#fidget combo

[jessieren]

No idea which episode this is from but I love the snarkiness….

Plus whatever it is that he does with his mouth here sends me literally insane

Pretty sure the gif is by either @snappyjenkins or @endeavourlover but can’t remember which sorry

[thewandererh]

Decided to render one of my soul designs from a bit ago in a sketchy messy style :]. Meet ToyTie ⚓️🔱!

[dare-g]

Customized my keyboard 🤡

[pan-delure]

Btw, DX OOOs core medals are the perfect toku thing to carry around and stim with. Metal rim and the perfect weight with a good clack.

[ssspringroll]

honestly wish i was an animator cuz i really dont like 90% of the ww animation packs out there.

[archivedjuice]

omg fidget spinners.....

LITERALLY. they're so underrated as fidget toys despite their onset popularity......... mine is camo print and ive used it so much the print is starting to fade but the weight is so perfect and it's nice to hold it :)

[boomerang109]

i’m sick :(

[leirathemartian]

I wasn't going to look at the online notes from my psychiatrist visit this morning because I was a rambling disaster and kept losing track of my train of thought (apparently caffeine has a much better effect on my ability to control myself than I realized) but then I remembered I forgot the time of an appointment next week, so I got on to look anyway and. uh.

"Patient presents a clear psychological status indicative of ADHD. The interview speaks strongly for (severe?) ADHD. The patient has a high talent and capacity for structure, which could mask and compensate for the inconvenience throughout life. But clearly, it affects the patient in large extent, and the suspicion is that it secondary causes fatigue symptoms, anxiety and depression."

I am having a lot of Feelings about this and I'm not entirely sure what they are, even though I knew this would be the result. I didn't expect the (severe?) though, I'm normally less hyperactive than I was today. I guess I feel surprised to be validated, or something?? Just like. over here rotating this in my mind for a while now.

He also wrote "Good disease insight" which makes me feel very Yes I got a good grade in therapy etc etc lol

...Still can't get meds until there's an official neuropsychiatric evaluation which will take a few months which is bullshit but whatever.

[caterpillarstims]

Color combinations I like, 2/?

Pale green and pink

🎀/🎀/🎀 /🎀 🌱/🌱/🌱/🌱

[soft--dogs]

you can't tell but i have INCREASED THE BEANS to an acceptable amount. he's quite full of beans now. ty take note.

thank you for the beans! he says

everyone always complains about the big sparkly dead fish eyes of modern day beanie babies, but no one every talks about the REAL problem, which is the criminally low amount of BEANS inside of today's BEANie baby. WHERE'S THE BEANS TY. WHERE ARE THE BEANS FOR MY BABY

[miaoua3]

I Know You…Or Do I?

Pairing: vernon x gn!reader

Genre: fluffiest fluff to ever fluff, a little bit of comedy, first kiss scenario, childhood best friends to lovers (finally)

Synopsis: vernon decides to give you a heart attack and kiss you for the first time.

Note: i always thought that vernon would be such a friends to lovers guy and 2 minus 1 solidified that so here i present to you how i think a first kiss with this guy would go, enjoy!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

it is clear to anybody who has known vernon for longer than one minute that he’s a bit…on a peculiar side. that wasn’t an insult, but rather a truth acknowledged by a wider audience.

you, of course, knew what was an usual and an unusual behaviour coming from him. this skill didn’t come up all that easily to you, but rather from knowing him since you were but an infant. you both had your mothers to thank for that, considering that their own history goes years beyond your births.

knowing someone for that long of a period is certainly admirable. you’ve always looked up to your mom’s and auntie melody’s friendship, ever since you were a child.

but now, you are an adult yourself, with your own decades long friendship.

you could confidently say that you knew vernon better than the back of your hand. so, as already mentioned, you know what’s usual and unusual for him, even though everything about him is a bit unusual.

for example, for usual behaviours we have his weird thoughts that he would message you at 2am, his weird food combos and his weird way of texting that nobody really gets except you and sofia, his angel sister that you love (sometimes more than him), to name a few.

