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ohimsummer · 4 months

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GIRL, I NEED A TASTE ft. PUPPYBOY! SATORU

— minors dni, needy + lovesick + puppyboy! satoru x fem! reader, tít sucking, subby! satoru, humping (dryhumping??), breeding + creampie mentions

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ i went a little overboard writing this <//3 strongest ‘puppy-dog eyes’ user everyone

wc 1.4k

you give puppyboy! satoru an inch, and he will take several miles.

he’s ready to pounce on you 24/7: when you wake up, when you return home, when you’re fresh out of the shower, when you come back from a 5 minute bathroom break during movie night. it’s insane the way, if it were up to him, your pussy would never know peace.

in satoru’s “defense”, he can’t help wanting to stuff you full of himself all the time. he loves you, he’s in love with you and, in his eyes, what better way to show it than the overwhelming amounts of euphoria he could put you both through? satoru loves to give, give, give to you; his heart, his attention, his affections, and his cum at the end of it all.

you suppose his reasoning is understandable, more so from satoru’s point of view, but fucking every minute of every day isn’t sustainable—it’s only fair you tell him ‘no’ sometimes. and that’s when satoru brings out the theatrics: whining, crying, whimpering and complaining about how he’s “sooo harddd” and he’ll “be super quick”. fluttering snowy white lashes to beg with those woeful, blue, puppy-dog eyes, glistening with tears that he seems to be able to summon on a dime.

satoru flashes you the cutest pout as he presses himself up against you, grinding his bulge against your ass as he nuzzles and nips at your cheek. slow, impatient sways of a fluffy tail, the perk of those twitching, adorable ears whenever you cast him even a glance. satoru whispers a hopeful “pretty pretty please…just once?” as he licks at the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps from your neck to spine.

it doesn’t matter, really. he can do it all for as long as his heart desires, because in the end…

…it’ll get satoru exactly what he wants every time.

the movie you put on isn’t nearly as immersive as you’d hoped. and even if it was, satoru keeps pulling your attention away with every nip and lick to your thighs.

“toru.”, you deadpan, and he instantly weaponizes those wide, doe-like eyes of his. paired with a slight wag of his tail, a friendly gesture which he aims to placate with, and satoru has easily dodged your annoyance once more.

you brush off his bad habit with a sigh before your attention returns to the screen in front of you. and then, not even five minutes later, the sharp poke of his fangs sinks back into the fat of your thigh. it’s always steady and deliberate; satoru wants to see just how much you’ll allow before jabbing an irritated finger to his forehead in disdain. meanwhile, once he’s satisfied with the depth of his teeth, he sucks harshly at the skin, glancing between you and the newfound hickey now blooming. then he goes in again, quicker but that’s only because he’s expecting a sure-fire dose of your wrath this time.

“satoru—“

“look!” he interrupts, tail wagging eagerly. “bit ya in the shape of a heart, because i love you.” technically not a lie, but not the full truth, either.

and you’re so distracted with looking at satoru’s little sign of affection, which is indeed adorably heart-shaped, you forget altogether your reasoning for addressing him in the first place: to chide him again on biting you so hard—which is all part of his plan.

it takes no time before satoru has squeezed way more out of you than you meant to give. when you stopped warning him about the biting, he readjusted to “cuddle” you. his head is on your chest like always, hands on your hips, but they quickly dip underneath the hem of your shirt to knead at your waist. and then they’re slithering up further, grazing at your underboob before finally squeezing one of your breasts.

