Request: ‘Can You Please Write A Toji X (blk)fem Reader Smut But She Like One Of Those Earthy Girls
request: ‘Can you please write a Toji x (blk)fem reader smut but she like one of those earthy girls with all the waist chains/beads and he like obsessed with her style and all the jewelry she wears. boho/earthy girls don’t get enough love.’
i hear you anon and i see you so here you go <333
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: drug usage (weed), oral m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, slight pussyjob, toji likes her sm so a lot of praise, PUSSYDRUNK TOJI!!!, sex outdoors (no one can see them hehe), creampie, an ‘i like you’ confession bc i’ve been watching a lot of rom coms lately///not proofread sorry :(
‘it’s a lot of lust not a lot of love’
you hummed along to the song as you made out with toji, your tongue swirling against his. your bracelets jangled against your wrist as you tugged on his soft locs, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you did so. “slow down toji, s’no rush,” you mumbled against his lips, teeth biting down the tiniest bit on his bottom lip.
toji tried to distract himself by toying with your waist beads, but it just wasn’t working. between the two blunts you both shared, along with a couple sips of wine—courtesy of you, there was just no way you expected him to be in his right mind enough for him to go slow. “i don’t want to go slow though,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your ass over your skirt.
you kissed your teeth, now pulling away from the pouting man. you pushed him down against the blanket you had crocheted yourself, your hands now resting on his pecs. “you’re so impatient you know that? need my pussy that bad hm?” you giggled cocking your head to the side. toji gulped, his eyes finding it hard to stay locked on yours. eye contact with you was always so intense.
“yes….yes i am impatient and yes i need your pussy that bad.”
you smiled at his words, now leaning down to give him a slow kiss. you kissed your way down his jaw, to his neck, and finally down his chest. “damn….you got this worked up over a little kissing?” you teased, cupping toji over his jeans, earning a deep groan from him. toji didn’t respond, instead he just gave you the finger, too fucked out already to even come up with a proper comeback.
toji hissed when he felt you finally undo the button to his jeans, his leaking dick now free from its confinements. “go slow m’feelin’ a little sensitive,” toji grumbled and all you did was laugh, taking his throbbing dick in your hands. you gave the tip a soft squeeze, licking your lips. “now you wanna go slow? that’s funny,” you snickered, bringing his dick to your mouth, suckling the tip softly.
you ran your tip along the underside of his dick, fighting the urge to laugh again when you felt toji buck his hips up. toji wanted so badly to just push your head down, but you had just gotten your hair done a few days prior and he’d hate to cause you any discomfort. it was your first time getting passion twists and he was absolutely enamored with the way you looked with them.
“deeper—please go deeper y/n,” toji finally lifted his head up, now making eye contact with you but he reallyyyyy wishes he hadn’t. the way you were looking at him with those low, red eyes; eyelashes fluttering shut each time you took more of him in your mouth had him wanting to bust right then and there. toji felt his face flush, cheeks burning hot at the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever grace this earth—which in his opinion he wasn’t, far from it honestly.
toji’s eyes rolled back when he felt his dick hit the back of your right throat. “mmph fuck yeah—that’s that shit,” he groaned, bringing his hand to rest on the crown of your head. he didn’t grip it or apply any pressure, he just sat there and let you do what do best—suck the soul outta him.
the wind began to pick up, giving toji’s flaming cheeks a nice breeze to cool off. you made him so…so…beside himself. i mean for god sakes you had him fucking in the middle of a field of flowers, blazed out of his mind—it’s safe to say the grip you had on him was the most annoying shit ever.
“keep sucking me like that baby, f-fuck, take it deeper. be a good girl and take it deeper f’me,” you listened without protest, taking the last few inches of him in your mouth. toji was beyond fucked out, praises flying past his lips left n right and it only egged you on to turn him into even bigger pile of mush than he already was.
you pulled off of his dick with lewd pop! now paying attention to his swollen balls. toji’s body jerked, his heavy hand gripping onto your shoulder. “w—hah! w-wait y/n,” toji hissed, his jaw clenching impossibly tight. you lifted your head up, puffing air through your cheeks.
“i’m sorry i—”
“just shush toji.”
you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before crawling up toji’s body, your lower half hovering over his twitching dick. you pushed toji down gently by his shoulders, humming to yourself at just how damn good he looked beneath you.
“you’re fuckin’ unreal,” toji sounded damn near breathless as he said it, his chest puffing up with each deep breath. his hand reached up to tug down your olive green, cropped tube top; his rough hands immediately latching onto your breasts.
“you really mean that or you jus’ fucked up?” you knew he meant it with all his heart, you just wanted to hear him say it. you blindly reached for the end of your skirt, tugging the soft material up your thighs. just as you pressed your panty clad pussy against toji’s dick he whispered the three words ‘i mean it’ in your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe.
the words ‘i like you’ were sitting so heavy on his tongue but he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you how he felt.
toji—a grown ass thirty four year old man who’s literally served time in the slammer was scared to tell you, a twenty something year old woman who was the literal embodiment of a fawn how he felt about you. what a joke.
“what are you thinking about?” you spoke softly, running your thumb over the stubble on toji’s jaw. toji shook his head, bringing his rough hands to your petal soft love handles.
“s’nothin.”
“liar.”
“i said it’s nothing.”
your breath hitched, mouth dropping open slightly at the feeling of toji’s dick pressed against your bare pussy. he felt so hot and soft against you and toji could certainly say the same thing about you. with one harsh tug toji ripped your thong off, tossing the semi soaked material to the side. you rlly should’ve known better with that one—toji hates whenever things are in his way.
“you’re such a liar toji,” your laugh was breathless as you began to slowly grind your pussy against toji’s dick. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing in annoyance but mostly pleasure. he was already so close it was so fucking embarrassing. pre dripped from his throbbing tip and onto his clenching abs, creating an even bigger mess between the two of you.
toji bucked his up, puffing air through his cheeks to silently tell you he was more than ready for you. you gave him a small smile, your tooth gems glistening in the afternoon sun. “can i confess something toji?” you asked, lifting yourself up to balance your weight on your feet. you grabbed toji’s dick, swiping his tip between your folds before slowly inserting it.
you both gasped in unison, toji’s eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped his cock. “w-what do you need to confess you fu—hucking brat,” he growled, his fingernails digging in the soft flesh of your thighs. in one swift movement you sat all the down, toji’s balls now pressed snugly against your backside.
“i really, really like hanging out with you toji,” your voice was a little high pitched, rightfully so because you practically feel the trembling man below you in your stomach. you pressed your hands against toji’s chest, bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it.
you brushed a stray hair out of toji’s face, cradling his jaw in your palm that still smelled of the shea butter you applied before your outing. “you like hanging out with me too toji? you like me?” your tone was coming off a tad desperate but you could’ve cared less. toji’s adam’s apple bobbed, a pathetic whine bubbling in his throat.
“yes.”
“yes what?”
toji wrapped his arms around your waist, his feet planting into the ground before fucking up into you. “yes i fucking l-like you y/n, could you not—shit! fucking tell? jesus christ your pussy is so good,” toji couldn’t help the drool that slipped past his lips, it was impossible to keep his mouth shut at this point. your hands found themselves in toji’s hair, tugging roughly at the soft strands.
“i knew you did i just wanted to hear you say it. i like you too toji.”
i like you too toji.
toji halted his movements, his dick now in you to the hilt. you suddenly felt a warm sensation in your lower half and knew immediately that toji was in the process of cumming. you circled your hips as best as you could, milking him for all he was worth.
“hah f-fucking shit i can’t stop fucking cumminggg,” he groaned, burying his face in your sweet smelling neck; the scent of vanilla and caramel had him feeling more dizzy than he already was.
after giving toji a few minutes to catch his breath you sat up, his dick still sheathed inside of you. “look how messy,” you spread your lips, giving toji a mouthwatering view of your overly stuffed pussy. toji licked his lips, reaching over to down the rest of the wine that was in your abandoned glass.
“lemme clean you up.”