for unusual behaviours we have the fidgeting when he’s nervous, getting unusually quiet (i mean, sure, he’s more on the quieter side as it is but…there’s just certain times when his quiet is just…off, yknow), trying to hide himself behind you in uncomfortable situations and not answering your messages for longer than 15 minutes.

oh, and kissing you out of the nowhere in your kitchen for the very first time to thank you for getting him his favourite snacks, apparently.

you’re not very sure if this has really happened or if you maybe accidentally did coke and this is just a weird hallucination as a side effect, but it got you so shocked to you just stood there, in your kitchen, with his favourite cookies in hand that you started to unpack and put on a plate before he waltzed in.

see, the reason why this is a really big problem and why it got your heart beating faster than a a racing car is because you have had the biggest crush on your best friend since you were 13. and you did such a good job at hiding your feelings and acting normal around him, even when you wanted nothing more to kiss those plush and soft lips of his.

and now it will all go to waste because how do you go back from this? how do you go back to being his friend now that you know how his lips taste, how soft they are and how much it makes your heart race?

see, you were always under the impression that, other than your friendship, vernon wanted nothing more from you. it seemed like he was perfectly okay with just having you as his platonic partner in crime.

or apparently f*cking not.

after another few second, you quickly finish platting the cookies and go back to the living room, where he’s sat, watching the movie he picked, without a care in the world.

you sit a respectful distance away from him, just watching him watch the movie, apparently feeling perfectly fine.

if only you knew.

with what must sound like the tone of a dead person, you more-so inform him “you’ve kissed me.”

the beautiful bastard has the audacity to not even turn his head in your direction, he just answers “i did”.

pondering over all the possible reasons as to why he did it, you gulp, and with all the courage left in your body, you hopefully ask him “do you like me?”

his answer makes you want to punch him…with your lips against his own, either very aggressively or very gently.

snorting, he answers “have for the last 10 years, thanks for finally noticing.”

you don’t give him any time to prepare or to see it coming for that matter-as soon as the last word leaves his mouth, you are pouncing on him, arms going around his neck, lips colliding with his, clumsily, at first, until you find your balance and climb on his lap.

it is clear that he both didn’t expect you to pounce on him like a wild animal and that he has been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

because as soon as your knees are on both sides of his hips, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as the universe will allow him to and kissing you back like a starved man, like he’s dying and you’re the only antidote that could save him.

your hands finally-finally-sink into his silky soft brown hair, scratching his scalp to see how he would react.

and his reaction doesn’t disappoint-he immediately groans in your mouth, his hands starting to wonder themselves, squeezing your thighs before they travel over your butt, over your back all the way to the nape of your neck, pulling your head closer to his so he can deepen the kiss.

your own arms tighten around his neck, your bodies so close that there isn’t a single part of your body that isn’t touching his. your thoughts are both running and are nonexistent. thinking “finally, this is all i’ve ever wanted to know-the taste of his lips and the strength of his love”, but at the same time, your mind is nowhere to be found, it’s probably floating somewhere between the cotton candy soft clouds.

after many minutes, your kiss turns from hungry and rushed to intimate, soft and tender, until it eventually comes to a stop, your noses still touching, foreheads leaning on each other.

in what must be the softest whisper you ever heard him speak in, vernon says “took you long enough”.

you lightly pinch his cheek and smile “could say the same thing to you. been waiting since we were 13 for you to finally get your head out of your ass and kiss me.”

his heavy eyes fall on your mouth, inviting him to get himself lost in them again “well, the good thing is that now that i finally did, i don’t plan on ever stopping”.

and he never did.

as it turns out, you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did-there were still some things you had yet to find out about him. luckily, his kiss was officially off that list.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(somewhere, not that far away, your mom gives auntie melody 10$ for losing their bet that they had going since you and vernon were both 10.)

[shycoconutt]

It seems when it comes to Nanami Kento, your body has a mind of its own.