“satoru.” he cowers under the angry heat of your stare. “if i have to tell you one more time…”

his tongue darts out to lap at your exposed neck, causing you to wriggle at the needy gesture. “ ‘m sorry, they’re like my little stress balls. can I touch, please?”

and you shouldn’t have relented and said yes. of course you shouldn’t have, you knew that. if you agree to this, he knows now that you’ll agree to pretty much anything. but satoru stares at you with those dreamy eyes, gleaming with stars to whisk you away to a bad decision. it takes a single, pleading blink as he gives you a small squeeze, and you have fallen victim to his spell once again.

your shirt is pushed up hastily to expose your tits, leaving them subject to satoru’s merciless greed. he pinches, pulls, and tugs with both hands and mouth, sinking fangs into every inch of your breasts since he cannot stand to not see signs of himself on them. because he thinks you’re pretty, duh, but he thinks you’re prettier when your body is spotted up with the marks he loves to leave.

not long after, he’s shed you of your pants, tossed somewhere over the edge of the bed. what started off as a slow grind has turned to satoru’s bare cock humping your thigh, searing and sticky as he leaks a mess of precum all over your skin. just the sensation of it sends an aching rhythm of throbs to your core, your painfully empty hole sporadically fluttering around nothing.

in your mind—buried beneath thoughts of this dreadful movie and the excruciating desire to have satoru’s cock battering your insides—are the very last remnants of willpower you cling to. you can visualize clearly the smug look sure to grace his face if you whine a single plea about satoru fucking you. after all, you’re the one who was all ‘no sex right now, ‘toru’. if you can’t keep your word for even one night, you might be just as sex-crazed as he is.

there is a nonstop background noise of his tail thumping and sweeping against the bed. satoru’s wags haven’t let up since you gave your first yes, and only grow stronger with each new whimpered plea you yield to. they pick up with the pace of his thrusts, a beat to harmonize with the sinful song of his desperate whimpers right before gojo reaches another high—he lets loose a muffled cry into your chest, still pathetically humping your leg like a lovesick mutt as he gushes yet another pool of cum to coat your thighs and panties. after that, his wags ease up to a slow, easygoing thud, now overpowered by the raspy heaves of air he sucks into his lungs.

and it’s the same song and dance every time. satoru takes a few minutes to catch his breath, and then he’s ready for another round. from the corner of your eye, you notice those teary blues have locked on to you. he tests the waters, gradually rutting against you again, mouthing at your breasts to see if you’ll tell him ‘that’s enough, ‘toru’. he is pleased when the words never come, and his actions only grow bolder the longer you let it go on; he licks at your jawline, down your neck before placing a few nips here and there. tweaks your sore nipples between his thumb and index, plunging his dick harder and faster along your thigh for another repeat of the last few hours.

with each daring action over the course of the night, satoru has dragged you a little closer towards the edge with him. first it was pushing your top up, next, it was taking off your shorts. then, it was a bold move of pawing at your clothed pussy, which almost turned into his hand in your panties if you hadn’t pinched his ear and told him no. though, he could just as easily get you to let him anyway if he asks in that very sweet voice of his, the one he always uses when he longs for something from you.

“can I take off your panties?”, satoru finally asks, tilting his head to stare you right in the face.

you won’t meet his eye, and he knows you won’t. because both of you know if you do, he will quickly shred that last bit of self-control at the tips of your fingers. a single bat of his lashes and you’ll be nodding your head, raising your hips so he can tear away your underwear. and then it will only be a matter of time before satoru’s pinning you down to stuff his cock in your walls as deep as you can take. it’s all he wants, all he craves. but as long as you avoid looking into his alluring eyes, you may hold off satoru and his contagious desires for just a little longer.

tagz: @blkkizzat @teddybeartoji @lxnarphase @hellkaiserinphoenix @cinnamoneve @satoruxsc @rosso-seta @sapphireandange @starlightanyaaa @manyno @sugu-love @leilalilox @sataraxia @apatauaia @luvvforliaa @purplegemadventures @v0ctin @kissesfrombelle @babytoshiii @biscuitsngravie @neptuneblue @staryukis ( HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN LOGANNNNNN😼😼‼️‼️💚🩵💛💚🩵💛💚🩵💛💚🩵)

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sanatomis · 3 months

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⋆౨ৎ˚ ──── 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄.

it's been on your mind for a while now. and, even though he's a little confused at first, it takes satoru very little time to warm up to your enticing offer.