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Kaomojis
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© kaomoji
we all love sub gojo, needy gojo, whiny gojo. or maybe dom gojo whos talkative and mean, who’s silly and sadistic. sooo good.
but what about pissed gojo. angry, feral gojo, whos anything but talkative? so much rougher than usual, it’s like you ripped off the mask of humour he always puts on. jealous gojo, cold gojo, who’s quiet and mean and even more sadistic than he usually is.
i want him to be angry so bad!! i need him to break me sksjdjddj
cw degradation, spanking. wc 800+
"what, ya can't take a little pain?" satoru scoffs, one hand in your hair as he pushes the side of your face against the mattress. he's fucking you harder than normal — much harder — face down and ass up. "tch, shouldn't have been such a whore earlier today then. dumbass."
satoru's usually far from rough with you. sure, he's mean, but it always stems from his teasing nature. now, his meanness is turned up a notch, to the point where there's not even a trace of a smile on his sharp features as he pounds into you from behind.
"what the fuck made ya think i'd be fine with my girlfriend slutting herself out to other guys just 'cause we had a petty fight, huh?" satoru tsks, thumb pressing harshly into your jawline. his grip on your hair is just tight enough to make a point, not to cause real pain.
it's uncommon to see satoru this annoyed — normally he brushed off anything and everything with his usual smile, but tonight just pushed him over the edge. "gotta teach you a lesson, slut," he groans into your ear, sneering. his degrading words coupled with the background of the lewdest sounds imaginable make for an unforgettable scene.
"s-satoru," you whine, white dots peppering your vision as you fight to suppress the embarrassing moans that threaten to slip out of your mouth. "pleeease, i'm—"
satoru cuts you off with a swift slap to your ass, and it's hard enough to make you flinch. "shut up and take it."
tears prick at the corner of your eyes as satoru follows his statement with a particularly harsh thrust, causing you to cry out. "satoru, i'm sorry," you mewl, trying to turn your head to look up at him. his hand is still pressing your cheek deep into the mattress, but his grip relaxes ever so slightly at your words.
"sorry for what?" satoru leers, white hair falling into his eyes.
"e-everythi—" for the second time, satoru cuts you off, this time with another slap to your ass.
"not good enough," he cooes, grabbing a fistful of your hair again. "try again." you do, and when you say something about the stupid fight you and him had earlier, he scoffs and slaps your ass again. and again. and again, to the point where you can tell the skin's raw and sore from all the hits.
"it really isn't that hard, dumbass," satoru says while rolling his eyes. "last chance to prove you're more than just a dumb whore, otherwise i'm not gonna let you cum."
"i don't know," you whine after a moment, fingers clenching around the corners of the bedsheets as satoru's hand meets your ass again. a moan escapes your mouth as you feel the coil in your stomach get close to snapping, and fuck you can feel your eyes losing focus and your lips starting to tremble as you get closer, closer, closer until you feel the pressure in your chest start to unravel and—
satoru pulls out. a laugh bubbles out of his lips when he sees the heated expression on your face. you're panting, practically gasping for air as disappointment sinks into your chest. not only did satoru just edge the fuck out of you, but he even gave you the smallest taste of heaven before abandoning it.
"w-why'd you—"
satoru grabs your chin, manhandling your body into a position where his chest faces yours as he towers over you. the dim lighting of his bedroom accentuates his sharp features, drawing out their darker angles as he glares down at you. "i don't like when my fucking girlfriend grinds on other guys. i don't give a shit if we fought over something stupid or something serious, you're mine."
oh, he's pissed. sure, you might have gotten a little touchy with some other guys at the club after you stormed out of satoru's place, but shit, none of them could ever fuck you half as good as satoru could. and you tell him that — as satoru eyes you sternly, you paw at his scratch-covered chest and beg him to forgive you.
"i'm yours, satoru," you breathe, a tear slipping down the side of your cheek as you meet his eyes pleadingly. "i was just being petty, i swear."
"tch." is the only reply you get from satoru as he licks his lips. still desperate to finish your orgasm, you inch your hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy, only for your hand to be slapped away at the last moment.
"don't ever try and fucking replace me," satoru mutters, sliding two of his fingers into your folds. he relishes the way you clench around him, repeating his name over and over as you beg for him to let you cum.
"not yet," satoru scoffs, withdrawing his fingers and licking them clean. "still gotta punish a slut for actin' up, don't i?"
reblogs very appreciated
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
⋆·˚ ༘ *
˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
✧ : *✧･ﾟ:*
✧.*
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
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'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
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﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ
✧˚ · .
* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆
•·.·''·.·•
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
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PUSSY TALK! FT AOT MEN
STARRING - CONNIE, ONY, ARMIN, EREN
SYNOPSIS - just aot men, and times they wanna eat you
WARNINGS - very suggestive (duh), boys being downbad, cursing, gramar errors, reader is black and female.
CONNIE
peering over the edge of your phone screen to see a very tired looking connie, his shoulder sagging as he makes his way towards you slowly. you allow him to push your legs apart and slot himself between them, landing on your tummy and rubbing his face agains the material of your (his) shirt. naturally your hands come to scratch his head, which is freed from his usual beanie, smiling at the soft hum he lets out because of the action.
"hi papa." you say with a soft voice, continuing to scratch his head while you scroll through your tumblr feed. he shifts momentarily the pressure on your stomach gone as he gets up but before you can question him you stiffen, the feeling of lips pressed against your cunt has your phone almost landing in your face as you sit up on your elbow to look down at connie. He presses his lips against it once more before pulling away with an exagerated 'mwah' which has your body heating up, and your thighs closing as you look at him with wide eyes.
connie licks his lips, leaning towards you and caging you into his forearms, his nose brushes against yours as he leans in to peck your lips. "you so nasty." you whisper, scrunching up your nose at him playfully.
he gives you a panty-dropping smile, dimples showing and all. "she looked like she wanted a kiss though." rolling your eyes, your arms move to wrap around his neck pulling him towards you so that you can kiss him. moaning into the kiss connie leans back, lifting up your legs which makes you fall back with a squeak, he licks his lips again when his honey coloured eyes drifts down to your pussy and back to your eyes.
"m' so hungry, mama. lemme eat your pussy, please?"
ONY
you can feel his eyes on you as you talk to your homegirls, drilling into the side of your head and making you feel warm all over. yall only fucked once, and it's like this undeniable tension between the both you since then. shifting on your feet you turn your head to look at him, rubbing your glossed lips together because of how good he looked.
white dress shirt tucked into his slacks with a few of the top bottons opened, his gold chain flashing brightly and matching the grills on the bottom row of his teeth that looked so good with his jaw-dropping smile. he was so shameless, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was staring at you, not giving the person infront of him a glance as he talked to them, no, he would rather have his eyes on stuck on you.
clearing your throat you turned back towards your friends who all had raised eye-brows and a amused look on their face. "girl please do not tell me yall about to fuck at this wedding." one of them said, laughing loudly as you bit your lips with a smile and played with the wine glass in your hand. you shook your head as you brought the glass to your lips, "bye, it's not even like that."
the table suddenly went quiet, and everyone looked over your shoulder with shocked looks on their face they started giggling which caused your face to scrunch up in confusion. "what's funny?"
they shook their heads looking at each other as they sipped on their wine, one of them waving behind you with a smirk. "hey ony." your back straightened as you felt his warmth surround you his chest pressed against your back causing your homegirls to look at you with wide eyes and smiles, you tried to feign ignorance continuing to drink your wine with a blank face.
"hey, girls."you could hear the smile in his voice, and by the way your friends were reacting you knew he was. he leaned down so that his mouth was beside your ear his chain brushing against your bare back causing a shiver to run down your spine. his next words not helping your case either.
"tell your lil friends buh-bye so I can eat your pussy, and stop playing with me."