Because here you are standing like an idiot, with a brown bag containing various warm pastries and a cup of black coffee, alone in his office in the early hours of the morning, feeling like you’ve fought and won many battles but are currently losing the war.

The war that was once your past and now, to your dismay, is your present too.

The sun has just barely peaked over the mountains, a warm orange glow cascading through the windows of Jujutsu Tech. Placing your offerings on his large wooden desk, you can’t help the exaggerated sigh that escapes your lips.

What has gotten into you.

The entire walk from your apartment, to the bakery, then to work at 8 o’clock in the morning was spent mumbling and grumbling to yourself.

Whatever happened to keeping your distance? Standing your ground? Huh? So what if today’s his birthday? So you happen to know his order at his favorite bakery across town, who cares? Huh? Hello? Are you listening to me—

You probably have a red mark on your forehead from how many times you slapped yourself on the way over here.

Truth is, you know it’s dumb, but the thought of not one person wishing Kento a happy birthday or giving him a gift today makes your stomach hurt. He only just reinstated himself as a sorcerer a couple months ago, and it’s highly likely that no one else but you remembers the importance of this summer day.

Your face warms slightly thinking about teenage Kento and that stupid party hat Satoru forced him to wear for the duration of your class singing him happy birthday. He stood there like an emotionless toothpick. It was hilarious.

Smiling to yourself, you grab a pen and a single sheet from his notepad laid out on his desk and scribble a few words before leaving it there and exiting his office.

~

“Ino,” you yell from your seat on a bench at the sparing field, “you gotta keep your fists close to your chest in a defensive position when fighting. The reason you keep getting knocked over is because you’re leaving yourself wide open.”

With your arms outstretched over the back of the bench, you lift up your head to feel the warm sun rays on your face. It is a hot one today, and you somewhat regret telling your students that you would be working on combat outside all day.

Your decision came mostly because they need the practice, but partly because you know it’s easier to avoid Kento this way.

Five hours into the day, however, you know you have to give your students a break.

“Okay everyone,” you say, clapping your hands together, “why don’t you all take an hour for lunch and then meet back here. When you get back, each of you will take turns sparing with yours truly.”

You giggle at the mix of excited gasps and disappointed groans from your students. They know you won’t go easy on them, and that only excites a select few.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Though, to make up for it, I stashed some goodies in the fridge for you guys in the rec room…”

You blinked and your students were gone, only leaving a small trail of dust in their path. Feeling content in your solitude, you go back to basking in the sun, the soft noise of running water and chirping birds lulling you into a state of relaxation.

You about jump out of your own shoes when you hear someone softly clearing their throat behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, your eyes trail up the stone steps before you lock on a broad figure standing at the top of them, slicked back honey blonde hair threatening to tousle in the strong breeze.

“May I join you?”

No. Nope. Get lost.

“Uh, sure!”

Damn it.

Scooting over to one side of the bench to make room, you nervously fidget with your hands, suddenly very interested in the state of your cuticles.

In your peripheral, you notice he’s dressed lighter than usual. Instead of the tan suit, blue long sleeve dress shirt combo, he has on a pair of brown slacks with a linen tan short sleeve dress shirt. He looks really good.

Then again, he always looks good. Ever since his return, it was no surprise to you that his everyday wear was so formal. Nanami always had an affinity towards proper aesthetics. He holds himself at a higher standard than most and always feels morally obligated to do the right thing.

But, sometimes there is no right or wrong, sometimes the right choice for you is the wrong one for someone else, sometimes the right choice is the easier choice, the one that hurts less.

As he moves to sit next to you, you feel yourself hold your breath.

“The kids flew by me on the way here practically foaming at the mouths,” Nanami muses.

“Yeah, well, I bought them some candy and snacks from 7/11 this morning cause I walked past and knew I would be putting them through the wringer today. It’s honestly the least I could do. They’ll be hurting pretty good later.”

