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heazueken · 5 months ago

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I Want My Donut

*ೃ༄ summary: You were promised Satoru wouldn’t eat your donut. So how can he repay you when you wake up to it missing?

warning(s): MDNI, explicit sexual content, crack smut, food consuming and sex, blow job (male receiving)

pairing(s): gojo satoru/reader

w/c; 5.5k a/n: every fic is self indulgent isn’t it? this was a gift to a friend (@stsgooo) who had his donut taken from him </3 so this is based off of real events (just not the smut part) enjoy? LMAOOO

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You had one, repeat, one good thing to look forward to when you woke up and sat straight up in bed; A fucking donut. You and Satoru had gone the previous morning to a new local pastry shop that had a wide variety of pastries, from croissants, to danishes, strudels, you name it. They also had a good selection of classic donuts. You didn’t need that many but Satoru, having the sweetest tooth between you two, decided that six donuts just simply wasn’t enough. A baker's dozen had been decided by him and he chose to pay himself considering he changed the plans of only getting six. You carried the box in your lap on the way home, the box smelling sweetly of frosting, cream and baked dough. It warmed your thighs the rest of the way.

By the time Satoru parked the car three donuts were gone. No, you hadn’t had a single one. Satoru begged for you to open the box and let him have one— insisting that because he paid and was driving that he deserved payment in the form of a chocolate bar. After nearly avoiding an accident, you clinging to the box to protect the donuts out of sheer instinct, Satoru decided he deserved another for that one. ‘I did just save our lives’ was what he muttered when he stuffed a lemon filled donut in his mouth. And finally, the reason for the third donut to be wolfed down in such an ungodly manner was simply because he was pretty and to keep that natural beauty he just had to have the apple filling strudel. That bastard.

“You better save at least one for me, you freak.” Satoru licks his sticky fingers and you stare at him with a sneer of disgust. He wrapped his hands around the steering wheel and you had to make a note to clean the wheel the next time you were in the drivers seat.

“I will, I will!” He muttered, crumbs falling out of his mouth, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunks except this chipmunk was a full grown man and it wasn’t necessary for him to store his dessert inside his mouth like that.

By the time dinner rolled around there were three donuts left.

“Satoru,” shocked, but mildly impressed, you looked at the stains of the cardboard box where many donuts had just been sitting were now gone and only remnants of crumbs were left. Still, your cream filled donut sat by its lonesome, untouched. “How many did you fucking eat?”

Satoru barely looks up at you from his phone, his lip pours in a false consideration before he shrugs as if it wasn’t insane for someone to eat ten donuts in one day. “I don’t know, three?” You point to the box, whistling for his attention which he reluctantly looks up to see you standing there with the lid open.

“There are three left in here. We got thirteen, Satoru, thirteen donuts. You ate ten donuts!” Your boyfriend throws his hands up in his defense, shoulders shrugging up to his ears.

“Can’t a man like me enjoy a sweet treat now and again?!”

“You can! Just don’t fucking touch my donut.” You look back down to the box, then back to Satoru who looked equally as shocked at you, except his reasoning was your sudden ‘outburst’ and not the fact that he was a pig.

“I will not touch your fucking donut, sheesh!” He storms off to your shared bedroom, but he rounds the corner and quickly swipes an eleventh donut, trotting away before you could really give him an earful.

So yeah, that’s how we come here to this very situation the next morning. Satoru, away from home (probably for his morning jog, that psychopath.) You, standing in the kitchen in one of his oversized t-shirts that he bought specifically for you to wear with the box of donuts sitting on the counter in front of you. Except it wasn’t a box of donuts anymore. It was just a box. An empty box with remnants of the grease that stained the cardboard material, swipes of chocolate frosting were seen as well as the crumbs littered around inside it. No matter how many times you opened and closed the lid, your cream filled donut just was not showing up. How strange. You had specifically told your stupid boyfriend to do one thing and that was to not eat your one donut you wanted for yourself. And yet here we are, an empty box and an angry girlfriend ready to grab Satoru by the balls and drop kick him into next week. He was in for one when he got home.

You paced the kitchen, chin between your thumb and index finger in thought as you considered the options swirling around your head. Should you call him right now? Give him an earful and make him run to the bakery to get what you rightfully deserve? Should you print copies of those embarrassing photos of his middle school portrait from when he thought he could dye his own hair and had to go to picture day with patchy pink hair and pin them all over the walls? Should you tackle him when he got home and choke him out? Should you murder him? All options just seemed too good to choose from, it was hard to pick.

