my way, okay? i’ll be home soon.” he promises. “just wait for me. give me a little more time. please, angel. just hold out a little longer for me.” “yeah…okay…okay. i’ll hold out.” you promise. “i miss you.” a sniffle and a declaration. “we won’t have to miss each other for much longer.” in the background, you hear him returning to all the noise. inwardly, you sigh. there’s always something distracting, always something in the way of you both being able to submerge into your time together fully. you both just got over a small hurdle that threatened to end in you leaving this house and the life you made with him inside of it. “it’s so fucking loud in here.” he grumbles. you hum, agreeing. “where are you even?” “airport,” he answers calmly. “connecting flight.”

when he says it, you aren’t sure why it makes you start to cry all over again. maybe because you know it means he’s still gone. he’s still so far away, and he’s not coming home soon. he still has more work to do, more promises to his fans to fulfill, and more time he owes them all. he’s on a connecting flight and probably didn’t anticipate having this conversation right now. he probably planned to be asleep, but he ends up reconciling having to go to their next show utterly heartbroken. “off to your next stop?” you ask, sniffling and continuing to wipe your tears. “yeah…yeah i am. my last one, actually.” he says. “my last flight for a very fucking long time, i hope.” this makes you smile, him talking about coming home, him talking about anything other than being gone for longer than the three months he’s already been. “where’s your last stop?” he chuckles. “i suppose we’ll find out soon enough.” “what? is it like some secret show they didn’t tell you guys about?” you ask him, confused by his response. he hums his uncertainty. “that’s fucking weird.” “yeah, a bit. but, baby…are we good?” he asks timidly. “you’re still mine?” you look down at your knees curled up to your chest, dejection filling up your existence, because you know as soon as you give him the answer he wants, he’ll be off, leaving you on your own again. still, you murmur, “yeah…yeah, i’m still yours.” “good,” he breathes. “no takebacks.” you giggle. “okay,” “promise?” “yeah, baby, i promise.” he sighs his relief. “you had me freaking out, baby. you had me fucking losing it. the thought of you leaving? coming home but it’s not to you? just yuuji and the house we picked together? all our pictures on the wall? i was gonna have a meltdown.” “i’m sorry.” in the closet still, you stand to your feet, finally finding the energy to get up and change into clothes you can sleep in. that’s all you want to do now: go to sleep so you can stop thinking about all of this, so you can have a few hours where missing him isn’t plaguing your existence and stealing the air in lungs, a few hours where his absence isn’t like a chisel to an ice block on your resolve. “no apologies.” his gentle reminder. “no walking away.” your soft agreemet. “i know, baby.” “only loving bear forever.” he adds. “only staying by his side.” you nod, a smile reshaping your lips that had sunk into a melancholic pout. “only loving bear forever. and staying by bear’s side.” “i love you, angel. i have to go, but get some rest. it’s late there. and i just know you left your shoes in the doorway. please pick them up. it’s so unsanitary and yuuji is already a little vacuum for random particles.” much to your surprise, you laugh. “how could you possibly know that?” “because you’re my honey and i know you.” you roll your eyes at him, still smiling fondly, heart bursting with reminders of why it’s him. why you chose him, why you were willing to do the hard part for all this time, why there’s no walking away, why there’s only loving him forever and staying by his side. “of course a bear would be quite familiar with his honey.” you note, nodding as you undress. “you get some rest, too. i love you so much.” “you better love me back.” he grumbles. “goodnight, angel. i love you, too. so, so much.” when the call ends, you find yourself crestfallen, succumbing to all the waves of indubitable despondency. here you are, alone again. ending your night alone again, laying on his side of the bed that doesn’t even smell like him anymore because he’s been a ghost to the egyptian cotton for months, alone again. you change into a big shirt, one of his, because if you can’t have him then you’ll cling to all of the belongings he leaves behind.

you find yourself observing the whole room as you saunter to your overly-sized and overwhelmingly empty bed. there’s pictures everywhere along the walls, all of memories you both have made in the last three years, all a display of the fondness that’s accumulated between you both in all this time, a quilt of attachment you both weave in love together.