დ content. fr3e use kink, cursing, female!reader, fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, consensual somnophilia, deepthroating, cum-swallowing, mentions of satoru eating it from the back <3

დ notes. second attempt at posting this on tumblr, don't mind me. it's crossposted on ao3 bc my previous attempts at posting all failed miserably (it never showed in the tags ://)

Satoru is confused. It doesn’t take you much time to notice that your softly spoken words have him quite rattled, as the results of them can so clearly be observed on his face. There’s his nose that scrunches up cutely, and a little tilt of his head to the left which comes accompanied by a few snowy strands of hair shifting across his forehead. A small furrow of his brows, the soft gnawing on his bottom lip. He’s thinking about it; mulling over your offer.

Three times, he tries to say something. His mouth opens once, twice, and it’s futile. Not a word escapes, and he takes a sharp intake of breath. You almost believe that, if you weren’t currently seated opposite him, he’d smack the side of his head a few times to make sure it’s still screwed on right.

“So, I just. . .” The third time really is the charm, it seems. Though, he never quite manages to finish what he was going to say.

“Just put it in, yeah.”

You finish it for him, you’re sweet like that. It does really seem as if he could use the help.

“Wh—whenever I. . .”

There’s a little voice in your head, chiming and chattering about how all of this is weird. It makes you nervous, and your fingers itch to play with your necklace to fight it.

“Whenever you want,” you confirm. It’s as if your heart has suddenly moved to your throat.

“Wha—what if you’re asleep?”

“I said whenever you want, didn’t I?”

He almost lets out a little squeak at the words you so casually give him. They surprise him, as they do you. Your last sentence wasn’t one spoken by your mind, and you shift in your seat as if it’d shush the part of you that did.

It’s as if you’re telling him what you’d eaten for breakfast this morning, not giving him permission to slip, bully and sheat his cock into your needy cunt at any given time of the day. Without needing to ask, too. Satoru can fill you up, stuff you full, and dump so much of his cum into you until you’re overflowing, and he can do it whenever he feels the need to—because he’s Satoru, and you love your Satoru.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a hint of apprehension laces his voice. Your heart almost swells at his concern, at his hesitancy and need to confirm your wishes; even if you’ve vocalised them so bluntly. “Maybe, think about it for a little long—”

“I have,” you interrupt him. As gentlemanly as he’s being, there’s no mistaking the darkening of his eyes. The pretty, baby-blues making way for something sinister. You suddenly don’t feel so nervous anymore. “I have thought about it. Way too much, and for way too long.”

A string of curse words tumble past his lips. They’re hushed, and quick, and from the way he, too, shifts in his seat you gather that he’s hard. Painfully so, if the bulge forming in his pants is anything to go by. Your relationship has existed long enough for you to know that drops of his pre-cum are staining the fabric of his boxers already—always so messy, your Satoru. The mere thought has you wanting to take him out, to put him in your mouth and lap at the sticky, white beads falling down his length.

“Please,” you plead softly, and watch how he stifles a groan at the needy, saccharine sound of it. You want more, more of that sound. Right next to your ear, preferably. “Use me, Satoru.”

There’s little you want more than that, little that arouses you more than that. The thought of Satoru taking you whenever he wishes, abiding by his whims and allowing him free-reign over your body—it instils a heat into your stomach, into your core. It makes you feel filthy, like a cheap whore picked up from the street; but you’d be his whore, and suddenly it all starts to feel like a dream. It’s Satoru. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. He’ll be gentle, and he’ll be kind, and he’ll stop as soon as you utter your safeword, and he’ll love you so much, even if he fucks you as if he doesn’t.

You have half a mind to ask him again, to plead, to beg for it again, as it almost feels as if he didn’t quite hear you. But, as soon as you open your mouth to do so, he immediately latches his lips onto yours. It’s messy, and sloppy, and entirely fueled by the frantic state his mind is currently in—but you don’t complain, and never will.

His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at the same time, and you feel him almost buzzing with excitement. Your teeth clash against one another at the force of the kiss, your tongues greedily seek the other out, and saliva gets swapped from your mouth to his, and vice versa. It’s dirty, and sticky, and almost brings you back to your high-school years, when he’d been all clumsy hands and feigned confidence on the night you’d lost your virginity to each other.

