#he's a little subbbyyyy in this weeeeeee

[woahjo]

cw: fwb, unprotected sex, creampie, no aftercare (it prob happens but i did not write it), casual sex, very very light pain play (satoru pinches), semi-rough sex, light femdom (kinda)

fwb with satoru gets really messy really really fast and then you both have to pretend that it didn't happen... then ofc the next week you start sleeping together again because you can't keep your hands off of each other.

there's a lot of frustration. a lot of emotion that neither of you are all too eager to claim, and it charges you both up like static set to shock. it makes you... angry and vindictive, chasing something that you both refuse to give a name to (even if the name is obvious).

it's a thursday and the night has gone as either of you had expected it to. truthfully, you didn't come over to satoru's place to fuck him. he's your friend, even with all the sex you have, and you really just came over here just to hang out. of course, one thing led to another and the proximity, teasing words, his hand on the top of your thigh, fingers creeping further and further up... well, of course you ended up like this. it seems to be a natural state for the two of you.

straddled across his lap, you can feel the heavy press of his cock inside of you. satoru's head is angled back, exposing the underside of his jaw as he closes his eyes to admire the tight squeeze of you around him. his hands grip your hips tightly, slender fingers squeezing into the soft padding of flesh your figure provides. his breath comes quickly and through an alternating mix of gritted teeth and a slack jaw.

you've got the lead, rolling your hips forward and bracing your weight on the couch behind him. the pace is brutal and his cock bullies your insides with each frantic roll of your hips against his. you can feel the way he moves to meet you, desperate and wanting, his chest covered in a slick sheen of sweat. his shirt and your shorts are the only things the two of you managed to take off and the rest of your clothes stick to your bodies as they gather heat.

satoru's hand snakes it's way under your casual t-shirt, kneading the soft flesh of your breast and then delivering a painful pinch to the delicate skin. you shudder, enamored by the wide feel of his palm on your skin and he grins lazily at the easy access. you haven't even worn a bra, how telling.

the expression frustrates you. satoru tilts his head forward a little bit to look at you, delivering a sort of cock-sure grin that makes your cunt throb and your frustration flare. then, he drags his eyes down your body before focusing in on the place where the two of you meet, intensely focused on catching glimpses of the base of his soaked cock and your pretty, parted cunt.

you grit your teeth, leaning up so that you're looming over him and picking up with the aggression of your movement. there's a desperate sense of pressure in your lower abdomen and satoru tilts his head up to look at you as you reorient yourself to be on top of him. you can see the way his lips curl up, wetted by his tongue darting out to lick them. his expression is stiff and pleasure ridden, white eyebrows knitted together and a flush across his features as he looks back down between the two of you. one hand squeezes your breast and the other moves your hips along with you, painful pressure where each finger meets your body.

you take his face in your hand, your fingers sinking into the hollows of his cheek, forcing his expression into a half pout. satoru is forced to look at you and he tears his eyes away from where the two of you meet to rest on your face. they're blue and glassy, watering with whatever desperate, wild emotion this sort of thing brings on. you feel him grit his teeth under your grip and you can't help but grin, tilting your head to the side.

"tell me you want me," you demand, your voice breathy.

"i want you," he says. satoru doesn't even stop to think about it. normally, he might put up a fight, but tonight, you have the power and he admits his desire freely and with a desperate undertone.

"yeah?" you tease, picking up your pace. your breathing comes quickly, it comes as a tell. "how badly?"

"so badly," he grunts, his face still caught in your grip. "so much."

you grin and satoru sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as your cunt clenches around him and you bore down on him. you feel him twitch inside of you and shudder, bringing your face close to his.

"tell me you love me, satoru," you demand, feeling the way his breath catches in his throat. you don't stop the movement of your hips, teetering on the edge of an orgasm as pleasure mounts in your lower stomach.

satoru grits his teeth and seems to pause at this. his breathing quickens, eyes screwing shut before you deliver a squeeze to his cheeks that tells him to open them.

"come on," you pant. "tell me you love me."

and satoru does.

"i love you," he says on an exhale, the words breeching his lips as if he'd been holding his breath. you clench down around him and satoru says it again, sharper this time and with a whiny undertone. "i love you."

you let go of his face, putting your hands on his shoulders as you creep closer and closer to the edge. satoru's fingers dig into your hips and you feel the way his grip tightens and twitches as he creeps closer. your nails dig little crescents into satoru's upper back, almost begging it to bleed.

with a groan, you push your chest forward and cum over him, your hips twitching as you try and fail to keep up the pace. it takes everything you have not to slam your knees closed in front of you. instead, you press yourself down and against him, raking your nails across his back and you briefly register the sound of satoru's choked moan before you feel him spill inside of you.

there's no pleasure greater than this. there is no better feeling than coming around him with heavy words in the air. satoru's fingers don't let up on your hips and his chest heaves with each breath. they keep you over him and you watch as he leans his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, satisfied with the feeling of plugging you up and spent with the admission (maybe a lie, maybe not) that you dragged out of him.