Nanami hums all-knowingly, smirking to himself.

“If memory serves me right, there were plenty of nights back in the day where I would have to take hours-long episome salt baths just to be able to fall asleep that night after a training session with you.”

You can’t help but smile and hum in amusement.

“You never were the best at hand-to-hand. However, once you started bringing blades and shit into the mix, I did often fear for my life.”

“I would have never hurt you, you know that,” Nanami scoffs.

“Yeah,” you pause, “at least with your blade anyway.”

You feel the air still around you. Nanami now leans himself back on the bench, lifting his hands behind him to support his head.

“Hm, I suppose I deserve that.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t…”

“However, what I do not deserve is your kindness,” Nanami states, staring at the field in front of him.

“Hm?”

“You bought me my favorite breakfast today, isn’t that correct?”

You turn to him now, feeling a warm blush rise to your cheeks.

“Yes.”

“And this is the most we’ve talked in a long time.”

“I suppose.”

“I half expected you to yell at me to go away.”

“I thought about it.”

Nanami smiles at this, turning to look at you for the first time, amber eyes looking down softly into yours.

“Thank you, darling. I loved it.”

The genuineness of his words swallow the world around you. You feel your heart lurch, and it’s painful.

Sitting here, so close to his form, you feel like you are two magnets. You wish you could just let go—let yourself give in. You want so badly to fly across the seat and have him absorb you. All of the empty parts of your soul are vacant because of him, and he could fill those crevices so easily, right where he once was so long ago.

You give him a sad smile, reaching your arm out, you bring the palm of your hand gently to his face, letting your thumb graze the skin of his cheek.

“You’re welcome, Kento.”

You allow yourself to touch him like this, but this is as far as you can go, at least for right now. Something you know he understands.

“Hey! Nanami is here!” Ino’s voice brings you out of your trance. You look up to see your students gathered together with all of the snacks, candy and drinks you got them in their hands. You quickly pull your hand away from Nanami so they don’t see.

You beam up at them.

“What are you guys doing back so soon?”

“Well we saw all the stuff you got us and decided it wouldn’t be right to eat all of it and not share some with you. You’re out here working hard too!”

“Aw, thanks you guys,” you smile, “Actually, you know what? This is perfect!”

Leaping up from your spot, you grab Nanami’s hand and gesture for him to stand up with you. He complies reluctantly.

“We can all share our spoils with our BIRTHDAY BOOOOOY!”

Nanami glares at you like you just told them his deepest, darkest secret. You give his hand a small squeeze before letting go, smiling up at him devilishly.

The kids are a blur as they gather around him, practically suffocating him with their enthusiasm. You watch as he battles any signs of joy as they jostle him around.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!”

[jessieren]

Muuuummmmmm… @librawritesstuff is trying to kill me again

I love this fidget…

Brb… I need a minute

Fidget Friday

I’ll just leave this here…

[pan-delure]

Btw, DX OOOs core medals are the perfect toku thing to carry around and stim with. Metal rim and the perfect weight with a good clack.

[urhoneycombwitch]

sweet.

Steve x reader smut, 1.3k

foreword: u know that scene from Euphoria where Elliot makes out with Jules’ hand as if it was her pussy… anyways Steve Harrington take it away!!! 🎤 (dedicated to 🦊 anon thank u for your wisdom)

___

Sure, the drinking and the dancing is a good way to pass the time, but you’re partial to the end-of-night rituals you and Steve have settled into over the years. Your personal afterparty usually involves a shitty romcom, occasionally some weed, and always snacks both sweet and salty to soak up the alcohol.

Steve’s parents are out of town again, so the two of you are down in the basement den, passing a joint between fingers sticky with candy film.

From all your years of reading Steve’s body language you can tell he’s pretty high- feet planted on the ground but head lolling against the back of the couch, hands lax at his sides. There’s a dopey grin on his face- practically primed for a shitty joke or annoying comment- and you let the smoke out with a huff, asking on the exhale, “What?”