ARMIN
armin was fidgety. spacing out way too oftenwhen eren or anyone else was asking him questions. everyone was over your house for some party, and you decided to dress to impress. weain a cute little dress that fitted your figure perfectly, not to mention the colour compliemented your sun-kissed skin very well.
his eyes were constantly scanning over the room, looking for you watching the way your glossed plump lips widened as you laughed at something sasha said. feelings eyes on your, you looked over at your boyfriend smile widening when you see his gaze already on you.
you excuse yourself and walk over to him, sitting on his lap a warmth fluttering through you when you feeling his hands immediately find their way to your waist. a strand of blonde hair is twirled around your finger repeatedly as you look down at him, cheeks flushed with a pretty blush and ocean blue eyes glossed over, his pretty pink lips pushed out almost in a pout-like manner. "hi blonde."
he kisses his teeth at your nickname, squeezing your waist as he leans up to kiss your lips only for you to press a finger to his lips. shaking your head with a smug look on your face, armin's eyebrow raising as he looked at you. "nope. spent way too long putting this make-up on, your not about to ruin it."
it's cute, the way you think he needs permission to kiss you. the way you think he ould actually care to listen to your words.
armin leans back, pushing up his hips to the 'fix them' which pulls a gasp from your lips. his lips curl up, head tilting as he looks you up and down with a glint in his eyes. "so I can't eat your pussy?"
your eyes widen at his words, slapping his chest which causes him to snort, looking at you through his lashes with amusement. "why are you so vulgar?" you hiss out moving to get up off his lap only for him to hold you down, you rub your lips together staring at him, feeling your pussy pulse at the way he looks at you.
"m not being vulgar. one way or another im gonna eat that pretty pussy, even if it 'ruins' your make-up."
your make-up was ruined btw!
EREN
coming up behind you eren delivers a slap to yout ass, squeezing the flesh and snickering at the way you cuss him out under your breath. it becomes silent as he takes in your attire, your bottom attire to be specific, his hand linger on your ass while the other comes up to rub your waist.
"this new?" he pinches the material of your tights between his finger, eyes glued to your ass and how nice it looked in the material. you hum, not paying him much attention as you wash the plates.
"yeah, you like it? got it offa temu for - eren!" the water splashes as you jump, erens hand cupping your pussy pressing as his face holds a smug look.
"yeah, makes your pussy look fat. your ass too." his voice is raspy, he applies pressure unto your cunt with one of his finger, smirking at the moan you let out. a mouth is on your neck and you unintentionally lean back as eren fingers you through the material of your new tights, you'd be sure to cuss him out later for ruin it but for now you feel too good to say anything.
his chest vibrate as he hums, burrying his head in your shoulder. "you smell good." whimpering at his words, the pace of his finger sped up and your back arched into him pawing at his wrist as you felt yourself getting close.
eren suddenly removed his finger, spinning you around, teal eyes almost seeming dark as he looked down at you, his fingers squeeze at your waist as he swallows.
"lemme eat you out, pretty please?"
rkgk
real
grades are important
grades are importan
grades are importa
grades are import
grades are impor
grades are impo
grades are imp
grades are im
grades are i
grades are
grades ar
grades a
grades
grade
grad
gra
gr
g
go
goj
gojo
gojo s
gojo sa
gojo sat
gojo sato
gojo sator
gojo satoru
gojo satoru my love
REMEMBER ME IN SUMMER — SATORU GOJO
pairing — one night stand!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary — six months ago, you left satoru gojo's apartment before sunrise, thinking you'd never see him again. now, trapped in a beach house for a weekend with mutual friends, you're forced to face the man who doesn't seem to remember that night—or does he? between shared walls, heated touches, and games of pretend, you're starting to think maybe one night wasn't enough after all. but in a house full of friends, some things are better left in the past… right?
word count — 9.5 k
genre/tags — beach house AU, summer romance, one night stand to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, tension, awkward reunions, friends gathering, miscommunication, beach vibes, satoru is a little menace in this one
warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, all characters aged up (mid 20s), language
author's note — hi everyone ! this fic came out of nowhere, and i literally wrote it in three days, but i really love the idea and the summer vibes in this one, even tho i wrote it while it was literally snowing outside, but somewhere on earth it's summer rn, so why not post it lol. hope you enjoy this mess of a summer romance story as much as i enjoyed writing it ! <3 (credit/art)
masterlist + support my writing
The last person you expected to see in Okinawa was Satoru Gojo.
Yet there he was, lounging on the deck of the beach house like he belonged there, white hair catching the sunlight as he laughed at something someone had said. Your heart tumbled over itself as memories of that night six months ago flooded back unbidden.
"You okay?" Maki nudged you with her elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
More like the ghost of past bad decisions. "I'm fine," you managed, gripping your weekend bag tighter. "Wasn't expecting so many people."
The beach house was supposed to be a simple weekend getaway with close friends. But somewhere between planning and execution, it had turned into a "friends of friends" situation to fill the eight-bedroom house Okkotsu's family had offered.
"Yeah, Yuta's cousin's boyfriend invited some people to fill the space," Maki explained, completely unaware of your internal crisis. "That's Satoru over there, by the way. He's actually pretty fun once you get past the whole—" She gestured vaguely at all of him.
You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Because you were already very familiar with how "fun" Satoru Gojo could be.
Six months ago, you'd met him at a bar in Tokyo. He'd been charming and gorgeous, all easy smiles and playful banter. One drink had turned into several, flirting had turned into kissing, and kissing had turned into...
Well.
You'd slipped out of his apartment before dawn, leaving nothing but a lipstick stain on his collar and a dip in his pillow. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. You weren't looking for anything serious, and someone like him definitely wasn't the settling down type.
Now, watching him chat lively with your friends like the universe's cruelest joke, you wondered if you should have at least left your number.
"Girl," Maki waved her hand in front of your face. "You sure you're okay?"
Before you could answer, Satoru looked up. His eyes met yours across the deck, and for a moment, your heart stopped.
But there was no recognition in those sea blue eyes. No hint that he remembered the way you'd gasped his name in the dark, the way his hands had traced every inch of your skin, the way he'd whispered "stay" against your shoulder just before you'd fallen asleep.
He just smiled politely, the same smile he’s probably giving everyone else too, and went back to his conversation.
Right. Of course he didn't remember. You were probably just one in a long line of one-night stands for someone like him. The thought shouldn't hurt as much as it did.
"Come on," Maki said, tugging you towards the house. "Let's get settled in before the others arrive.”
Up close, the beach house was even more impressive. A sprawling three-story mansion of white stone and floor-to-ceiling windows that caught the afternoon light like rippling water, a wraparound veranda with a cozy sitting area led to a private path down to the beach, lined with swaying palms and colourful flowers.
Inside, the house opened into a huge room with soaring ceilings and an open floor plan that made the space feel endless. Ocean views followed you everywhere through the massive windows, and the whole place smelled of salt and lemon.
"The bedrooms are upstairs," Maki said as she led you up a floating staircase. "Most of them are on the second floor, but there are two master bedrooms on the third."
The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. Not only did you have to spend the weekend pretending you didn’t know how Satoru's brows draw together when he'd cum, but your room ended up right next to his—the two largest bedrooms on the top floor, sharing a wall and a connecting balcony. Of course.
Your room was bigger than your entire apartment in Tokyo, with a king-size bed draped in soft white linens. One wall was entirely glass, offering an unobstructed view of the ocean, while the other walls were decorated with pictures and minimalist art.
"My god, the view’s amazing!" Maki gushed and threw open the balcony doors. The sound of waves immediately filled the room, along with fresh, salty ocean air. "You can see the whole beach from here."
But you were too busy staring at the wall next to you, where a door that must lead to Satoru's room was hidden behind a cupboard. You could hear muffled movement from his room, the sound of his laugh drifting through the wall that suddenly felt far too thin and your mind helpfully supplied memories of other sounds he could make, and you wondered if it was too late to fake some sudden illness and go home.
"Yeah," you said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "Amazing."
Maki flopped down beside you, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress. "I know I've been here like five times already with Yuta, but it never gets old." She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on her hands. "Usually it's just us and his family, maybe a few cousins. This is the first time we're doing a friend group thing."
You tried to focus on her words instead of the sound of suitcases being wheeled into the room next door. "How long have you and Yuta been coming here?"
"Since we started dating three years ago. His family does this whole summer tradition thing." She smiled. "First time I came, I was so nervous I barely left the room. Now it feels like a second home." She sat up, crossing her legs. “And since his parents said we could use it this weekend, we thought why not invite friends.”
Through the wall, you could hear male voices chatting and laughing, followed by the sound of a door sliding open. Probably the balcony doors. Your shared balcony. Where he could walk past your windows at any time.
“You’re okay with this, right? Yuta’s friends are actually really fun once you get to know them. Especially Satoru, even tho he can be a pain in the ass.” Your stupid heart tumbled over itself once more at his name. "And single, if you're interested. I could—"
"No!" The word came out louder than intended, and you heard the conversation next door pause briefly. Lowering your voice, you added, "I mean, no thanks. Not really looking for anything right now."