Satoru pulls back from your kiss first, and a small smile falls over his lips when he notices you chasing him. “Wait a minute, sweets,” he murmurs, forehead against yours. His breathing is heavy, as is yours, and you don’t want to wait a minute—you want him, now, tomorrow, and each day after that. “Are you. . .” He chuckles when you kiss him again, and again, and again. You only stop when he holds your head in place. “Are you completely sure about this?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Mhm,” you hum, and caress his cheekbone with one of your thumbs. Satoru melts in your hold, as he always seems to do. “‘S you, ‘Toru. I’m completely sure when it’s you.”

He lets out a shaky breath. There’s a storm of emotion behind his eyes, but all of them point to the same conclusion—he loves you. So much, you might even get sick of it one day; he’d told you as a joke, one born out of fear. But you won’t. You never will. And you think he’s starting to realise it, finally.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your forehead.

It’s delicate, and loving, and so opposite from the way he buries himself into you over, and over, and over again a mere five minutes after that. Satoru’s needy, and impatient, and so pent-up from your previous conversation that foreplay gets thrown out of the window.

He bends you over the couch first, that cute little ass of yours jiggling right in front of his face as he mounts you from behind. He slips in easily, with a pussy as wet as yours, and a cock as leaky and hard as his—the lack of foreplay almost goes unnoticed. Almost, of course, as the sheer size of him never fails to elicit a hint of a burn as he stretches you out. Nevermind that you take his cock daily, or that your walls are bound to carry his shape after the many years you spend with him.

The sounds that decorate your apartment are filthy, lewd, and borderline obscene, but you’re thoroughly obsessed with them. The slapping of his balls against your ass, the squelching with each passing thrust, the deep groans and choked whimpers Satoru releases next to your ear just like you wanted. Even your own moans, your own babbles, and your own whines add to the experience; the combination of sounds. And you love it, because it’s you, and it’s Satoru—and it’s the two of you together.

It doesn’t end after Satoru cums, nor does it after you do. The agreement between the two of you that was made tonight seems to have done a number on him, and he takes you a second time. On the balcony, where he puts you on display for the world to see as he fills you over and over again. And a third time, in your shared bed that’s never been safe from his affection and blatant desire towards you. And a fourth time, in the shower that was initially meant to clean you up, he decides to dirty you even further.

If this is the reaction he gives to the mere idea of using you whenever he pleases, you long for the time that he actually does.

It’s well past midnight when Satoru finally decides he’s done with you. You’re curled into his side, a shirt that’s way too large for you (but one that you swore you didn’t steal from him) covers your figure. You’re asleep. Tired, exhausted, and completely knocked out. He smiles. You’re so cute. A love-sick expression is stuck to his face, and it may very well become permanent if he stays looking at you.

One of his fingers reaches in-between your thighs, gently scooping up the remnants of his release. Satoru almost coos at the way your nose scrunches up cutely when he starts to finger it back into your pussy. It allows his digits to slip easily through your folds, and she sucks them in as soon as he reaches your hole. His cum doesn’t leak out this time. Not yet, anyway, but even if it does, he’s more than willing to repeat the process.

He sighs. Mind full of thoughts, but at least his balls are empty now. There’s a little huff escaping his lips, and he’s amused at his own comment. Satoru shakes his head, but the small smile remains nonetheless. Strong, yet gentle arms pull your body tighter against him.

You’re delicate, and sweet, and so precious to him; and he will do his best to take care of you. Use me, use me, use me. He kisses your forehead, his own eyes falling shut.

He will most certainly try to.

The very first time Satoru entertains the idea of indulging in your offer, is on a day where you’ve decided to wear his favourite lipgloss. It’s so shiny, such a cute shade, and makes you look so beautiful, but above all—it’s sticky. It’s sticky, and easily smudged, and he knows from experience that everything feels so much filthier when he steals a kiss from you with it on.

Without meaning to, thoughts of you wrapping those glossed lips around his dick, creating a mess made-up of spit, cum, tears, and thus that delightful stickiness from your lipgloss, enters his mind. The coloured shade will leave a perfect ring around his length, there’s no doubt in his mind. Your pretty face will be all dirty, smudged stains near the corners of your mouth courtesy of his fat cock. You will be a sight for sore eyes.