he’s right, truly, there’s no walking away. not when every thread of your lives is tangled and stitched together, not when those tangles and stitches are the very seams of who you both are: part of each other. you lay in bed filled with regret about what’s happened, because even though he seems happy that he isn’t losing you, you worry he would start to have doubts of his own now that you’d basically threatened to leave him. does that mean it’ll be on the table for him in the future? when you fall asleep that night, weepy and emotional, a dark cloud of impending doom looming over your head, you wonder why he can’t be there. why can’t you both be together without anything or anyone in the way? the next morning, you wake up groaning because yuuji’s zooming through the house, barking at the top of his baby lungs and you’ve had enough already. how can a creature that hardly weighs 10lbs emit such sounds and project them so loudly? you pull another pillow over your face to drown out the sound. there’s no way it isn’t incredibly early, so yuuji’s behavior is quite honestly disrespectful. “yuu, please.” you whine, pulling blankets over your head. “let mommy sleep.” what alarms you then is the shuffling in the hallway you hear and you spring up, heart racing in your chest thinking that someone’s gotten in and that’s why yuuji’s having a conniption. unsure of what to do, because you have neither weapons nor burglar-combat strength, you decide to crouch down beside the bed, contemplating whether or not you should go ahead and try to wedge yourself underneath it. you aren’t expecting anyone. satoru is god knows where. the only other people with a key are his two best friends outside of his members and parents, but all of those people call before showing up. yuuji’s barking turns into whining, and the voice that coos his name sends your heart clambering up into your throat. “aww, did you miss daddy?” satoru coos in the hallway right outside the bedroom door. “i missed you, too, bud. let’s go see if your mom missed me as much as she says she does.” upon hearing his voice, realizing it’s him and he’s home, you rise to your feet so fast, you nearly fall right back down to the floor. you squeak trying to catch your steps. when you look up, your favorite boy is standing in the doorway to your bedroom, looking at you with a lazy grin spanninng his lips, a huge duffle on his shoulders that he drops immediately upon seeing you. of course, your sobbing and blubbering is instantaneous. “you’re home?” you ask, lips set into a deep pout. “really home?” he nods, ardent eyes melting at the sight of you. “angel, get over here.” and you do. you go around the bed carefully because you have a horrible habit of running into things. you shoot straight for his arms that are wide open and waiting, ready to receive you urgently and without hesitation, scooping you up while your legs wrap around him and your arms go around his shoulders. he’s home. he’s home. he’s home. “why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, so angry and so grateful at the same time. “oh my god, i almost broke up with you on your way fucking home?” the sob you release makes him chuckle, becoming teary-eyed himself.

“i missed you so fucking much. i knew i was coming home early to surprise you. i almost spoiled every-fucking-thing when you tried to leave me.” he told you, hot tears spilling out his eyes. “i didn’t answer for all that time because i was on a twelve-hour flight, baby. we literally had landed to catch our connect. i…baby, i got so scared i was about to come home to an empty house. i got your texts and my fucking heart dropped.” now, he’s moving you both toward your bed. you cradle his cheeks in the palms of your hands, apologetic eyes peering at him. when his eyes meet yours again, you both pause, realizing your irises are merely reflections of the other’s, yearning observing yearning. 

“you have two seconds to kiss me before i devour you.” he warns. “hurry, your bear is ready to hibernate.” “bear doesn’t want a taste of honey beforehand?” you ask seductively. giggling, you close the distance between your mouths, elation and eagerness being traded between breaths. this is truly all you want, all you cried on the closet floor for — a kiss and a halcyon sigh, two arms around you, and sinking into the future you both promised. he grins, a shake of the head, “when bear wakes up, it’ll be spring, and he’s going to eat his fill of honey then.”

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ RIDE DA D!CK LIKE A CARNIVAL ! ’﹒⺡

geto, choso, gojo, toji, nanami.

જ warnings. fem! reader, riding, cowgirl / reverse, praise, degredation, shotgunning, (toji) overstim, impact play, size kink, unprotected, breeding, cőckwarming, toy usage, nípple play, mdni.

𖢺 CHOSO KAMO.

“princess, wait,” choso huffs out. he leans back, still gradually catching his breath whilst you straddled him. he swallowed thickly, dark irises staring right into yours. his gaze lingers down your body, and he lets off a soft pout at the feeling of being so buried deep into you. “i- i can go again, want you to ride me,” and then he pauses, running a hand through his hair. “oh. i mean—please. if you still have energy.”

“okay baby,” you hum, and your voice was so smooth. the way you called him your baby, it had him so weak. choso stared intently as you playfully give him a soft shove on his back. “just lie back ‘n let me ride you, yeah?”

choso’s heavily panting, he goes mute for a split second and it’s if as words was practically nonexistent for him. with a raring nod, he brings two big hands towards your hips.

“good boy,” you murmur, pressed right up against his ear. you were merely teasing. although, you felt his dick twitch eagerly inside you. choso’s fingers softly stroke against your waist, and he moans once you start to move your hips forward. he’s still so sensitive from before, just barely over the intense mess he made — and now, you were about to make an even bigger one.

“oh f-fuckkk,” he drags out. it was awfully cute, choso’s pitchy deep voice turning out to be far more whiney than he intended. you were gripping him tightly, hugging him with your walls before not even seconds go by and he throws his head back. “yeah, yeahhh. ride me like that, fuck me, fuck me good, princess. please.”

he leans back before groaning at the way your walls grip around him, hugging him so tightly. choso can’t keep his hands off of you, he runs the tips of his fingers against the edges of your waist before pouting. “harder, f-faster.”

you’d giggle, leaning in to kiss his nose. “are you rushing me, baby?”