When the sound of keys jingling and the doorknob turning reached you, you decided that death for Gojo Satoru would be the best option. You grabbed a knife off the cutting board that had been left there just the night before, you raised it up like you were Norman Bates from Psycho about to plunge the sharp kitchen tool into your boyfriend's chest when he finally opened the door and stumbled inside. Satoru kicks his shoes off, takes an ear bud out and looks up at you when he notices a figure (you) in the distance. He’s still bent over, even from across the room you can see panic settle into his eyes. His body becomes rigid, his eyes widen and he acts like an opossum. Maybe if I just stay still they won’t notice me…

You raise the knife higher, an eerie smile cracks across your face. “Would you like to tell me why my donut is gone from the box, Gojo.” Oh god. You never called him by his last name unless you were properly pissed off, like actually angry with him. It had been so long since he had seen the rage boil from you, he could see the trembling of your body and it only made him shake with fear.

“Sweetheart, I can explain— Y-you’re up earlier than I thought. I was going to go back this morning to replace it and��“

“You wouldn’t have to replace it if you had just listened to me the first time.” It’s like there's an evil glint in your eye when you look down at him over your nose. Chin turned up when you point the edge of the knife towards him. “You will be dealt with shortly. But first,” Satoru looks at you with horror when you dramatically pause before continuing, “You will tell me why you ate my donut.”

Frozen in fear, your boyfriend still stands there by the door. He finally let the door go, it clicks closed and now he can’t escape. It would be a dumb move to turn back and run out, that would only draw attention to them both and the chance of someone calling the cops on them when they see a domestic dispute unraveling right in the road was simply something he wasn’t willing to risk. He could see it now, you chasing him down the street with the knife in your hand, him desperately yelling for forgiveness to only be met with your evil laugh and the blade buried in his chest. And over what? A donut! A fucking donut. He could try and flee to their bedroom but then he’d have to shelter himself in there. He’d ultimately have to leave at some point and face the wrath of his hangry girlfriend. No, no he had nowhere to go, he was forced to face you head on.

“I…I…” You take a step forward and he straightens his back and attempts to go backward only to be met by the front door. “I was hungry, I needed a sugar fix before my jog and-and I was going to stop by the bakery later and replace it before you woke up but—“

“You are the biggest asshole, Satoru. I mean seriously.”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “It’s only a donut, I can buy you a new one.” Your sneer is apparent across your face and Satoru only feels his stomach drop when he realizes he said the absolute wrong thing. You take a few more steps toward him and you’re just a foot away from him. He presses his back hard against the front door and looks down at you. Despite him being over a foot taller than you he did not feel very tall, he felt small in front of your burning gaze. You were so close now that he could actually see the pain that flashes across your eyes for a moment. He had really fucked up this time.

“It was my donut. You clearly don’t respect my things or me as a person if you’re willing to steal something that I specifically asked you not to.” The words felt like daggers in his chest and his knees go wobbly with the guilt that settles low in his gut. Satoru falls to his knees right in front of you, he lowers his head and knocks his forehead to the ground. A full on dogeza before you.

“I’m so sorry! I’m terrible! I ruined your entire day! I’ll make it up to you!”

Staring down at the pitiful man before you, you lower the knife in mercy and tap your socked foot to his hand.

“How are you gonna make it up to me?” He’s about to raise his head to look up at you but you firmly put your foot atop his head and force his forehead back to the floor. “You will answer me.”

How will he make it up to you? A new fucking donut, duh. Maybe he’ll get you a whole baker's dozen of cream filled ones and you can keep them to yourself. That’s the only possible solution, right? But even when he suggested getting you another it wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear. Satoru had taken from you, something you had told him to keep his grubby hands off of and he disobeyed. Knowing you, you’d want a resolution that was outlandish. You liked to make a fool out of him, lowering him a peg or two. Like when he had eaten the last Milky Way that you called dibs on (he swore he didn’t hear you announce that) last Halloween and so you had him dress up in a maid costume and do your assigned chores the next day. You seemed eager to make him get on his knees and clean between the tiles of the kitchen with a toothbrush, really, that had to have counted as domestic abuse surely. Satoru would be lying though if he said he didn’t enjoy it half as much as you do. How will he make this thievery up to you now?