Maki gave you a strange look. "You sure you're okay? You've been weird since we got here."
"Just tired from the drive," you lied and stood up. "Maybe I'll take a quick shower before everyone else arrives."
"Okay..." She didn't sound convinced but got up anyway. "I should go find Yuta anyway, make sure he's not letting Satoru destroy any of Yuta's mum's favourite vases."
You waited until she left before falling with your face first onto the bed with a groan. Perfect. Not only did you have to spend the weekend next door to your one night stand who might or might not remember you, but now your best friend was trying to set you up with him.
Through the wall, you heard Satoru laugh at something, the sound familiar enough to make your chest ache.
It was going to be a very long weekend.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
You'd barely finished unpacking when Yuji burst into your room without knocking. "Hey! We're setting up a net for beach volleyball. You in?"
"Ah, I don't really—"
"Everyone's playing!" He was already on his way back to the door. "Even Megumi, and you know how he is about fun."
Before you could form a proper excuse, Maki appeared behind him. "Come on, it'll be fun, the sun is out and it’s better than hiding up here all afternoon."
And that's how you found yourself trudging down to the beach, trying to convince yourself this was fine. Totally fine. Just a fun game of volleyball with friends. Nothing to worry about.
But then the boys started stripping off their shirts. It was like watching some ridiculous scene out of Top Gun as they all shed their shirt in the afternoon heat. But it was Satoru who made your brain go silent completely.
He pulled his shirt off, and suddenly you were having vivid flashbacks to exactly how that toned chest felt under your hands. The sun caught his hair like a halo, and when he stretched his arms over his head, the muscles in his back shifted in ways that should not make your knees so weak, but here you were, rooted to the spot, your pulse racing as if it had a mind of its own.
"You're staring," Maki whispered next to you.
"I'm not," you said, even though you definitely were. How could you not? It was like someone had taken every beach volleyball scene from every summer movie ever and combined them into one ridiculous moment.
Teams were forming, and with an uneven number, you volunteered to sit this round out. Not that you were particularly eager to participate in the first place. You were perfectly happy watching from the safety of your beach towel, where the risk of accidentally brushing against Satoru's unnecessarily perfect body was thankfully minimized.
The game started, and it quickly became clear that everyone was taking it way too seriously, as Satoru and Yuji seemed to be in some sort of competition to see who could spike the ball more impressively.
"Show off," you muttered to yourself as Satoru delivered a rather dramatic jump serve, the ball landing dangerously close to your foot. But he must have heard you, because he caught your eye with a wink that made your stomach flutter. "Like what you see?"
"I've seen better," you said before you could stop yourself.
His eyebrows shot up and a slow smile spread across his face. "Have you now?"
Oh god. Were you flirting? This was definitely flirting. You needed to stop staring at the way sweat was making his skin glisten and focus on... literally anything else.
"Pay attention!" Nobara yelled, and Satoru barely managed to dodge the ball she'd spiked directly at his head.
The game continued, growing more competitive with each round. You had to admit, it was entertaining watching your friends become more and more dramatic with each point. One of Yuta’s cousins and Yuji had some sort of rivalry going on, while Maki and Nobara were trash-talking each other.
But it was Satoru who kept drawing your attention. The way he moved was almost unfair and you found yourself following the drops of sweat as they made their way down his neck, remembering how that skin had tasted under your tongue.
"Incoming!"
You looked up just in time to see the volleyball heading straight for your face. Before you could react, Satoru dove in front of you and caught the ball just inches from your nose. The movement sent him sprawling across your legs, his face entirely too close to yours.
You blinked at him for a few moments, then whispered, "Thank you.” But the words came out too soft, almost like they had that night in Tokyo when he'd helped you into a taxi and then convinced you not to take it and instead come home with him.
Time seemed to slow, the crashing waves and voices of the others fading into white noise as Satoru's eyes met yours. For a moment, something flickered in those blue depths—a flash of recognition, perhaps even remembrance.
His breath caught, barely noticeable, and his hand on your leg tightened ever so slightly. You watched his eyes, saw the exact moment his gaze dropped to your lips, and suddenly you were back in that Tokyo bar, both of you caught in that same magnetic pull.
"You're welcome," he said, his voice so low that only you could hear it. There was something in his tone, a hint of question, like he was trying to place a hazy dream. His thumb brushed against your skin, possibly by accident, possibly not, sending shivers up your spine.
The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring, thick with shared memories—memories you weren't even sure he had. Then someone yelled "Dinner!" from the direction of the house, and the spell broke.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The sun was setting by the time everyone had showered and gathered around the huge dining table on the deck. Fairy lights twinkled overhead and the sound of the waves could be heard in the background as the chaos of fifteen people trying to organize a meal unfolded.
You'd taken extra care getting ready, telling yourself it was just because of the salt and sand, not because of the way Satoru had looked at you on the beach. You'd chosen a light summer dress that happened to be the exact shade of blue as his eyes—pure coincidence, of course—and had let your hair dry naturally in the sea breeze.
Yuta ended up ordering way too much from the local seafood restaurant, you concluded as you surveyed the spread of food on the table.
You ended up squeezed between Maki and Megumi, which should have been a relief. Instead, you found yourself very aware of Satoru sitting directly across from you, his hair still slightly damp from his shower, wearing a loose white linen shirt that he should really button up and stop teasing the entire table with glimpses of his toned chest.
"Pass the crab?" he asked, and when you handed him the plate, your fingers brushed. The contact sent a shiver through you, and you could have sworn you saw his breath catch. But then he was turning to laugh at something Yuji said, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.
"—and then he just fell face first right into the sand!" Yuji was saying, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. "You should have seen it!"
"We were all there, literally two hours ago," Megumi deadpanned.
"The game was rigged anyway," Nobara said, reaching for another plate of grilled shrimp. "You can't put Mr. Perfect over here on a team and expect it to be fair." She jerked her thumb in Satoru's direction.
"What can you do?" Satoru said, his eyebrows knitted together, but a grin played on his lips. "I just happen to be naturally gifted." And then his eyes caught yours once more across the table.
Heat crept up the back of your neck as you remembered how he'd felt when he'd sprawled across your legs, his skin sun warm and slightly sandy. How his touch had lingered just a fraction too long to be casual.
Something had changed in his expression, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it. But you'd spent hours that night memorizing his faces. His smirk when he had you right on the edge, his soft smile when you were trembling beneath him, the way his eyes darkened just before he—
Maki snorted. "Yeah, sure." And you looked over at her, breaking the eye contact before you could do something stupid like climb across the table and find out if he tasted as good as you remembered.
When the dinner was over, Nobara suggested to play drinking games, truth or dare to be specific, to which "What are we, fifteen?" Megumi commented but Maki already chimed in with "Never have I ever" and so it was decided.
Your stomach dropped. The last thing you needed was a drinking game where people confessed their secrets. Especially with the way Satoru kept looking at you, like he was one memory away from connecting dots you really didn't want connected.
"I think I'll pass," you said, pushing your plate away. "The sun really did take it out of me."
You gathered your plates and the sound of the others setting up their drinking game followed you into the kitchen—Yuji's voice carrying over everyone else's as he argued about rules, Nobara shouting something about "no questions about exes," and Megumi's long drawn out sighs.
A salty ocean breeze swept into the kitchen through the open wall of windows overlooking the water as you rinsed your plate. "You know," a voice came from behind you, making you jump, "I was starting to think you hate me."
Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Satoru—would recognize that voice anywhere, had spent months trying to forget how it sounded when it was rough after he’d cum. But you turned anyway, finding him leaning against the doorframe and the kitchen suddenly felt so much smaller.
"What?" The word came out embarrassingly breathless.
"Let me rephrase, for someone who doesn't hate me, you're doing an impressive job of avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you.” You turned back to the sink. "I'm doing dishes."
"Sure. The dishes." His voice got closer, and you could feel the heat of him just behind you. "Though I have to wonder why someone would work so hard to avoid someone they've never met before."
Your hands stilled under the running water. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You've barely looked at me all day." He was close enough now that you could smell his perfume that had lingered on your clothes for days after that night. "Want to tell me what I did to deserve the cold shoulder? Because usually, I at least remember if I've pissed someone off."
Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it, but at the same time the irony of his words made you want to laugh. "You haven't done anything," you said, which was technically true. He hadn't done anything wrong. Except maybe be too good in bed and then forget about it entirely.
"No?" His voice dropped lower, and you could feel his breath on your neck. "Then why—" He cut himself off. "Wait. Have we met before?"
You spun around, hands dripping water onto the floor. The motion brought you chest to chest with him, trapped between his body and the counter. "No," you said, too quickly, way too quickly. "Definitely not."
"You sure about that? Because you seem familiar—"
"Must just have one of those faces."
He moved closer still, one hand braced on the counter beside your hip, effectively caging you in. "Is that so? Because I’m sure I’d remember a pretty one like yours." You felt your breath catch in your throat, every nerve in your body screaming. He was going to kiss you, wasn't he? You should probably do something. Like move. Or breathe.
But then he simply stepped back, his smile widening. "Sorry. Must have mistaken you for someone else,” he said and the loss of his warmth felt like whiplash, leaving you cold despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air. You watched him retreat towards the door, casual as anything, like he hadn't just turned your world sideways.
Through the open door, laughter spilled in from the deck, breaking the spell that had held you captive. Satoru paused in the doorway for a moment, silhouetted against the warm light from outside, before disappearing back into the noise of your friends.
You stayed at the sink, trying to convince yourself that the heat in your cheeks was just from the summer air and ignoring the way your heart refused to settle in your chest. What had just happened? You had no idea. But one thing was painfully certain.
This weekend was going to be a long one.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Next morning, you decided to get up early and have your coffee on the beach before anyone else was awake. Sleep had been hard to come by anyway, with too many thoughts of certain one night stands keeping your mind racing.
Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, painting the sky in orange and gold watercolours and the ocean stretched out before you, quiet and calm, each small wave catching the early light like diamonds.
You'd wrapped yourself in an oversized cardigan against the morning chill, bare feet buried in sand that was still cool from the night before. And of course, because the universe hated you, that's when Satoru appeared.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, settling into the sand beside you without invitation.
You clutched your coffee mug tighter. "Something like that."
"Yeah, me neither." He stretched his long legs out in front of him, and you definitely didn't notice how his shorts rode up slightly, definitely weren't thinking about how those thighs had felt under your hands. "Keep having these weird dreams."
"Oh?"
"Mmm." As he turned to look at you, the rising sun painted his profile gold, catching his eyelashes. There was something different about him in this light — softer somehow, more like the man who'd asked you to stay than the one who'd cornered you in the kitchen last night. "About a girl in a black dress. Red lipstick. The most amazing laugh I've ever heard."
Your heart stopped.
"Funny thing is," he continued casually, "I can never quite see her face in the dreams. But I remember how she tasted. How she felt pinned beneath me. How she clenching around my fingers. How she said my name when she—"
"Stop," you whispered.
"Why?" His voice was softer now. "Because you don't want to talk about that night? Or because you thought I wouldn't remember?"
You stared at the ocean, unable to meet his gaze. "You didn't seem to yesterday."
"Don’t be stupid. I recognized you the moment you walked into the beach house."
Your coffee nearly slipped from your hands. "What?"
"Did you really think I wouldn't remember the girl who stole my favourite shirt on her way out the door?"
Heat flooded your cheeks, you totally forgotten about the shirt. "Then yesterday, in the kitchen—"
"I wanted to see how long you'd keep pretending." He smiled, the bastard had the audacity to smile at you when he revealed that he was playing you the whole time. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?”
"You're mocking me."
"Mocking you?" His eyebrows rose. Then he leaned closer to you, but you still refused to look at him. "I spent six months trying to find the girl with the kind of laugh that makes you feel drunk just hearing it, who left before I could ask for her number—"
"It was just one night," you interrupted.
"Was it? Because I distinctly remember asking you to stay."
"I couldn't."
"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?"
You finally met his gaze fully, and immediately wished you hadn't. Because he was looking at you the same way he had that night. He was enjoying this, wasn't he? Playing with you, teasing you, making you feel like a flustered schoolgirl.
"Does it matter?" you asked.
"You're really a bit slow, aren't you?"
You wanted to protest, to tell him exactly what you thought of his arrogant everything, but then Maki's voice carried across the beach, "Breakfast! Come and get it before Yuji eats everything!"
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The breakfast table was just as chaotic as the dinner the night before. Fifteen people crammed around the table had that effect, especially with Yuji already piling his plate high with pancakes while Nobara complained about him taking too many.
You'd barely settled into an empty chair when Satoru slid into the seat next to you, as if he hadn't just admitted that he'd been playing jokes on you the whole day before.
"Can you pass me the syrup?" he asked innocently, but there was nothing innocent about the way his thigh pressed against yours under the table.
You handed him the bottle without looking at him, trying to focus on pouring your coffee without spilling it everywhere. Which was made all the more difficult when his hand found your knee under the table.
"So what's everyone's plans for today?" Maki asked, passing around a plate of fresh fruit.
You tried to concentrate on the conversation, you really did. But Satoru's hand was inching higher up your thigh, and your brain was shorted out. You kicked him under the table, aiming for his shin.
He didn't even flinch, just smiled wider and continued whatever conversation he was having with Megumi about later activities, all while his fingers danced along the hem of your shorts. You felt a sudden surge of heat, definitely not from the summer sun.
"You okay?" Nobara asked suddenly. "You look a bit flushed."
"Fine!" Your voice came out higher than intended as Satoru's fingers skimmed just slightly under the edge of your shorts. "Just... hot."
"It is pretty warm this morning," Satoru agreed, his tone perfectly pleasant even as his thumb pressed into that sensitive spot on your inner thigh that he somehow remembered. The bastard. You kicked him again, harder this time.
"Did someone just kick the table?" Maki looked around suspiciously.
"Must have been the wind," you said stupidly.
You grabbed his wrist under the table, intending to push his hand away, but he just interlaced his fingers with yours and kept them there on your thigh. It was like he was asserting dominance, staking his claim, and you were suddenly trapped.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked through a mouthful of pancakes. "You're acting weird."
"Totally fine," you managed. "Just didn't sleep well."
"Hmm, me neither," Satoru chimed in, his voice all false innocence. "Must be all these weird dreams I keep having." You dug your nails into his hand in warning, but he just squeezed your hand in response, his grip tightening.
"Dreams?" Nobara asked.
"Oh, you know," Satoru began thoughtfully, "the kind that keep you up all night, thinking about... things that got away."
You were going to murder him. Slowly. Possibly with the butter knife you were currently gripping way too tight.
"That's... weirdly poetic for you," Maki said, raising an eyebrow.
"You wouldn't want to know,” he replied, and you felt his fingers inch just slightly higher once more, making you jump and bang your knee on the table.
"Jesus, what is wrong with you two this morning?" Nobara asked, looking between you and Satoru.
Under the table, you finally managed to grab his hand in yours and hold it still. But that backfired when he started playing with your fingers instead, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that made you gasp. You definitely wanted to kill him. Right after you figured out how to breathe normally again.
"So, beach day? I wanna go snorkelling," Yuji said, thankfully drawing attention away from whatever was going on under the table, and everyone agreed. JJust then, Satoru freed his hand from yours and placed it back on your knee before trailing it up your thigh.
Okay, nope this had to end now.
"I need more coffee," you announced abruptly, standing up so fast your chair scraped against the deck.
"I'll help," Satoru offered, already rising.
"No!" The word came out too sharp, making everyone look at you strangely. "I mean, I'm good. Thanks."
You practically fled into the kitchen, your skin still tingling where he'd touched you. Through the window, you could see him chatting with the others, looking completely unaffected while you were here trying to remember how to make your heart beat normally.
When is this weekend going to end?
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
"You sure you're okay?" Maki asked, swimming up beside you. "You've been weird all morning. Is the sun too much?"
"I'm fine," you said for what felt like the hundredth time today. "I’m not used to be around so many people."
The water was crystal clear, stretching out in various shades of blue that seemed to go on forever. Everyone had eagerly jumped into snorkeling, with Yuji and Nobara already in a heated competition about who could spot the most fish.