“n-nooo,” he breathes, and he feels you gradually grinding your hips against him. you stare at choso’s face—beads of sweat race down the sides of his forehead, and he whimpers. “your hips, ‘s killing me. so good,” and he’s just rambling to you by this point. it was adorable, the way his jaw would clench or tighten. the angle you had against him made his mind spiral. his cock reached deep, hitting all the right spots to even elicit a sweet moan or two from you as well.

choso’s panting, you playfully run a finger down his bare chest and he grunts. you had an compelling rhythm, making him only want you more. he lets off a sweet whine once you lean right up to his ear, whispering a sweet, “don’t be shy, baby. you can hold my hips.”

“fuck y-your voice ‘s gonna make me cum,” he babbles, bringing his rough hands towards your waist once more. he was so cute, far sensitive from his recent release. choso was gentle with his touch but his fingers were no stranger towards your body, roaming all over your hips sensually.

the sounds your pussy made in retaliation, squelch after squelch — it rang in his ears. it drove him dizzy, his mind was in for a loop.

choso’s eyes sexily roll back, and a tiny smile presses against his lips. you watch as he removes one hand from your waist, reaching above him to hold onto the headboard. his biceps, they curled and flexed and it made you stare a bit too long.

“how’s it feel? is it good?” you’d hum, leaning in to sneak a kiss near the corner of his mouth. his lips twitch, and it's so cute.

“you always make me feel good, princess,” he huffs out, one arm wrapping around you. your rhythm . . it was purely hypnotizing, you knew just how to take him.

so much of his inches burying into you, you made sure not to bounce your hips but grind. adding just a bit of pressure—he loves when you start to get a bit sloppy. the way he’s leaning back, it was unintentionally attractive.

it doesn’t take long before choso was approaching another heavily anticipated orgasm. he felt it, and he squeezed your hips with a cute needy look in his eyes. “i-i’m gonna make a mess again,” and his breathing cutely picks up. choso pulls you closer towards him. you don’t expect for him to bring his mouth towards your chest, softly lapping his tongue against your perky nipples. “gonna, ‘m gonna cum.”

“m-make a mess for me, baby,” you moaned, making your hips slow down just a bit so he could stimulate your nipples with his tongue. “it’s okay.”

your words were so smooth, he got off to simply your tone. it was building up and up—his thigh continued to bounce. and for yet a second time, he whimpers out once he feels himself pouring inside of you. a thick stringy load, ropes and ropes of his cum filling inside of your sweet cunt.

“f-fuck,” he’d whine, and it was as if everytime choso sweared, it made him ten times cuter. you giggle, panting yourself before kissing near his nose. choso’s eyes—he could barely keep them open. “ride me,” he pauses between his words, and you watch as he leans back, bringing a hand towards between your legs to feel his mess he created inside you. “ride me again, and a-again, and again….please.”

𖢺 NANAMI KENTO.

with nanami, he prefers for you to ride him whenever — especially whenever he gets home from work. a long tiring day at work, he loves coming home to you in hopes that you’d ride all of his pent up stress away. and you certainly do, happily.

“i missed my wife,” he’d grumble, and he was so knackered. you could hear it in his voice, whenever nanami was a bit drowsy his tone would deepen a bit. he was so tender with his touch against your hips. softly tracing against your skin to make you nearly lose your mind. “and i really missed these hips.”

you sat still with nanami’s dick being stuffed deep inside of your pussy. just a single move and he’d be even deeper. the thought of that made you salivate. he knew he was big just as much as you did. always the perfect size for you, never otherwise.

“good girl. get niiiice ‘n comfortable for me, okay?” and his words went straight down between your legs, you let off a moan once you buried your face into his neck. his strong scented cologne he had on all day at work wafts against your nose.

“okay…okay,” you’d mutter, feeling his big hands make its way towards your ass. he was always so handsy, allowing his rough hands to meander and roam all over your rear. you shiver a bit, feeling the coldness of his watch band run across your skin. “s-so big, kento.”

“ah. don’t hide that pretty face from me my love,” he’d purr, making you sit upright to face him. once you start to move—he grips your waist with one hand, another cupping your face.

nanami brings you into a loving kiss the moment you start to jerk your hips forward. you moan into his mouth, skimming your tongue against his and he even grunts lowly. a smile pokes near the corner of his lips before you hear him chuckle.

he adored how weak he had you for him, your hips stutter the more he swiftly runs a finger against your waist. once he pulls away, strings of pretty spit departing — he huffs out a sweet, “are you gonna move or do i have to do all the work like usual, sweetheart?”