“You owe me five bucks.” Steve presses the side of his head into the couch, looking at you with red-rimmed eyes, still smiling.

You scoff, leaning in to pass the joint back and swiping a handful of gummy bears from the coffee table while you’re at it. “Since fucking when?”

“Since I bought this from Eddie.” Steve waves the weed for emphasis before taking another hit, smoke curling from his nostrils. “You’re matching me in pace, princess. This joint was ten bucks- ergo, you owe me five.”

You cackle despite yourself- “Ergo? You’ve been watching too many Perry Mason reruns.” You know Steve’s not actually gonna make you pay for the weed, he’s just trying to rile you up, and the fact that it’s not working is getting under his skin.

He shrugs a shoulder, just shy of pouting. “Point still stands.”

“Well, you shoulda let me buy from him. Eddie always gives me discounts. On account of these.” Here, you straighten your spine and gesture to your chest- after all the night’s activity, your boobs are practically spilling out of your bra and t-shirt combo, skin glowing in the muted TV’s light.

Steve blinks, clears his throat, and busies himself by ashing the joint into a spare candy wrapper. “Uh huh. Right. I’ll be sure to remember your tits the next time I’m talking to Munson.”

“At least someone will be thinking of them.” You mean it as a joke, but your voice is a bit too mournful to be taken lightly.

“Ah, and you’ve been picking such winners, recently,” Steve intones, dryly. The pillow launched at his head in your poor attempt to hit him is easily batted away. “C’mon, sweetheart. You’ve been going out with total losers. Aaron Conroy? Jamie Porter? Wouldn’t trust either of those guys to find their own dicks. Let alone your whole… business.”

Steve’s aborted gesture to the general area of your jeans makes you guffaw. “Oh, and you’re the reigning expert on girls’ business?”

“Sure am. King Steve, after all.” Said king juts an overeager thumb into his chest, winces, then gives his hand a little shake.

“Mmhm.” You slide across the couch cushions to take the joint again, knee knocking into Steve’s. “I’m pretty good at it too, y’know.”

Steve stares with wide eyes as you suck smoke into your lungs, blinking owlishly before stuttering- “You- you’re saying you’re pretty good at eating pu- at eating girls out?”

Another cackle looses from your chest along with the smoke, you can’t help it- Steve looks so properly shocked. “No, Steve, obviously I meant sucking dick. Not that I’d be opposed, per se, to a girl’s… business.”

The word drips in irony and Steve scrubs a hand down his face in irritation as you settle against the couch next to him, brushing shoulders as you continue. “Just aren’t enough girls in Hawkins to go for. Who are both out and not my friends,” you amend, before Robin can be dragged into the conversation against her will.

“You wouldn’t go down on a friend?” Steve fidgets a strip of paper Clark Bar wrapper between his fingers, crinkling quietly while he waits for your answer.

The weed has settled in your system now, a haze in your veins as you stub the roach out and leave it on the coffee table. You settle back into the couch, suddenly aware of every point of contact- thigh to thigh, arm to arm, shoulder to shoulder with Steve, who’s seemingly paused his breathing.

“Uhm. Yeah. I’d sleep with a friend,” you say, staring at your lap, empty hands twisting around themselves.

The tension of the moment swells, you can feel it in your chest, even as Steve draws in a breath to muse, “Wonder who’s better at it.”

“Eating girls out?” You look at him to confirm, feeling a pang when you see the lock of chestnut hair that’s flopped from its place to rest against his forehead. “I mean… probably you. Seeing as you’ve got the most experience.”

Steve smiles, lazily, tipping his head in acknowledgement, then says, “I could teach you. If you wanted.”

If Steve feels the way you stiffen in response to his words he doesn’t point it out, instead tossing the wrapper aside in favor of taking your hand into his. “Only if you wanted, though.”

You start nodding before the words can come; a shaky “Okay,” and Steve’s wrapping two warm palms around your right hand, manipulating your fingers into making a fist.