His eyes are shut tightly as he thinks of what to say and he lightly bangs his forehead against the wood floorboards as if it would help him choose a solution faster.“Aaaahhhh, uhhhhhhh,” he groans, trying to find some sort of answer to grasp onto. Could he put on the maid costume again? Maybe he could offer doing the dishes for the next two months. Perhaps he could suggest crawling into a hole and staying out of your sight for a week if that made you happy. Nothing, nothing came to mind! Satoru lets out something along the lines of a moan and he tries to raise his head only to be met with your foot pressing him back down. He needed to get you another damn donut, forget the other shit. But that clearly wasn’t enough for you! What else could he possibly come up with?

Then it hit him. Like a light turned on in that empty head of his and the image of his answer sat on top of a podium beneath the harsh white light, glowing and sparkling. Oh, you would love this.

“I know how I can make it up to you.” He scoots his hands, his right hand sliding over to your other foot that wasn’t occupied by stepping on him. He rubs his thumb over the top of your foot.

“I will get you your donuts…and…and…I’ll get some to stack on my dick and you can eat them off me.”

There’s a silence that nestles between you both. It’s deafening and he can feel his blood rush through his ears as a fear oozes across himself at the thought that maybe, just maybe, you would actually end his life over a donut. Oh…maybe you wouldn’t love this.

“Satoru…” You begin, your voice lacking any emotion, he tries to gauge where you are but your foot stays firmly. “That is…the stupidest idea ever. What the hell?” He’s sweating, full on soaking through his shirt. The fear ripples over his body and he almost begins to tremble before you’re removing your foot and telling him to look at you. He slowly raises his chin, his eyes follow up your figure, starting at your ankles and glazing past your legs, up your torso (he still notices the knife in your right hand—now lowered), then your neck and finally your face. There’s a playful smile and suddenly he hears a laugh escape you. What?

“I think I would love that, actually. But you’re driving there and buying the donuts.”

You turn on your heel, heading back toward the kitchen and leaving Satoru on his hands and knees in shock. He watches you put the knife back where it was and calmly walk back to your room, the sound of the door shutting reaches him and releases a sigh. There’s a buzzing in his pants, he reaches for his phone, a text from you at the top of his notification center;

I don’t want to see you until you get those donuts.

A period at the end. This is serious.

He scrambles back to his feet and grabs the car keys by the front door and is practically running to the car.

Satoru bought a fresh new batch just for you. Twelve donuts, half of them cream filled and the other half plain chocolate donuts with the hole and everything for…the activity you settled for as repayment. He’s proud of himself, a big smile slapped across his face when he gets back home and kicks his shoes off, not caring where they land. He makes his way into your shared room, not bothering to knock.

He’s already semi-hard; just the idea of him exposed to you was enough to get him going, Satoru was easy like that. It didn’t help when he stumbled into the room and you were laying across the bed on your stomach, your back to him so he could see a defined shape of your ass. You sway your hips side to side in the pair of shorts he told you many times he adored seeing you in. They were just loose enough to give him easy access, pushing them to the side and sliding himself inside you (which he had done many times). He shudders at the thought, his dick growing harder and aching more for you. You sit up, scooting yourself to the wall that the head of the bed met and you lean against it, a wide smile across your face too. You’re just as excited as he was, he could tell; you tended to become red in the face and neck, your eyes would have this gloss over them when you were especially aroused or needy. Then there was a fidgeting, you bringing your legs together and squirming told him you were already wet and warm between your legs. You motion him to come to the bed, pulling the covers away and leaning over to grab the box from him.

Satoru makes quick work to sit beside you, he touches his shoulder to yours and puts his hand over your thigh, squeezing it in greeting. You don’t meet his gaze when he admires your profile for a second, watching the way your eyes light up when you open the box to see they’re all for you. You look at him then, a toothy grin on your face and you lean in to give him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. It felt great to be back on your good side after that rollercoaster of a morning.

You reach a hand over and mirror his movement, squeezing his thigh and Satoru releases a pathetic whine. His hips shift and raise, his cock fully erect and creating friction within the confines of his underwear and pants.

“You’re seriously hard already? What? Had a raging boner the whole way home?” Your hand slides teasingly up his firm thigh, your fingers pressing into the soft skin. Your fingers travel beneath where the hem of his running shorts begin and you're sliding up and up until you feel the beginning hill of his erection. Satoru jolts, he forces himself to look at you, that pout on his face told you everything. He most definitely had been hard on the way home and needed you to fix it. He bites his lip when your hand gently cups him and your fingers wrap around what it can against the strain of fabric. Your index finger finds his tip, already beading through his underwear, you coo.

“Bet it was hard, huh? Being this hard and having to wait. Were you hard at the shop too?” Satoru could only nod, releasing another moan from between his lips. You squeeze harshly around him and it makes him yelp.

“Answer me.”