“s-sorry,” you’d pant, and he was merely teasing. nanami simpers at the cute pout spreading on your lips and you start to adapt to a sweet sweet rhythm. he was so thick, stretching out your walls with such ease. nanami groans, he was still in his work clothes. long black slacks of his were just lazily pulled down and he had a button up shirt. his worn out collar was covered with nothing but a few smeared marks of your lipstick. “f-fuckkk, kento.”

nanami’s breath gets caught in his throat, feeling how wisely you used your hips against him. the lights in the room were dim. a few sweetened candles lit, the perfect romantic scene.

nanami stared at you with such a look of love, a soft smirk purses on his lips before he pulls you closer towards him.

“always know how to make me feel good, my love,” he murmurs against your ear. his voice was a low rasp. nanami’s face started to get a bit flustered once you started to moan directly into his ear. “i know, i knowww,” and he was talking you through everything in that smooth rich voice. it got you ten times wetter than you already were. you didn’t even know if that was possible. “keep looking at me, sweetheart. i wanna get lost in my wife’s pretty eyes.”

your started to whine once his dick reaches a pivotal spot. so deep, you feel him expand anywhere and everywhere like it was nothing. as you stared into his pretty brown eyes, you quickened your pace by a few simple thrusts. nanami returns your gaze, and he’s so in love that he can’t help but smile as you’re completely losing yourself on him.

“kento, k-kento, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you’d start to babble after a while—you felt a bit woozy, leaning into his neck to softly suck against his skin. you nipped near the inner part of his collarbone, and he lets off a low groan. nanami leans back a little, just a little… and once he feels you grind in a back and forth motion he nearly loses it. so slow, the repetitive motion made his jaw tighten. you slip out a whimper once his cock prods against your g-spot, and your hands yank onto the fabric of his shirt.

“the pretty girl’s gonna cum on me, hm?” nanami teases, feeling you spread your legs against him a little bit. he brings a kiss towards your chin before bringing both hands towards your waist again. “look at that face, so cute ‘n needy,” and he can’t help but kiss you again. as you rocked back and forth, rotating your hips in long circles . . . he starts to pant himself. you start to nibble on his tongue and he chuckles, squeezing your waist before you whimpered.

once you came, it was so powerful. a bundle of nerves coursing all through your veins—you were speechless, breaking away from his lips before wrapping your arms around nanami. he found it cute at how you came a bit earlier than usual, but nonetheless he still made sure to praise you. “what a good girl,” he mutters in a husky voice before softly caressing your ass. “my good girl.”

𖢺 GOJO SATORU.

“pft. girl pleaseee,” gojo scoffs with a snort. he was so sassy, way too sassy for even his own good. he leaned back against the chair as you straddled his lap. “you wanna ride me while i wear my blindfold? easy, knock yourself out.”

“and you can’t touch me either,” you roll your eyes at him. he snickers with an attitude, not used to people matching his cocky energy.

a pout goes on his lips before he mutters, “whatever….fine,” and it’s so cute. he loved touching you whenever you rode him, so you can just imagine how he’d act right now. gojo sits up straight, and he watches as you drag his blindfold that was half on his face—moving it right down to shield his eyes. he can practically feel you glaring at him and he grumbles. “i won’t cheat or try anything, hmph.”

“good satoru.”

“the nerve,” he grouses cutely. “shut up.”

gojo grows quiet the moment you start to align yourself, he was definitely long. long and lengthy, staggering inches that was enough to stretch you out for hours. not even a second goes by and he whines once you make him pin his arms back.

perhaps he was a bit too cocky though, because he desperately wanted to grab onto your waist whilst you rode him. his tip was leaky, dripping profusely with his own pre-cum. his breathing was slow, becoming a bit irregular once you started to gradually sink down on his length.

“aw. for the strongest, he’s got such a cute little pout.” you tease, and he lets off a choked gasp once you start to move. you’d bet money gojo was glaring at you - but his eyes were hidden away, so you’d have no idea.

that made you smile, he lets off a husky groan the moment he feels you create up a slow yet steady pace. whether he wanted to admit it or not, gojo was no match for your hips. your hips, probably the only thing he’d fight against and lose. proudly though, he loved having you on top—despite being a brat about it or not. “heh, baby, if you’re gonna fuck me, go faster would ya? ‘m gonna fall asleep at this r-rate.”

and he literally eats his words the moment you push him back against the cushion. he found you doing things like this to be so hot. your pussy had him in a chokehold, no doubt. your torso was upright and your thighs briefly moved with your movements in sync. this angle, it had his head spinning. he wanted to touch you so bad, to see your face — but he couldn’t, and it made him pout even more.

“mhm. lot better.”

“do you ever shut up?” you snicker, leaning in to kiss near the corn ever of his mouth.