“I like to start with kissing,” he says, voice low, gaze fixed on your combined hands. “Y’know. To work her up, get her wet.”

It’s not even technically dirty talk, but the pitch of Steve’s words make your thighs clench involuntarily, seeking friction. Steve brings your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the base of your thumb, and your breath hitches.

“And then I… usually…” Steve trails off, and you can see the gears turning in his head at how best to teach. Apparently, he pegs you for a hands-on learner, because instead of words, he dips down to lick a stripe up the flat of your thumb.

Your mouth falls open as Steve licks deftly into the crease made by your thumb and index finger, curling the point of his tongue near the base again, your clit throbbing in response as if he was actually between your legs.

Steve makes out with your hand for what feels like hours, all sense of time warped by the heady weed. His mouth is warm and wet, saliva dripping through to your palm as he holds you in place despite your squirming.

What’s really turning you on is how into this Steve appears to be- his eyes are closed as if to savor the moment, brow pinched with pleasure, little noises from the back of his throat sending vibrations down your arm.

You fight the urge to sink your free hand into those silky brown locks; instead, your nails bite into soft skin as you clench a fist at your side, willing the subtle movement of your hips with each stroke of Steve’s tongue to stay subtle.

There’s an obscene squelching noise filling the otherwise quiet basement, and this seems to spur Steve on, suckling at your sensitive skin, heat coursing through your body as you gasp out, “Steve…”

He pulls off your hand with a wet pop, a string of saliva still connecting you both, his mouth a glistening half-moon in the low light before he swipes the back of his hand across it. “So. Yeah. Something like that. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.”

You fight with the hinge of your lower jaw to put it back in its place, breathing heavily as you wipe your slick-coated hand against the leg of your jeans. It leaves a wet patch- likely not the only one, if the heartbeat between your legs is any indication. “Probably the gummy bears.”

“Uh huh. You think you’re any better?” Steve’s got that easy grin back on his face, cheeks rosy, lips flushed with color, too.

A quick glance down confirms that he’s hard as a rock, sizeable outline of his cock visible through the denim, betraying the bravado in his stance.

Oh, you’re gonna wreck him.

With an easy grin of your own, you reach for Steve’s hand. “Dunno. Wanna find out?”

[nanamis-bigtie]

privilege

↬ ficsforgaza collaboration kinktober | gojo satoru x afab reader ↬ jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (no gendered pronouns and detailed body descriptions), implied alcohol consumption, free use, piv sex, almost caught, cum on body and creampie talk, consent given within the limits of kink, bottom reader, sub reader, pet names (pretty thing, little thing), size difference, gojo has a big dick word count: 1k a/n: it's pleasure and, nomen omen, privilege to be one of writers chosen for the @ficsforgaza 's kinktober collab ❤ big thanks to the donor, both for supporting the initiative and giving me such an inspiring prompt and character combo to work with! i hope you'll enjoy it! (i was previously known as @bas-writes and i'm still registered under this name in the masterlist, sorry for the confusion!)

Satoru never passes the opportunity to hang around with your friends, if only to appropriately stress that you're his. Weirdly enough, this time he ignored the invitation, teaching reports and other papers be damned, and he really kept the promise, gone both from the bar you chose for tonight and your apartment where the party has eventually moved. 

But shortly before midnight, when the first of your guests starts to fidget around with leaving excuses, and Shoko curls in her favorite napping spot on your couch, the door clicks open and Gojo Satoru himself peeks into the living room. He presses index finger to his lips, as if he hasn’t just become the center of everyone’s attention, and beckons you over.

“Hey,” he stretches the vowels as he speaks. Hands resting at the top of the door frame, he towers over you and grins, his huge body blocking all routes of a possible retreat.

As if you wanted to run away, even if you’ve already got a grasp of what’s about to happen.

Satoru grabs your wrist and pulls you into the kitchen, the only room at your place that has no door. If any of your guests decided to leave now, they would have a perfect view of all spicy details.