He nods again, bringing a hand up to cover his incessant sounds. “Y-yes. I was hard…I was so hard just thinking about this.”

“You like thinking about me eating donuts off your dick?” The corner of your mouth tugs into a smirk and you both can’t help but release a laugh at that absurdity of the situation. But Satoru had to admit that yes, he definitely was hard thinking about you jerking him off while you ate a donut that was wrapped around his cock.

“Have to admit I do…” He confesses. Your fingers gently ghost up and down his shaft, making the words falter out of his mouth and feeling him try to raise his hips to make more friction between the two of you. Satoru’s face scrunches, his nose getting wrinkly and his eyes screwing shut to focus on not cumming right in his underwear like some horny virgin. If this was enough to send him over the edge, he can’t imagine holding off for very long once you finally get between his legs. But he was the strongest, he could do it…maybe.

You remove your hand, sliding it back down and feeling the soft bristle of the fine hair on his legs, down and down until your hand grips his under knee and you pull it close to you, forcing him to spread his legs. There’s a look in your eye when you shift over his leg to settle between his thighs. You lock eyes and he sees that hunger in your gaze, your eyes half lidded, lips parted. Your right hand cups over him again over his shorts, your left reaching for the elastic around his hips. With a hook of your fingers and a quick tug Satoru’s shorts slide down his thighs with ease. He raises his legs up over your head to help him get half naked, his cock springing free from its confines and standing to attention.

He’s beautiful like this, he always is. Spread apart, slouching into his pillows and covering the bottom half of his face with his hand to hide the blush that dusted his cheeks. Satoru tended to also get red all over, the blush traveled across every part of him, his cheeks, ears, down his neck and across his chest. Your hands lay over the strength of his thighs and you notice his cock twitch with anticipation when your hands reach where his thighs meet his pelvis. White coarse hair makes a trail from his belly button down to where he’s aching and red for you. He looks down at you with bright eyes, droopy and glossy like he was about to cry— he often did that too. Your fingers find settlement in the bush of hair, pressing down on his pelvis and your other hand grazes over the underside of his hard shaft.

“Nngh…please…”

“Quiet,” you bite back. Your fingers travel down until the soft skin of his balls gives into your touch. You cup them and your hand on his pelvis is wrapping around the base of him. You squeeze gently and watch more precum dribble out of his tip. You have half a mind to bend down and have a taste but you refrain— instead you remove your hand from his shaft and reach over to open the box. Pulling out one of the chocolate donuts, it had rainbow sprinkles atop it, one fell off the frosting you caught it with your mouth just in time. You look at Satoru whose gaze is locked where your tongue connects to the donut. You drive the tip of your tongue into the frosting, it melts away under the heat of your mouth and you lock eyes with the man before you, dragging your tongue over the frosting and coating your tastebuds with its sweetness. You watch Satoru’s adam’s apple bob as he gulps, he almost becomes redder and you feel his balls in your hand twitch at the lewd action before him.

“You’re sick, you know that?” He says through gritted teeth, his voice shaking with arousal.

You smile. “You’re sick for eating my donut.” He couldn’t argue with that so he shuts his mouth and watches you lower the pastry over his tip.

Satoru’s girthy, almost too girthy for the likes of this donut. Its hole is much too small to fit a man of his width, but you try anyway. The dough stretches and tears slightly as you shimmy it down his shaft, it doesn’t give a good squeeze like you do when he’s sheathed inside you but it’ll have to do for now. It’s sticky and the warmth of your hands had the frosting melting slightly, but now that it’s wrapped around Satoru’s cock like this, it practically drizzles down the sides of his length. It’s silly, you bob his dick forward and backward, watching with amusement— your boyfriend has a donut wrapped around him like some sort of cheap imitation of a cock ring. You let out a laugh, your hand wrapping itself around the base of him again to catch the melting chocolate from reaching into the crevices of his coarse hair. Your fist slides up to the underside of the donut, then back down, then back up, then down. Over and over again, you duck your head down, scooting so you lay on your stomach between his legs. Your tongue peaks out of your mouth and you let it follow a path of chocolate up his cock. The warmth of your mouth has Satoru letting out a choked gasp and his eyes widen to watch your tongue lap at the melted frosting.