“so r-rude,” he’d moan, and he had to admit he was always quite talkative. especially during intimate times like this. each time you pressed a wet kisses against his mouth, his lips would twitch. he wanted more and more, becoming entirely greedy for more of your sweet touch. he was so shoved deep inside you, you felt him reach everywhere. his dick twitched inside you in more ways than you could count. “lucky i can’t see you right now. bet you got the most s-stupidest look on your face.”

“maybe i should have taped your mouth shut too.” you roll your eyes, swaying your hips in a circular addicting motion. it made gojo moan, his thighs aching for more as you continuously went against him.

“damn, that’s—kinda kinky,” he murmurs in a low tone, huffing out a single breath. “maybe you should have.”

despite gojo putting up a pompous front, trying to act like he’s not about to cum for the umpteenth time—you kiss near his neck to make him let off a moan. “you wanna touch me so bad.”you whisper, licking near his neck to hear his breathing hitch. you’re steady with your hips, and he swallows thickly before feeling himself start to approach that familiar finish. you’re so pressed up against him, your body heat forevermore clashes against his. the moment you jerk forward for about the dozenth time, gojo whines before he ends up shooting inside your cunt.

he’s panting heavily, heaving as he trickles ropes inside of you — you moan yourself as he stays still. your hips pause and he feels the tips of his ears grow a scorching hot. “i can feel ya smiling at me,” he grumbles, his abs flexing the more huffed breaths he took. you smile, kissing underneath his chin for a final time before removing his blindfold. his hair was all messy and ruffled, and gojo’s face grows flustered. “…don’t look at me like that. i’d still top you any day.”

“okay, princess. whatever you say..”

“….”

𖢺 SUGURU GETO.

“go ahead ‘n lie back,” he murmurs in a soft smooth voice. a voice that had you soaking from underneath. your panties were still on, just barely though.

with strings lazily pulled to the side, you were propped up against geto and he has his chin softly resting on your collarbone.

“good girl,” he whispers once your back meets direct contact with his chest. by this point, you were basically cockwarming him. he stood tall and still inside you—geto groans, nipping a kiss near the inner part of your neck before uttering, “you have that toy i bought for you, angel?”

“y-yes,” you immediately reply. your voice was so shaky and soft. just a few touches from geto and you were easily stumbling over your words.

he feels you reach beside him, near the nightstand to grab the pretty pink wand he bought you as a surprise. not even wanting to waste time, you turn the switch on and with a loud buzz — it vibrates a singing tune.

“suguru,” you’d whimper out, trying to move your hips but he holds you steady in place. “can i move please?”

“you may,” he says in a low undertone. he brings a hand over you and grabs onto your wrist. you let off a moan once he holds the toy with you, bringing it between your achey clit. “spread your legs a little bit more for me. good, perfect.”

you gasp, feeling him gently rub the head of the toy against your clit whilst you were starting to grind. geto groans, feeling your left hand dig into his thigh.

“s-suguruuu,” you’d sob out, your lips cutely pursing together. he was very much thick, your thighs quivered and quavered from the sensitive stimulation. “fuck, ‘s good. turn it up a little more p-pretty please.”

he smiles, hearing you use such graceful manners like a good girl — his good girl.

geto goes through with your wish, turning the level up a single notch and you moan. sucking in a sharp breath, this position was so lewd. riding geto in reverse, it was heavily g-spot friendly. you went slow, moving your hips in the same recurrent rotation. it makes him bite his lip, his eyes flickering down towards your ass.

“so good for me,” he whispers against your ear. yet that’s when geto pulls you closer into him, biting softly near your neck. the vibrations had you trembling all in his lap, every nerve throughout your body, you felt its presence introduce itself.

geto snickers, feeling you grab onto his hand, moving the toy up and down against the entrance of your clit. in such a sensual manner too—he starts to whisper such filthy things against your ear while you’re getting off. “hear how wet you are for me, baby? so sloppy. pussy’s just talkin’ back to me. no fuckin’ manners, ‘s kinda cute.”

his words, it was so dirty.

you could barely process anything. you panted, staring right in front where a mirror was stood tall. the lewd reflection of you, you’re laid back against geto’s bare chest, slowly rotating your hips. your legs start to shake more and more from the toy’s vibration. teeth clenching, eyelids lowering, it was purely euphoric..

geto’s knees were raised just a bit to better support himself, and he brings a hand around your waist. his touch, it never failed to make you weak. he filled your pussy up with so many thick inches of his cock, his girth nearly had you drooling.

