#2023 vil what were u on (that’s the problem. nothing. LMao)

[notvil]

cw: free use, but in a non/dubcon way. . . idk either pal.

free use with your sweet roommate ochako is like. . . you seeing her folded up and chilling on the couch after a gap in your shared long week of exams, and just needing to touch her to ease your nerves. there’s a furrow in her brows that screams about how pent up she is too. it wouldn’t hurt to touch her, calm her down. poor thing jumps when your hands creep over her shoulders and massage gently. smiles at you so blithely your stomach turns when you think about what you want to do to her. thanks you and all and you just blink real hard because she’s so fucking cute and adorable and soft.

you don’t even realize your hands have slipped down, kneading at her plump breasts over her loose tee, bouncing them in your hands like they’re something to play with. your thumb and finger automatically start pinching at her nipples, rolling them, and tugging it’s not til then that she makes a sound. squirming away with nowhere to go, ending up squished to the back of the couch and further into your hands that follow her. she’s panting, little ‘no, s-stop’s and ‘wait, please’s are leaving plush lips you want to suck and lick and bite at until they hurt. but you can’t stop, not when you see her thighs spasm, see her heel dig in between those thick thighs, see her hips rock. she may say she doesn’t want it but her body can’t deny it likes feeling good. likes being used.

you stop soon after you feel a few tears splatter on your hand, kissing the crown of her head in apology before leaving after a firm squeeze. it’s sad she started crying right before you stuck your hand in her cotton panties, but you’ll both live.

distantly, your brain screams at you. you want to get off, need to after that power rush, but you know she needs to first. you want to give her the peace to do so alone. though you’ve heard her gasp your name in the shower with an incessant buzz, and seen her washing your shirts and hoodies with hers. but half the power is held in knowing she’ll grope herself just like you did, grinding her pretty pussy on your decorative pillow that you never wash. probably cry a little more about it, beg her version of you to fuck her, touch her, make her cum. it doesn’t feel the same with her hands. it’s yours she craves for, that’s violating touch that she can’t recreate, gripping herself tightly like it would make a difference. it doesn’t compare.

and when you get back, she’ll be shy again, simpering under your casual affections because you make it seem so blasé. she doesn’t have the courage to bring it up, and argue and refute. she can’t without her head getting cloudy; as far as you’re both concerned, nothing should change about your routine. it works just fine. the only problem is toga, her girlfriend that went to that private girl’s school with her before college, a menace in her own right. pretty too, never afraid of how what comes out of her mouth with be perceived. . .

yeah. . . you want to touch the cute, little girlfriend of your sweet, too responsive roommate ochako.