This was crazy, right? Absurd even, feeling this aroused at the sight of a donut around his cock and his girlfriend licking the chocolate off him. He watches with his mouth agape, you taking a bite out of the donut, your eyes opening to look up at him through your eyelashes. The dim lights of the room hit your face just right and your full cheeks chew on the sweet pastry for a moment. Your eyes shut with a comfort that travels across your body and you’re sinking lower into the bed, the sweet taste of the pastry making your body go limp in bliss. You swallow and decide to give Satoru a few more well deserved tugs before opening your mouth and laying your tongue flat against the underside of his tip. You let drool trail down his cock, flicking your tongue back and forth where you know he’s sensitive. Satoru arches his back off the bed and he grabs the sheets instead of giving into the temptation of grabbing your hair and fucking into your mouth, he has to keep some sort of control…he cries out your name, head thrashing to the side.

“Please—fuck…don’t stop!” He begs, drool collecting at the corners of his mouth. You pull away then, watching a bridge of spit break between you both, his tip glistens in the light and you decide to take another bite of the donut. Satoru lets out a loud whine of disdain at the lack of contact, his hands reaching out to grasp at you to pull you back but you swat his hands away and hold one of his wrists down firmly against the mattress.

“You don’t get to order me around, Satoru.” You take another bite, making sure the ring of dough around his cock stays intact, your hand makes good work on his lower shaft and you watch a dribble of melted chocolate slip past your hand and down his balls. Aiming the head of his cock towards his face to have a good look, you lower your mouth to catch it with your tongue and slowly lick up the path it followed, you let your tongue press and wrap your lips around a testical. Satoru grunts, another plea leaving his mouth and he watches your eyes flutter closed. You hum your satisfaction, sucking on the loose skin and you caress your thumb against a prominent vein on his hard length. You let him go with a wet pop and your tongue follows back up his length to take another bite of the donut. It begins to tear, losing its structure with each taste from you. Satoru’s width stretched it far enough so it slumped to one side and rested atop your closed fist.

You work your hand up, his foreskin following along with the chocolate donut. His precum beads out of his tip and it collects enough to topple over and slide down the head. It drips onto the donut and you feel him trembling underneath your touch. Satoru breathes your name, throws an arm across his face and huffs, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His knees attempt to draw together but he instead digs them into your hips and squeezes you. Your free hand goes back to cup over the expanse of his thigh and you press him back open and you dig your fingernails into his skin, releasing a whimper from him. You were one of the lucky ones to see him in such a state as this, calling out and weeping for release. His hips began to buck up into your fist with a furocity and the friction only fanned the flames that blazed beneath his skin. He was close, so incredibly close, but he knew better than to cum without permission.

“You’re so pretty, Satoru,” you whisper his name in such a way that makes his head dizzy and his eyes roll back into his head. His mouth locks open and another needy moan crawls out along with the trail of drool that follows down the hill of his lip and the slope of his chin.

“Please…fuck, please just let me cum.”

“I’m not even done with my snack.” You give him a few more tugs, opening your mouth to release a string of spit off your tongue and let it land and slide down the tip of his cock. It’s filthy when you wrap your lips around the head and suckle, letting the flat of your tongue toy with his sensitive skin. Satoru jerks upward and forces you to take more of him in your mouth and your nose presses against the top of the donut, leaving a mark of frosting. You quickly release, sliding your mouth lazily down his shaft and taking a bite out of the pastry. The dough rips, unable to keep its form anymore and you grab it before it can fall over. Satoru whines when you pull away but haphazardly keep a slow pace with your fist around him, spreading your spit, his precum, and frosting across his length looking like some lewd scene you’d see in a poorly acted porn video.

You eat up, watching your boyfriend thrash and struggle not to cum all over your hand as you finish the donut you rightfully deserved. You lick your fingertips clean, sucking on them the same way you’d suck on his. Satoru narrows his eyes toward you when your eyes meet and you give him a cocky smirk. You release your tongue to lick the rest of the frosting off you, side eyeing him in the process to make sure he was watching the show you’re putting on.

“You’re cruel, you know that? So crue-aaahh—!” Your fist clamps around him, dragging over his sticky, wet skin and now it’s your turn to narrow your eyes.

“Maybe I’ll edge you all day, then. Maybe you don’t deserve to cum at all since you still don’t see this is all your fault.” Another squeeze but around his tip, your thumb flicking over the edge of the head, drawing out a slew of apologies.

“I-I’m sorry! It’s all my fault, I’m sorry! You’re right—haa— please just…I’m sorry. Let me cum, please!” You spit into your other hand, wrapping it around the base of him and both hands work up and down in haste and the room fills with filthy squelches. Should you let him cum? Surely not, he doesn’t deserve it. But he was so gorgeous when he finally found release, his skin burning red and legs trembling, toes curling…you couldn’t deprive yourself of such a sight.