“easy, girl,” he whispers once you start to fasten your pace a bit. you were getting so close, you could taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. his words stirred up butterflies in your stomach, and you moan once geto moves the toy aside just to take matters into his own hands. he starts to rub against your slick entrance himself, feeling just how soaked you were, mindlessly throbbing.

if it was anything geto was good with, it was his fingers. he snickers against your ear, maneuvering sweet circles against your cunt before your thighs start to lock and tremble. by this point, you were slowing down and you whimpered, feeling a familiar feeling brew up.

milliseconds later, he coaxed an orgasm out of you like it was nothing. your body felt limp, and you cutely went back against him, pant after pant. “awww,” geto hums, and his dick remains still inside of you. geto removed his lengthy fingers, only to bring them towards your face. “open wide for me, baby. taste how much of a mess you made on me,” and without a second of hesitation, you part your lips, moving your tongue, and take his fingers right into your mouth. you moaned, making your hips start up again because you wanted more — it was salacious, tasting your sweetness all on his fingers, lapping it up. “such a messy baby. should make you clean my cock up next with that pretty tongue of yours.”

𖢺 TOJI FUSHIGURO.

with toji, he’d have you riding him whilst he’s watching some movie or tv show. it’s playing in the background, and he has to keep turning the volume up notch after notch to drown out your cute moans. “doll, y’er gonna make me miss the good part.”

you huff out a single hitched breath, wrapping your arms over him. it was your idea to ride him, he didn’t mind, not in the slightest. toji was smoking too — a perfectly rolled up blunt sticking out near the corner of his lips. toji brings a rough hand towards your head, giving you a stiff pat.

he was so big, regardless of how many countless times you took him. you could never get used to his size. his cock stretched your walls out so easily, it had you drooling for more.

his base thwacked against you the more you piston your hips, moving back and forth in a repetitive rhythm. toji’s attention was mainly focused on the movie, a raspy chortle leaving his lips from the cheesy written dialogue.

he spots you glaring at him and he smirks. “what? can’t you see i’m busy.”

“pay attention to me,” you whine, and toji only snickers at your cute needy tone. your pussy wrapped around him, a tight snug and an even more perfect fit. your rhythm was smooth, it was a perfect mixture of not too slow — yet not too fast either.

as you stared into toji’s dark eyes, his senses was severely heightened and he takes the blunt from his lips before raising a brow. “gimme a kiss.”

“eh. don’t gotta give you shit,” he mocks your tone, making a pout form in your lips. he was such an insufferable tease, his left hand spanks your ass sharply, earning out a sweet whimper from you. toji caresses it afterwards, only to spank it again. “say pretty please. go ‘head, talk to me nice, little girl.”

you cutely glare before looking down, clawing near his perfectly toned chest. “i— can i have a kiss, pretty please?”

“it’s may i, not can i.”

“toji!”

he slyly smiles, rolling his dark green eyes. “i’m just fuckin’ with you,” and he brings a hand towards your ass yet again. his touch was so smooth, tracing your curves gingerly all against your waist. “c’mere ’n open y’er mouth.” he was balls deep, buried to the hilt and he lightly groans from feeling your warmth swallow him.

you were so toasty inside, you inch closer towards his face before opening your mouth slightly. toji licks his lips briefly, his tongue dragging against his scar before he blows smoke right into your mouth. you whine again from his teasing and he smirks. “oh. the baby’s still not satisfied?”

“want a kiss,” you pout, your weight just hovering over him. he felt your rhythm slow down and he chuckles — seeing you grow frustrated with your eyebrows curling into an irritated furrow. toji grabs your chin, and he pulls you right into him. you moaned, feeling him smack your ass to start riding him again. “t-toji please.”

“such a needy baby. always wanting a kiss,” and he gives you that kiss you so desperately yearned for. you whimper in his mouth, tasting how sweet he was. he places his blunt back near his tray and you were handsy, wrapping both arms over him. he chuckles, feeling you start to rock against him, his swollen cock was so fat inside of you—you just imagined the thought of him dumping yet another sloppy load into you. toji grunts, feeling you start to suck on his tongue, he leans back against the sofa while you deepen the kiss even further.

he groans, a hand curling around your throat, softly running a finger down the middle part of your neck before he briefly pulls away. toji’s eyes were half-lidded and right before he was about to finish inside of you, he pushes you aside to stare at the movie. black end credits were rolling and he grumbles. “tch. made me miss the ending.”

“s-sorry.” you mumble, catching your breath. you clearly wanted more . . still, he was stuffing you full with thick inches of his cock. you let off a gasp once toji lightly jostled you off of him. you land with a ‘oof’ — face flat on the sofa before he brings your ass a spank.

“yeah right,” he grumbles, grabbing his blunt again to stick it right between his teeth. he sucks through the air of the joint before groaning at your teasing arch. “know one way you can make it up to me. jus’ bend over ‘n face straight just for me, girl.”

kinktober - day seven

kink: sensory deprivation with felix

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. use of blindfolds, new kink, unprotected sex. afab!reader.

felix is the one that brings it up, which surprises you because you’re usually the one that brings new things to the bedroom for the two of you to try. he’s a little shy about it, turning his computer screen towards you subtly and waiting for you to look up from your phone to notice. 