“Now?” You grit your teeth, not mad, just surprised he’s decided to go for his privilege when you’re not alone.

“I missed you.” He pecks your lips, sharing the taste of his peach-flavored chapstick. He's all over you while barely touching you; his presence, hunched shoulders as he leans down to reach you, is enough. Muscular arms flush against your sides leave you no place to move, having breath hitching at your throat with anticipation. You're trapped, you're a reward for the long day of hard work, you're his.

“Bend over.” He barks an order, voice strained with lust, not bothering to control its volume whatsoever. The chatter from the living room sips into the kitchen, so it's safe, it should be safe—as if Satoru ever cared whether others catch him using you or not.

You’ve barely taken your position, elbows against the nearest flat surface, hips pushed back for him, when he yanks your bottoms down to your knees. Arms wrapped around your middle, he slams himself against your back, closely, suffocating, forcing the hard edge of the counter into your abdomen. Still dressed, the harsh fabric of his pants grazing your bare ass, he breathes heavy against the back of your neck, whines into your ear as he steals the first dry thrust. He's so needy he's almost shaking but he keeps holding you tight, controlling every, even the slightest, move of yours.

You try to spread your legs wider for him regardless, but Satoru pinches your sides and clicks his tongue, displeased.

“Keep it tight.” A sharp hiss of his zipper later, he paws at your ass, spreads your cheeks for his already hard cock to hump against you better, and lowers himself to line up with the top of your thighs.

As always, he’s fast to leak from his fat tip, letting him slide smoothly between your legs, the overside of his cock brushing against your slit. The friction and weight of his body pressing against you—and possibility of getting caught—have your moisture building up a little, too little for his size, each throb of it between your folds reminding you of it.

“I’m gonna put it in, pretty thing.” Satoru’s voice teeters between a growl and a whimper. One arm hooked around you, he pulls you so close it's hard to breathe. You feel it even in your ribs; no doubt he could break them if only he wanted to. “It may hurt a little, but you must take it, okay? Please, be good for me, I really need it.”

His cock presses against your unprepared entrance. You hiss through clenched teeth and arch your hips to angle yourself better—for him and to spare yourself at least some discomfort.

You still jerk up when he starts pushing in. He’s thick and difficult to take even under normal circumstances.

“Shhh, just a moment, little thing.” Satoru rasps into your ear as he slowly eases himself inside, the tip of his cock almost reaching the depth where it becomes unbearable. “That’s right, relax, don’t squirm or else they’re gonna catch us.”

You shiver and leak at the terrifying thought of a familiar face peeking into the kitchen, but he barely notices the difference, too focused on rutting into you and whimpering dirty nonsense into your ear.

“Can I cum inside, pretty thing?” His voice is breaking in immense pleasure. “Please?”

“No!” You hiss, a little too loud, and his big hand immediately lands on your lips, keeping your voice in check.

“You don’t want to obey?” You can hear him pouting. “You’re free to use for me, remember?”

You’ve asked yourself!

You brace yourself for being ignored but soon, right as your own pleasure starts to build up, he leaves you empty, his throbbing cock now flush against your ass, and spills himself there with a loud, desperate grunt.

His hot, thick seed flows down your rim and slit, and Satoru breathes heavy and moist against the back of your neck. He kisses you right under the line of your hair and is about to say something—but a sudden rustle in the hallway stands in his way. Faster than a thought, he pulls your bottoms up, hiding your dirty secret from curious eyes, and embraces you from behind. 

Nothing suspicious, just a couple sharing sweet cuddles in the kitchen.

Ijichi bows at you awkwardly, rather scared of Satoru’s presence than predicting anything, and passes by barely peeking at your heaving chests and messy clothes. 

You try to sneak out of your partner’s arms to help him with the door, but you’re immediately pulled back.

“We’re not finished.” Satoru nibbles on your ear as soon as Ijichi disappears into the night. “And this time you’re going to be a good little thing and milk me of all I’ve got for you.”