Lowering your head again, you drag your lips over the tip of him and you let your tongue drag across the swollen head. Your words ghost over his skin as you speak and tighten your fingers around him.

“Cum for me, Satoru.” It was enough, it always was with him. He could hold out for you, he was the strongest after all. But the moment you gave him the okay and when your soft lips released him from the torture of holding out he was a force not to be reckoned with. His hips jerk upward, dipping his tip back into your mouth as hot spurts fill you up. The saltiness mixes with the sweetness of the chocolate and coats your entire mouth, you swallow some of it down only to be met with more ropes of cum filling you back up. Your hands help ride out his orgasm, gripping and sliding over the veins and squeezing near the top to help him release his passion. His hand grapples your hair to steady himself, his hips driving up and down, you lower your head to let him sink further into your mouth and suddenly your throat is swallowing around him. His cum pumps out of him with each thrust and once he begins to slow down you’re slowly raising your head, already missing the slickness of your throat, Satoru pouts and lets his head fall into the pillows.

Your hands lazily jerk him off, the last of his cum dribbles out of him and trickles down his softening erection. You press your cheek into his thigh, turning your head to give him a chaste kiss. Splaying your fingers over his pelvis and rubbing his lower stomach, feeling the ripple of his muscles as he still struggles to come down from his high. Satoru’s blood rushes in his ears and he barely registers your touch, his mind going blank after such a violent orgasm.

“We got five more rounds to go,” you mention, reaching over to flick the box back open to remind him of the five other chocolate donuts waiting to be eaten (or used as a sex toy in this case.) Satoru looks over to them, horror making his eyes widen at the realization that you were not joking in the slightest.

“But…I—“ He begins to plead but you cut him off.

“You owe me this.”

Why did he buy a whole dozen? Was he stupid?

This was going to be a long night…

#this is embarrassing #this fic is so funny to me #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #pepper writes #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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clovesnz · 2 months ago

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don’t really know how to write smut (finally edited this)

it's very heterosexual and also there is no actual spelled out sneezing. lots of nosefucky and snotfuckery. very self inserty for me. lots of uhhh dry humping? idk guys.

“Oh my god you can’t just sit there in front of me like that my horny brain is going to actually fucking explode”

He sits at the edge of the bed. She is leaned against the headboard, blushing in spite of herself as she watches him sniffle and scrunch his nose up and down, over and over, in an obvious exaggeration of what are, to be fair, very real allergy symptoms. He lets out a long, labored sniff and scrubs at his nose vigorously.

“What? What am I doing?”

His eyes are twinkling, mischievous. He’s watching her practically squirm. She can't take her eyes off his nose. It’s glowing pink from all the rubbing and irritation, and as she watches, he pinches it between two fingers and locks eyes with her, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, and wrings his hand back and fourth, producing an obnoxious, messy squelching noise.

“Stopppp oh my god you fucking evil bastard”

“Whatt why am I evil?”

He puts on an ironic grin of feighned innocence, eyes wide, lip slightly curled.

“I can’t help it. It’s just…” another sniff. Another theatrical scrub.

“...my nose”

“Oh my GOD no stop it”

She’s waving her hands in his direction, feebly attempting to shew his hands off of his nose. He really is laughing at her now, the fucking asshole, and she starts to laugh too. But he’s not gonna get away with it. She scoots towards him on the bed. They’re both completely cracking up now, and between breaths of laughter she struggles to grab hold of his hands, still going at his nose.

"You’re so…mean this is not…not…okay just…get...no no no, uh-uh… there”

She’s half on top of him, and has managed after a bit of a struggle to get his hands pinned behind his back, away from his itching nose. There. No more teasing. They are both grinning silly at each other, their faces close. Close enough that she can see a little dampness around his nostrils. But just as she’s going to kiss him, arms still holding him firmly in place, his face changes. His upper brow wrinkles, and he looks genuinely panicked enough that she loosens her grip in concern. She is about to ask what’s wrong, when he tilts his head up and takes in a sudden breath, and she realizes, completely entranced, that he’s fighting the urge to sneeze.

His teasing facade has completely disappeared, replaced with a frantic sort of embarrassed concern.

“Shit, I swear this wasn’t…I didn’t…”

It’s like she sees it in slow motion. He brings one hand to her side to brace himself, leans the other way, takes two more wavering breaths, and then lets out a harsh, wet sneeze into the back of his wrist. She feels her stomach drop, down, a sharp ache that pangs harder when he lowers his hand to reveal two strings of clear snot running from his nose. Holy shit. Her head rushes, and her heart races, and she just…stares, frozen.