“ooh, kinky,” you tease when you see the page he has open, sex toys and furniture littering the screen with outrageous prices screaming out at you. “i thought you were gaming.”

“i was,” he whines a bit, sulking in the way he does when you poke fun at him. “but i was also thinking. about trying something new?”

“what were you thinking of baby?” your voice goes a little softer, warmth bubbling up in you as you sneak an arm around his so you can hold onto his bicep. 

“there’s this blindfold,” he starts, hovering his mouse over a silky piece of red fabric. “i was thinking i could use it on you? i think it would be really sexy.”

he doesn’t ask if it’s something that you would want to do, but the unspoken question is present in his words. you’re both good at maintaining your boundaries, both during sex and not, and the trust that you hold for each other is something you’re forever grateful for. 

“i’ve never considered it, but i would love to try it,” you lean closer to the screen, checking out the blindfold. “but this one’s really expensive. we can just use an eye mask or something, no?”

“i want to get this one,” he presses, sounding firm. “it’s made of this special material that doesn’t bother your skin, and the reviews say it’s really easy to untie if you need to do it quickly.” 

“you’ve put some thought into this, hmm?” you sneak your hand lower, fingers brushing at his waist. 

“yeah,” he breathes out, turning towards you to press his lips against yours. he bites at your lower lip, a quick thing, but you don’t let him pull away. you swing a leg over his, stomach swooping a bit when his gaming chair dips backwards with your combined weight. the blindfold is forgotten, for now. 

until it arrives in the mail, weeks later. the little package is addressed to him, but you recognize the name on the return address as the website he was looking at, so you rip it open and inspect it. it comes in a little satin bag, and when you open the drawstring it’s almost like you’re unwrapping something made of gold. the blindfold is nice though, the material soft and pliable against your fingers, and you hold it up to your cheek just to see what it would feel like. 

“it’s here?” he appears behind you, smirking when he sees it pressed up to your face. he doesn’t tease you for it now, but you know he’s tucking that information somewhere into his head to bring back later. 

“yes, can we use it now?” you’re a little surprised by how eager you are, but you can’t deny that the thought of having your sight taken away while felix ravishes you hasn’t left your mind since he brought it up. you thought that you would look a little sexier when it happened, maybe wearing your red lingerie set to complement the fabric, but right now you couldn’t care less that you were in leggings and an old t-shirt, not even a bra on. 

“you don’t have to ask me twice,” he plucks the blindfold from your hands and drags you to the bedroom, pushing you to sit at the foot of the bed. 

he’s so gentle when he ties the silky fabric around your head, making sure it’s not too tight on your eyes and that your hair doesn’t get tangled into the knot he’s making. it sets you completely at ease, any lingering anxiety that was present drifting away along with your sight. even your excitement seems dulled with the blanket of peace that’s settled over you. 

“okay?” his voice is almost deeper like this, your inability to see his lips moving in front of you making the sound more intense. 

“more than okay,” you say, knowing that he likes verbal affirmations at times like this. 

“i’m going to take your shirt off now, alright?” and even with the warning, you jump when his hands touch your waist, dipping against your skin as he peels your shirt off. it almost slides the blindfold off at it goes over your head, but he holds it in place, cradling the back of your head carefully. 

you knew that this would be different, but nothing could have prepared you for every brush of his skin against yours feeling like licks of fire dancing on your body. he takes off your sweatpants with the same amount of care, dragging them along with your panties down your legs until you’re left completely bare on the bed. the comforter feels so solid under your thighs, even the air seems hard where it’s touching you from every possible angle. he gently pushes you to lay down, warm hand on your back keeping you from falling too quickly.

there’s a rustle of sound to your left, and when he comes back and kneels over you he’s naked. he took off his clothes, your head feels the need to narrate what you can’t see happening. you wish you could see him, look into his eyes that you knew were filled with fondness as he runs his hands up and down your sides. he stops at your breasts, cupping one in his hand and running his thumb over your nipple. you can’t control the gasp that leaves you - you’ve felt this exact sensation before, but right now it feels different. it’s not the same as when you close your eyes when you’re overwhelmed, because at least then you can still see the kaleidoscope colors behind your lids. your entire field of vision is pitch black now, no matter where you look it’s planes of nothing. 

he leans forward and kisses you, and every nerve ending in your face lights up in pleasure. he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip before pulling away, and you chase his lips with a whine, blindly reaching out for him. 

“naughty,” he teases, voice rumbling against your ears. “next time i might have to tie you up.”

“oh,” you breathe out, his words sending a rush of heat to your core. 