You adjusted your mask for the tenth time, trying to focus on anything except how good Satoru looked in just swim shorts. He was a few meters away, the sunlight catching the droplets of water that clung to his ridiculously toned shoulders.
My God. You needed distance. You needed space to breathe, to think, to do anything other than stare at him.
"If you say so." Maki didn't look convinced. "But tell me if something’s bothering you, okay?"
If only she knew. "Sure."
"Guys, come look at this!" Yuji called from where he was floating near some corals. "Rainbow fish!"
Everyone swam over to where he was pointing, and you had to admit, the sight was beautiful. Countless colourful fish swam through the coral, creating a vibrant palette under the water.
You followed the fish as a sudden pressure against your calf made you flinch. Satoru. He had brushed against your leg. It could have been an accident, a mere consequence of the crowded water, but somehow, it felt like anything but. You knew better. Nothing about Satoru was ever accidental.
You drifted slightly away from the group, desperately needing to put some distance between yourself and Satoru. The vibrant corals blurred into streaks of colour as you swam further from the group, the shouts of Yuji and Nobara fading.
The water a bit away from them was deeper, a darker shade of blue. As you peered down, you noticed the sandy ground was dotted with small stones, and a different kind of life seemed to thrive here. Sea anemones swayed gently in the current, and schools of silver fish, smaller than the ones near the reef, darted in and out of the anemones.
You floated on your back for a moment, gazing up at the sky, a vast expanse of pale blue flecked with fluffy white clouds as the sun warmed your face. It was so peaceful, and you were happy for the small pause amidst the chaos of the house.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
You startled at Satoru's voice right behind you, nearly inhaling water through your snorkel. He'd somehow managed to swim up without you noticing, and now he was close enough that his arm brushed yours in the water.
"What are you doing?" you hissed, pulling your snorkel out.
"I know a better spot.” He nodded towards a more secluded area around the curve of the beach. "If you're interested."
You glanced back at the others, but they were all absorbed in whatever Yuji had found. "I don't think—"
"Come on," he said, already swimming away. "Don't you trust me?"
"Not even a little bit." But found yourself following him anyway.
He led you around a small outcropping of rocks, the current tugging gently at your fins, to a quieter part of the reef. His hand on your arm gently guided you through the water. The water here was somehow even clearer, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a breathtaking underwater scenery with colourful coral formations that created a labyrinth of archways and caverns with small fish swimming in between.
"How did you—"
"I came here earlier this morning," he said, treading water close to you. "While you were pretending to ignore me after breakfast."
"I wasn't—" You cut yourself off as he dove under the surface, the sunlight playing across his back as he swam deeper.
You followed him down, your breath taken away by the sight. This part of the reef was like something out of a documentary. Swarms of tropical fish swirled around you in ribbons of colour, and the coral itself seemed to shine in the filtered sunlight.
When you surfaced, Satoru was watching you with an annoyingly knowing smile. "Worth following me?"
"It's alright," you said, trying to sound unimpressed even though you were anything but.
He laughed. "You're still trying to play hard to get?"
"I'm not playing anything."
"No?" He swam closer, close enough that you could see droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. "Then why did you follow me here?"
"To see the fish.”
"The fish." His voice was amused. "Sure. That's why you've been watching me all morning?"
"I have not—"
"You know," he cut you off, moving even closer, his body brushing against yours in the water. "You're pretty when you get all flustered. Just like that night in Tokyo. Same flush you had when I made you cum three times.”
Ha? Had he been keeping count or what? You frantically tried to replay that night in your head — there was the first time against his apartment door, then on the kitchen counter, and... oh god, he was right. The bastard had been counting. The smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what you were thinking about.
You splashed water at him. "We are not talking about Tokyo."
He wiped water from his face, grinning. "No? Should we talk about this morning instead? About how you nearly jumped out of your skin when I touched your—"
You dunked him mid-sentence.
He came up spluttering, pushing wet hair from his eyes. "Okay, I probably deserved that."
"You definitely deserved that."
But he laughed, and despite yourself, you found yourself laughing too. There was something infectious about him, something that made it hard to keep your walls up, dissolving your defenses with unnerving ease, like mist beneath the morning sun.
"We should head back," you said finally. "Before they come looking for us."
"Probably," he agreed, but made no move to leave. Instead, he floated closer, until his chest pressed against yours. "Or we could stay here a bit longer. I could remind you of all the other ways I can make you wet."
Heat flooded your body. "Satoru..."
"Yes?" His hands found your waist under the water, pulling you flush against him. One thigh slipped between yours, and you had to bite back a gasp at the friction. "You know, I still remember exactly how you sound when you're trying not to moan my name."
"We can't." But your body betrayed you, arching into his touch as his fingers skimmed along your ribs, dangerously close to your breast.
"Can't?" His lips ghosted over your lips, his thumb tracing circles on your hip under the water in a way that made you think of how those fingers had felt inside you. "Or are you afraid you won't be able to keep quiet this time?"
Before you could answer, Nobara's voice carried across the water. "Where did you guys go?"
You pushed away from him quickly, already swimming back towards the group. "Coming!"
"This isn't over," he called after you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
"It never started!" you shot back, but you were smiling too.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Satoru spent the rest of the afternoon driving you absolutely insane.
After snorkeling, he'd positioned his beach towel suspiciously close to yours, spending an unnecessary amount of time applying sunscreen to his chest and arms. His movements were deliberately slow, borderline pornographic, fingers sliding over muscle in a way that had you remembering exactly how those muscles had felt flexing under your tongue.
You knew without a doubt he was putting on a show for you—every movement a reminder of how those arms had looked braced above you as he'd fucked you against his apartment door, how they'd felt pinning your wrists to his sheets.
During lunch, he'd somehow ended up next to you again, his bare thigh pressed hot against yours under the table like this morning had taught him nothing. Except this time, his hand didn't just rest on your knee. It spent the entire meal tracing patterns up your thigh, fingertips dancing dangerous close to where you'd been aching for him.
Your breath caught every time his hand "accidentally" slipped under the hem of your shorts, remembering how those fingers had curled inside you, how they'd made you beg.
The afternoon beach volleyball rematch was even worse. He kept finding excuses to touch you—steadying you with a hand on your waist when you stumbled in the sand (the same way he'd gripped your hips while taking you from behind), reaching around you to grab the ball (his breath hot on your neck like when he'd whispered how good you felt around him), his chest pressing against your back, closer than needed (making you remember how it felt to be pressed between him and that apartment door).
But dinner? Dinner was pure torture.
He'd shown up freshly showered, hair still damp and tousled in that way that made your fingers itch to grab it (like you had when he was between your thighs), wearing a dark blue linen shirt that he hadn't bothered to button properly once more and spent the entire meal finding new ways to make you squirm.
He'd catch your eye across the table and slowly lick sauce off his thumb, making you remember exactly how that tongue had felt when he'd spread you open. When passing dishes, his fingers would brush against yours unnecessarily long, making you shiver. At one point, he'd stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal his lower abs that had you gripping your fork so hard your knuckles turned white.
He knew exactly what he was doing, too—you could tell by the smug look on his face throughout the whole dinner.
Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. They were all too busy with their own conversations, completely oblivious to the way he was systematically dismantling your sanity with nothing more than glances and touches.
Every time you thought you'd gotten yourself under control, he'd do something else — run his fingers through his hair the same way he had when you'd been on your knees in front of him, or bite his lip in a way that had you crossing your legs under the table. By dessert, you were a mess of sexual frustration and murderous impulses.
He was enjoying this, the bastard. Testing your control, seeing how far he could push before you broke. And the most infuriating part?
It was working.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
After dinner, everyone wandered into the living room in various states of food induced laziness. You'd barely managed to claim a corner of the big couch when Nobara disappeared into the kitchen, returning with an armful of wine bottles and a certain look in her eye that spelled trouble.
"No one move," she announced, setting the bottles on the coffee table. "I have an idea."
"Your ideas usually end with someone crying," Megumi commented from his spot on the floor.
"Or arrested," Maki added helpfully.
"Or both," you muttered, trying to ignore how Satoru had somehow appeared in the armchair closest to your corner of the couch. He'd rolled up his sleeves during dinner, forearms on full display, and you were having a hard time not staring at his fingers. Fingers that you knew from experience felt so good in your mouth to keep you from—
"Never have I ever!" Nobara's voice cut through your dangerous train of thought. A collective groan rose from the group.