“Sorry, does that make it un-sexy?”

He cringes down at his hand, face full of the self disgust of someone who's body has made a mess that they can’t control.

“What, no! I…sorry,”

She doesn’t know how to explain, but she also doesn’t want him feeling that way, because god, she would watch him do that all day if she could. She tries anyways,

“It got a little too real and my brain kinda short-circiuted”

But he just looks more concerned, for her now instead of himself. Fuck why can’t she get the words out right.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Too real how?" He looks down at his hand again, deciding that must be the culprit.

“Here I’ll go get something to -”

He makes to slide off the bed and grab the tissues on his desk, but she tugs him back to her by his shirt.

“No! No wait, please.”

He turns for her, and lets her take his hands, looking back down, eyes searching. She takes a calming breath, but before she can try to make words out of the paralyzing waves of desire coursing through her, another drip of snot slides out of his left nostril, and he winces, “Ugh, sorry,” and lets go of her and reaches a hand to swipe at it. But now her brain is working enough to send signals to her body, at least, and she stops his arm, firm but more gently than when he was doing it to tease her.

“...no.”

He obeys, and lets her pull him down to her level again. He’s holding her gaze, curious. Waiting. For her to explain, to communicate. Her whole body is shaking, just a little.

“Just…”

She reaches one hand up and cups his cheek for a moment, letting her thumb graze the very edge of the sparkling wetness covering his upper lip. He accepts the touch, leaning into it, but his eyes are still searching.

“Wh-”

Before he can ask, she lifts her other hand, and gently, methodically, the way someone might delicately run their finger over a beautiful piece of jewelry, touches the pooling snot with the tip of her pointer finger. She breathes in and shudders, her whole body zinging and tingling at the feeling of it on her fingers, and that’s when she can see it click for him.

“....oh.”

She takes another shuddering breath. She wants to do more, wants to swipe at his nose, to cover her fingers in his snot, to make him blow into them, to have it in her mouth, but it’s all so much and it’s so…it’s so odd, it’s got to be so add, to him, and now she’s too embarrassed to keep going but also too captivated to stop and she drops her hand a lets out a whimper of frustration that is maybe actually just neediness and he looks at her, just as enthralled. He’s not laughing anymore, he is all attention, his own breaths picking up pace with hers.

“Yeah?”

He’s asking her without asking. Yeah, you like me like this? You like all of it?

“....um. Yeah.”

His eyes sparkle, fiery and exited

“Oh, fuck, okay. What do you…what do you want me to do?”

It’s such an open-ended question, and a dozen deeply held fantasies, the kinds of things she never thought she'd ask of anyone, flood through her mind. But the thought of speaking to them is so scary, it’s so ingrained in her head that she’ll gross him out, that he’ll find it all too weird, and she feels that rising panic again, and it makes her want to stop all of this and curl up in a ball and hide.

“I’m..oh my god no I’m embarrassed”

She breaks away and falls back onto the bed, covering her face defensively, her cheeks prickling and burning in mortification. But he just follows, propping himself up over her, and some of her embarrassment vanishes as he lowers himself against her, because holy shit, apparently it’s not just her who is wildy, embarrassingly turned on right now. He leans down to one of her ears, and she feels the dampness of his upper lip pressed, purposefully, almost nuzzled, against her cheek as he whispers, not teasing this time but tantalizing, serious, like he’s daring her:

“Stop being embarrassed”

And it’s too much, he’s too good like this, she can’t…she wants it too badly. She groans and rocks into him, and when he gasps a little in response she catches his breath in her lips. She feels her whole body tingle and sparkle as she realizes she can taste the bit of salt still on his lips. She can’t help it - she whines, and thrusts against him again, and kisses him deeper, and steals herself and lets herself nip at his upper lip, and god when she does it she feels it, like really feels it, the snot smeared onto her own lip now. And she wants to do it again, wants it in her mouth, wants to have it, his cute red nose and his snot, so she kisses him there, right under his nose, and she feels him smile beneath her but he doesn’t flinch away, and it’s not enough so she does it again, and when he brings her back to his mouth it's encouraging, and kind of messy, and he breaks away by running kisses down her chin until his dripping nose is pressed up against her mouth. Now she’s not thinking, she’s not thinking at all she’s just wanting and so she nips at the tip of his nose and oh god she likes it so much, so she does it again but lets her tongue feel it too, and he just nuzzles into it so she lets her mouth explore. Nipping and his nostrils, gently squeezing them together with her teeth, running her tongue up his septum and around one nostril and then the other, peppering his upper lip with generous, licking kisses until all the snot there is gone, so she follows it’s path, slipping her tongue ever so slightly up to one nostril. She feels his nose twitch as she does it, and it sends a thrill through her body so she does it more, flicking it back and fourth at the opening of it. He gasps,

“You’re gonna make me…oh fuck I’m…”

And he leans to the side, disengaging to let out a forceful sneeze into his elbow. He stays turned away, frozen with his face turned upwards, building to another one.