“you would like that, wouldn’t you?” his words are warm on your skin. “you love being here like this, at my mercy for me to do whatever i want to you.”

“lix,” you whine, the need to have him as close as possible to you stronger than it ever has been. he crawls off of you, leaving you defeated on the mattress, another whine bubbling up in your throat until you feel something soft and wet stripe across your inner thigh.

his tongue. 

he presses feather light kisses to your thighs, further and further up until he reaches your pussy and his hands come into play to spread your folds apart to make room. he dives in hungrily, just an ounce of your desperation showing in him as he laps at you with urgency. it’s a sharp contrast between the gentleness he had been touching you with earlier, and you can’t stop your hips from bucking up into his face. 

“felix - lix-” you stutter out, head whipping to the side to try and hide your face. your head hits nothing, the pillow you thought was there was out of sight, literally, and a tear escapes your eye and seeps into the blindfold. you’re so overwhelmed.

“what baby?” the deepness of his voice radiates against your skin, you swear you can feel it against your clit and your entire body squirms. you need him inside of you, now, you can’t take it anymore.

“please lix,” desperation lines your words. “want your cock.”

“my baby is so polite,” he coos at you, tracing his fingers up your inner thigh towards your pussy. sensitive. “saying please while she’s asking for cock.”

you might have been embarrassed about the sound you let out any other day, but right now all you could think about was how badly you wanted him.

“okay, sweetheart,” he relents, pulling his fingers back. “do you want my cock in your mouth or in your cunt?” 

“cunt, please,” it was almost an impossible choice, but with the way your walls were clenching in on nothing you didn’t think you could survive without something inside of you. 

he enters you slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock dragging against your walls until he’s bottomed out. he didn’t prep you, but with the way your spit-mixed slick is dripping into the bedsheets the glide is perfect. he cradles your face as he moves, pressing kisses to your forehead to soothe you, his hair tickling the sides of your face. you feel so strung out even though you haven’t come yet, like you’ve been running a marathon non-stop with no end in sight. 

“you feel so good, so tight,” felix groans, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, drawing a choked gasp from you. “i wish you could see yourself, god, you look divine.”

“ngh,” is all you can let out as he starts fucking into you, holding you as close as possible to him as he rocks the two of you back and forth. the headboard hits the wall in time with your heart, the sounds invading all of your senses along with the drag of his cock inside of you.

his hands flutter from squeezing at your sides to your tits, tickling at your skin as they travel up and down, up and down. you can feel the drool pooling up in your open mouth, aborted sounds leaving your throat as he hits the same spot inside of you that sends rumbles up your entire spine, over and over and over. one of his hands tangles into your hair, right above where the blindfold was tied, and the other sneaks past your lower belly towards your swollen clit. he swipes his tongue through it and you jerk under him; he shushes you, not pausing his evened thrusts for a single moment. 

“come for me,” he says, ripping off the blindfold, and even with the darkness in the room you come with sparks flying through your eyes as your vision returns, his eyes flooding your sight as he looks into yours. he kisses you, holding your head close as he buries himself deep inside of you, emptying into you with a groan against your lips. you close your eyes, bursts of color dancing behind your lids. 

he slumps into you, both of you breathing hard as you come down. he strokes the side of your face, brushing away the hair that had sweat-matted against your temples from the blindfold. 

“was that okay?” he asks, the timidnes returning from days before, the thing he didn’t let you see when he was taking care of you. 

“god, felix,” you sigh, turning your body a bit so that you were laying side by side, facing each other. “that was amazing. i didn’t know i would like it that much. it was so overwhelming, but in a good way, you know?”

“yeah,” he smiles at you, warm and gooey and soft around the edges. he pulls you in for another kiss, sweet as candy, just like him.

—

kinktober masterlist

satoru hates seeing you cry, yet there’s also something beautiful about it. the fact that you’ve chosen to be vulnerable around him makes him feel protective over you. he wants to hold and cherish you until he can’t anymore.

“it’s fine, baby . . . let it out. ‘m right here,” he coos, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb on your right cheek. his lips catch a taste of the salty drops on the opposite side.

you’re gorgeous—always have been and will keep being—but you’re even more so when you’re holding onto him like your life depends on it. satoru’s hand rubs your back up and down, his other massaging your nape.

it may sound bad, but he’s secretly hoping that the moment continues forever. your pretty eyes sparkling with tears are a sight to behold, as well as your pouty lips. he wants to kiss your worries away and show you that he’ll love you no matter what.

“you’re going to be okay, mhm?” satoru mumbles as he places a kiss against your forehead. once he sees you nod and look up at him, a warm smile instantly forms on his glossy lips, “so fuckin’ pretty. keep lookin’ at me like that.”

of course, who or what ever made you cry will be held accountable one way or another, but your boyfriend doesn’t mind comforting you for a bit longer.

just to admire you.