"Not again," Megumi said, already trying to get up.
"Sit your ass down," Nobara commanded, pushing him back down. "We're bonding."
"We bonded plenty last night," you Yuta tried, but Nobara was having none of it and before you knew it, everyone agreed.
"Okay, I'll start easy," Yuji said, clearly excited despite his earlier protests. "Never have I ever cheated on a test."
Several people drank, including Satoru—and you, okay let’s be real.
The questions started innocent enough. Never have I ever broken a bone. Never have I ever been arrested. Never have I ever dyed my hair. But as the wine flowed, the questions got progressively more suggestive.
"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same gender," Maki said, and half the circle drank. "Never have I ever faked it," was Nobara's contribution, and several people groaned but drank.
You were starting to feel a bit hazy, the wine making everything feel warm and soft around the edges. Which was dangerous, because Satoru kept looking at you like he was remembering exactly how you'd sounded that night when you definitely hadn't been faking anything.
"Never have I ever," one of Yuta’s cousins announced then, "had sex with someone in this room." For a moment, no one moved. Then Yuta and Maki drank, of course. And then Satoru raised his own glass slowly and took a long sip.
"Who?" Nobara shrieked, looking around the circle. "Satoru just drank, so someone else here has to—" Her gaze swept over everyone suspiciously.
"Someone's lying," Maki sang, already tipsy enough to find this hilarious. "Come on, fess up!"
You kept your face carefully neutral, even as you felt Satoru's eyes burning into you. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not this time.
"Maybe it was before any of us knew each other," Yuji suggested, but Nobara shook her head.
"No way. Look at his face!" She pointed accusingly at Satoru. "He's got that look. You know, that 'I know something you don't know' look."
Satoru just smiled lazily from his armchair, swirling the wine in his glass. "Maybe I just like keeping you all guessing."
"You're a dumbass," Nobara said, but the group's attention was already shifting as Yuji launched into the next question, something about falling asleep at work.
You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, but made the mistake of glancing at Satoru and he gave you a look that sent a shiver of heat through you over his wine glass.
God, you were going to murder him. Slowly. Painfully. Preferably with the very wine glass he was currently smirking into.
Who did he think he was, just casually drinking like that, nearly exposing everything? He could have at least warned you, given you some sign he was about to blow up your secret. But no, he'd just taken that deliberate sip, probably getting hard on watching you squirm as you tried to keep your poker face.
That sick bastard.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Sleep was impossible. You'd been tossing and turning for hours, replaying the day's events in your mind—from that moment in the ocean to his deliberate almost-reveal during the game. The walls of this fancy beach house seemed paper thin at night, every small sound amplified in the darkness.
That's how you heard his door open around 2 AM, followed by quiet footsteps heading downstairs.
You waited a few minutes, telling yourself you were just thirsty, that going downstairs for water had nothing to do with knowing he was maybe down there. The wooden steps creaked softly under your bare feet as you made your way down.
Silvery moonlight streamed through the massive windows, creating silver patterns on the marble countertops of the kitchen. Satoru stood at the island, drinking water from a glass, looking unfairly handsome in just sleep shorts and a wrinkled t-shirt.
"Couldn't sleep?" he whispered when he spotted you.
"What's your game, Satoru?" You kept your voice equally low, padding closer. "That thing earlier? During never have I ever?"
"Game? I'm not the one who was afraid of drinking".
"Because unlike you, I don't feel the need to announce our business to everyone."
He set his glass down, turning to face you fully. "Our business? So you admit there's something to announce?"
"That's not—" You caught yourself before your voice could rise. "What are you trying to achieve here? With all the—" you gestured vaguely, "touching and teasing and almost exposing everything?"
He stepped closer, and suddenly the kitchen felt way too small, even though it was like three times the size of your Tokyo apartment. "Maybe I just want everyone to know that night wasn't as casual for me as you seem to think it was."
You felt the weight of his words settle in the quiet kitchen, heavy with meaning you weren't prepared to unpack while moonlight caught his features in a way that made him look softer, almost vulnerable.
"What are you talking about? It was only one night."
"Was it?" He moved closer, until you had to tilt your head back to keep eye contact. "Because I remember asking you to stay. I remember waking up to an empty bed and spent the next six months thinking about why you left."
"I... you were just saying that in the moment. People say lots of things in the moment."
"Do they?" His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Is that why you ran? Because you thought I didn't mean it?"
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore how your skin prickled where he'd touched you. "Satoru..."
"You know what I think?" His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper in the quiet kitchen. "I think you're scared. Not of me, but of the fact that you wanted to stay too."
"That's not—" But the words died in your throat as his thumb traced your jawline.
"Then why are you down here?" He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. "If it was just one night, just something casual, why did you follow me down here in the middle of the night?"
The counter pressed against your back—when had you started backing up?—and Satoru's arms came to rest on either side of you, caging you in. Position achingly familiar, reminding you of how this all started six months ago.
"I was thirsty," you said. You did not even believe yourself as you said it.
His laugh was barely a breath against your skin. "Liar."
And then his mouth was on yours, and god, you'd forgotten how good he was at this. His lips were soft but demanding, one hand sliding into your hair while the other gripped your hip, forcing you close against him. You gasped into the kiss, and he took the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue against yours in a way that made you forget your own name.
It was different from that first night—less urgent, but somehow more intense. He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, like he was laying claim to every moment you'd denied him these past six months. His teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite back a whimper, too aware of the sleeping house above.
"Still want to pretend this is nothing?" he whispered against your mouth, and you could feel his smile when your only response was to pull him back down for another kiss.
His hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as his mouth moved to your neck, kissing your throat just the way you like it, just the way he somehow remembered.
"Someone could come down," you breathed, even as your fingers tangled in his hair.
"Then I guess you'll have to be quiet." His teeth grazed your skin, making you shiver. "Think you can manage that? Because I distinctly remember you being quite vocal last time."
You tightened your grip on his hair in return, but that just made him groan softly against your throat. "You're stupid."
"Mm, that's not what you said in Tokyo." His hands slid higher under your shirt, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. "In fact, I remember you saying some very different things—"
You cut him off with another kiss, partly to shut him up and partly because you needed his mouth on yours like you needed air. His fingers teased along your ribs, your back, your thighs, touching you everywhere except where you desperately wanted him to.
But then his fingers found the edge of your underwear, and you had to bite his shoulder to keep from moaning as he slid his fingers inside you, making you cum all over his fingers in seconds—just like that night in Tokyo.
You were done, dizzy, breathless, clinging to him as he stripped your shorts and underwear down your legs. He pushed one leg up your chest as he lowered you back down onto the marble kitchen counter, your other leg still wrapped around his waist. His forehead pressed against yours as he thrust inside, hard, slow, perfect angle—just like that night in Tokyo.
He tossed you around, manhandled you, fucked you against the fridge, threw you onto the couch and fucked you there too. He whispered your name, his voice husky against your ear, every letter a caress, even as he picked up pace, even as his hand closed around your throat, even as you bit into the pillow below to muffle your screams as he made you cum again. Multiple times. In various positions. Using his own cum as a lube for the next round—just like that night in Tokyo.
Afterwards you laid outside on the veranda in a big chair you both shared, gazing up at the stars scattered across the deep velvet sky, countless and impossibly bright. A second later his lips found yours and another second later you were on top of him, underwear pushed to the side and your head thrown back as he watched you chase your release on his dick—just like that night in Tokyo.
And his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he ate you out on the stairs just before you wanted to go back to bed, but he wouldn't let you, making you cum again before he carried you off to the laundry room to fuck you one last time for sure good mesure—just like that night in Tokyo.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Morning came way too early, sunlight streaming through windows you'd forgotten to close. Every muscle in your body ached in the most pleasant way, reminding you of exactly how many surfaces you and Satoru had christened last night.
Yeah. You were definitely going to be feeling this for days. You winced slightly as you sat up — apparently kitchen counters weren't the most ergonomic choice for certain activities, or the stairs, or the laundry room, or... Okay, we get it.
When you finally made it downstairs, moving perhaps a bit more strangely than usual, Satoru was already at the breakfast table. Because of course he was, looking absolutely perfect and fullyfull rested in a fresh shirt, casually sipping his coffee like he hadn't spent half the night making you bite down on your fist to keep quiet.