“Hey - ”

She reaches for his crooked elbow, gently bringing it down from his face, and he catches her meaning and turns back to her right as it hits him, pitching forward into her chest with the force of the sneeze that spills out of him. Strings of snot wet the front of her t-shirt and she feels her hips thrust reactively at the pleasure of it.

“Fuck me, oh my sweetheart…” she coos, and he whimpers a little at the pet name and lets out snuffling little squeek as she presses into him harder, bold enough now to tenderly, adoringly swipe at the snot running from his twitching nose.

“Oh..fuck, oh my darling, can you do that again?”

And he does, bending forward into her again with the force of another sneeze, and holy shit she doesn’t know if her cunt can take it she's aching so badly but he’s so preoccupied, hitching and blinking and twitching, and when he starts getting close again he leans into her again but she doesn’t want to stop watching this time so she asks,

“Hey…look at me”

And he does, obedient, meeting her gaze and keeping it until his eyes are forced shut and he sneezes, barely turning away this time, misting her face in spittle and sniffling helplessly at the aftermath.

“Bless you”

She gasps, and his face is already crumpling again but he keeps himself level with her, and this time the spray is thicker and hits her face and god the way his whole body tenses and releases and his cock presses against her with the force of it and if he doesn’t start touching her she going to have to start touching herself.

“Uhhnn, bless you. Fuck, I-I can’t…this is…fuck”

He grins at her loss of composure, teasing again even as he fights back another sneeze, and she gasps and cries out a little as he moves against her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He laughs a little,

“Y-yeah?”

She just nods, yes, thrusting harder to emphasize the point, and god this is stupid why don’t they have their fucking clothes off already, and he’s still sniffling and hitching but he props himself on one arm and reaches to the button of her corduroy jeans and she can’t bare to wait for him to fumble with them one handed so undoes them herself and and slides them off, and he groans a little between hitches when he slides his hand under the waistband of her boxers and lets out a breath, like he's relieved to finally be there. She sucks in a breath as he begins to he tease the opening of her cunt, infuriatingly. She whines in protest and he obliges quickly, slipping two fingers inside of her and pulsing softly against her, all the while still hitching and blinking, building up to sneeze again, and she realizes after a few moments, in complete amazement, that he’s going at her harder the closer he gets to sneezing. She gasps,

“Keep… keep doing that”

And he does, faster and faster and then pulling up with his whole arm as his body shakes with it, spraying her in snot and spit and she cries out and begs, cause he’s got her so close and she needs more but he’s slowed again. He's slowed and she’ll have to wait, have to wait for the tickle to built up because that’s how this game works now. But two can play at that, so she reaches for the back of his neck, a little forceful in her want but he lets her, and she flicks her tongue against the opening of his nostril, fast, like she did before, and he matches the rhythm of it with his fingers. It’s getting faster, and she’s so fucking close with him on her and inside of her and under her tongue and she’s breathing so heavily it’s hard to keep her tongue moving but she does until he pulls back, only slightly, still going at her faster than her fucking vibrator, and his eyes flutter shut and oh god she wants it, wants to feel it, to hear it to see it to taste it and she does, right as she hits her peak, screaming out as he erupts once more, the spray landing against her open mouth, and she grabs for him desperately, ravenously, and kisses him, deep and sticky as she rides out her orgasm on his fingers.

**************

Epilogue: he pulls off her shirt and blows his nose in it and then she makes him do the same thing with his own shirt and then his pants and then her underwear and then she gets on top of him and fucks him while he sneezes all over himself but she stops before he cums and finishes him off with her hands so that she can see him make that much more of a mess of himself and then she takes him to the shower to get cleaned off and the sneezing has died down but they fuck again in the shower anyways and then she lovingly rubs soothing lotion around his irritated nostrils and forces him to take the Claratin she bought him because the whole thing started when he ran out and forgot to buy more. The end.

**************

anyways so yeah. sorrry for the weird formatting. ya girl used to read a novel every week back in high school but still doesn't know how to structure dialogue. if u read this i love you <333

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