"Well, someone looks rough," Nobara commented as you lowered yourself carefully into a chair. "Too much wine last night?"
You caught Satoru hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup. The bastard didn't even have the decency to look tired.
"Something like that," you muttered, reaching for the coffee pot and trying not to wince at the stretch. Your thighs burned in protest of the movement, and you could swear you saw Satoru's smile widening at your slight grimace.
"Must have been some wine," Nobara said, eyeing you suspiciously. "I don't remember you drinking that much during the game."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked, looking concerned. "You're walking kind of funny."
"I'm fine, really," you managed. "Too much wine, that’s all."
Maki, who sat next to you, leaned in closer. "Your 'too much wine' is showing," she whispered, pointing to your collarbone. Your hand flew to your neck, suddenly remembering all the attention Satoru had paid to that area—especially that moment on the stairs when you'd begged him to finish what he'd started before anyone heard them, while he sucked a very dark bruise right above your collarbone.
You quickly buttoned up your cotton shirt higher, but from Nobara's growing grin, it was too late. But thankfully, no one commented on it.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The rest of Sunday passed in a lazy haze, with everyone moving a bit slower thanks to varying degrees of wine headaches. Most of the day was spent sprawled out on beach chairs, hiding behind sunglasses and drinking coconut water that Yuta swore would help with hangovers (but, in fact, did not).
You dozed on and off under an umbrella, trying not to think about how your body still ached in several places from the night before, and enjoyed your last day in Okinawa before you'd return to work on Monday.
When evening rolled around and it was time to pack up, the house became a chaos of suitcases and forgotten phone chargers once more. You were struggling with your bag next to your car, trying to figure out the best angle to lift it into the trunk without stressing your still sore muscles, when Satoru suddenly appeared and took it from your hands without a word.
"I can manage," you protested, but he was already lifting it into your trunk with an effortless ease that really shouldn't be as attractive as it was.
"I'm sure you can," he said, closing your trunk with a soft thud. "But maybe I just want an excuse to do this."
Before you could ask what 'this' was, he pressed a small folded piece of paper into your palm. You opened it to find a phone number written in his surprisingly neat handwriting.
"Since you didn't stay for it last time," he said softly.
"What makes you think I'll use it?"
"Because this time, you want to stay just as much as I want you to." He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only you could hear. "Besides, I believe we still have a few surfaces in my apartment left to explore."
You shoved his shoulder. "Stop."
He caught your hand before you could push him again. "Use it. Please?" His voice held a note of softness, an unexpected tenderness that made your heart ache with a strange longing. You nodded, tucking the paper safely into your back pocket.
"Still not announcing anything to everyone tho," you warned as Maki called out that they were ready to leave.
"Yet," he said with an eye roll. Then, before you could react, he pulled you in for one last kiss. It was slower, deeper this time, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you, as if he was afraid he might forget the feel of your lips.
"Someone could see us," you whispered against his lips, even as your fingers curled into his shirt.
"I don't care," he murmured, one hand sliding down to your waist to draw you closer. "Let them see." He kissed you again, shorter this time but no less intense. "Besides, they'll find out soon enough when I take you to this little ramen place in Shibuya I've been wanting to show you."
You pulled back slightly. "Oh? Someone's confident about getting a second date."
"Third, technically," he said. "If we're counting Tokyo. And that thing against the washing machine last night."
"Those don't count.”
"Then I guess I'll have to make the next one special. Maybe dinner first. Then I can show you my apartment. Properly this time, not just the entrance hall and kitchen counter."
"Is that your way of asking me out?"
"That's my way of saying I'm not letting you disappear for six months again." He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Use my number this time, yeah?"
"Satoru!" Yuji's voice carried across the driveway. "Stop making out and help me with these bags!"
Satoru laughed against your lips, stealing one more kiss before reluctantly pulling away. "Think about it. The ramen place. My apartment. All the surfaces we haven't used yet."
"Go help Yuji," you said, pushing him away even as you smiled. "Before he comes over here."
"Call me," he said, walking backwards with that stupidly handsome smile. "Or I'll just have to show up at your office. Make a big scene. Maybe bring flowers. Really embarrass you in front of all your coworkers."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me!" He finally turned then to help with the bags, leaving you to shake your head, your lips still tingling from his kisses.
The drive home felt different somehow. Every now and then, your hand would drift to your pocket, fingers brushing over the folded paper with his number, making sure it was still there as the familiar roads back to Tokyo stretched ahead.
The beach house grew smaller in your rearview mirror until it disappeared completely, taking with it the memories of lazy afternoons under the summer sun and heated nights. But other things lingered—the ghost of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hands, the way he'd looked at you like you were something worth waiting for.
Maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Or maybe you'd wait a day or two, just to prove you could. But knowing you, you'd likely message him the moment you set foot in your apartment.
A smile tugged at your lips as you pulled onto the highway, the setting sun painting the sky in strokes of rose and lavender. Whatever happened next, one thing was for sure — this weekend had changed everything.
And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.
masterlist + support my writing
author's note — and that's a wrap on our beach house summer story ! thank you so much for reading :)) & thank you again to @/nanamis-baker for beta reading !!
for anyone wondering, yes, she kept the shirt. and yes, he definitely noticed when she wore it to their first proper date to that ramen spot in shibuya.
if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a comment or reblog. it means so much !! until next time. stay thirsty hydrated, my friends <3
ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here.
tags — @fayuki @starmapz @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna @cocomanga
@nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @sugurbo @chiyokoemilia @janbannan
@bloopsstuff @snowsilver2000 @ihearttoru @momoewn @yokosandesu
@90s-belladonna @fairygardenprincesss
© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
i love bein on this app. dnt nobody know me. dnt nobody care what i be doin. peaceful
DILF NEXT DOOR?
your neighbor is simply too hot to resist. he’s helped you out countless times, always there to fix your car or leaky sink. he also has a giant cock. <3
pairing: toji x fem! reader contents: nsfw, smut, age gap, size kink, breeding kink (more specified in the description of each fic). note: each fic/drabble can be read on it’s own and are not necessarily connected. this is shameless smut, oops.
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
INTRO: SINGLE DILF NEXT DOOR!
your friends will never let you hear the end of it if they find out you’re fucking your neighbor. but you just can’t help it.
contents: size kink, breeding kink, creampies
TOJI TAKING YOU TO HIS FAVORITE BAR
going out with toji is fun! but you should know better than to wear his favorite skirt, silly girl.
contents: semi-public, size kink, creampie
FRIENDS WHO SUCK DICK TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER FEAT. SATORU GOJO
it’s so nice when toji is able to pick you up from frat parties! especially when he agrees to pick up your friends too!
contents: threesome, piv, oral (m! receiving)
MEETING TOJI’S BEST FRIEND COWORKER FEAT. SHIU KONG
apparently shiu has just been dying to meet you! you should show him how what a good girl you are. <3
contents: threesome, double penetration, praise
HE SUSPECTS YOU MIGHT HAVE A DADDY KINK
he just can’t ignore the way a certain word spilled from your lips when he fucked you dumb… he has to make you say it again.
contents: daddy kink, overstimulation, dumbification
PUNISHMENT
unfortunately, brats can’t always be spoiled. :(
contents: degradation, thigh fucking, dacryphilia
HE LOVES YOUR TITS
you have to let him fuck them.
contents: body worship, praise, titty fucking
TOJI ALWAYS TAKES CARE OF YOU
always helping you in positions, holding up up when your knees buckle and arms give out. even when you’re on top, he’s still the one in charge. <3
contents: manhandling, overstimulation, size kink
PART ONE: HELPING YOU STUDY
you have an important exam coming up! and toji has just the perfect reward system to keep you focused.
contents: cockwarming, praise, dumbification
PART TWO: HELPING YOU SLEEP THE NIGHT BEFORE YOUR EXAM
you have so many nerves, tossing and turning in your bed. eventually you give in and knock on your neighbors door.
contents: somnophilia, overstimulation, praise
PART THREE: REWARDING YOU FOR YOUR HARD WORK
you passed! of course, you go straight to toji, beaming with pride. <3
contents: cunnilingus, praise, daddy kink
last updated 5 december 2024
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