You’re talking to him, but Satoru can’t seem to listen. He’s enamoured by your lips, your soft-looking, plumb, and very glossed lips. He briefly feels pathetic, knowing that a mere make-up item has the ability to make his head spin to such a degree—but he doesn’t, as he quickly realises it only does so because it’s you that’s wearing it.

Fuck, he really wants to stuff his cock into your mouth.

Five, six, almost seven seconds pass before the realisation kicks in. If he wants to put his cock in your mouth, then he can. Satoru’s body moves on its own before he gets a chance to think about his actions, as is often the case with him, and it's not long before his large hand finds its new home on the back of your head. He falters briefly, watching how you quiet down, how your eyes widen slightly, but continues as he’s doing when you make absolutely no move to stop him when he gently guides your head down, and down, and down—until you’re right where he wants you.

A small gasp leaves your lips when he puts you on eye-level with his crotch. It’s quiet, and he almost didn’t hear it, but it makes him pause nonetheless. The hand on your head loosens its grip, and he hesitates as he looks down at you.

“Is this oka—”

The sentence never gets finished, forever interrupted by a sharp hiss as you take his cock out of his pants with such unabashed eagerness. It slaps against his abdomen, leaky tip staining the fabric of his shirt. Your previous conversation is all but forgotten, it seems, as you don’t waste a second in taking his hard, aching length almost entirely into your mouth. It all happens so quickly, and Satoru’s mind almost can’t keep up. All he did was think about filling your mouth, and now he’s actually doing it; the fat tip prodding near the back of your throat.

His hands are shaky, he notices, and so is his breathing as a small whine escapes when one of your hands goes downwards to play with his balls. “Fuck!” he curses, caught by surprise at the boldness with which you reached for that part of him. In his startle, his hands return to the back of your head, and your words make their impromptu return to the very front of his mind.

Use me.

He will, then.

Satoru isn’t at all gentle when he does. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he pushes you down onto his cock until your nose brushes against the soft, white hairs near his pelvis. Your poor little mouth is struggling, he can see, but he can’t seem to pay much mind to it; the sounds of you gagging around his thick length are too much of a pleasure to hear. The way he pushes you up-and-down nears the realm of brute force, and still you eagerly suck, and suck, and suck.

A particularly loud groan echoes through the room when he steals a glance at your small form kneeling between his legs. It seems he knows you well; you are a sight for sore eyes like this. There are tears in your eyes, and some of them have already fallen down your hollowed cheeks; hollowed, to make space for him. Your mouth is filled to the brim with his cock, and even though he can see you fighting for breath, you never make an attempt at catching it—as if you wouldn’t dare to deprive him of the please your throat gives him.

Satoru catches himself falling in love all over again.

He fucks your face harder, and harder, and harder the closer he gets to the edge. Deep groans, and slurred curse words join your symphony of muffled moans, and his hold on your head slowly starts to falter.

“‘M close, princess,” he mumbles, but that’s about all the warning he gives you. A few seconds later, he cums down your throat. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t need to. Not because you’d given him permission to use you as he sees fit, but simply because he knows you’re utterly obsessed with him doing so. “Fuck, f—fuck, look a’you, hm? Gonna take all of it like a good girl? Don’t waste it, m’kay? S’all for, fuck, for you.”

It’s something he’s done countless times before, but Satoru swears that each time he spills his cum down your throat feels better than the last. Thick, sticky ropes fill your mouth, and you hum around him when it keeps going, and going, and going. You’re struggling to take it all, and he huffs in amusement when bits of it start to drip down your chin. His thumb catches it, and he quickly places it back in your mouth, forcing you to open it wider to accommodate both the digit and his slowly softening cock. You happily do so.

He pulls out of you shortly after, with his chest heaving as he recuperates. His entire focus is on you, you, and you as he watches you wipe your mouth and swallow the last of his seed. There’s a smile on your face. It’s kind, and gentle, and innocent; almost as if he hadn’t just fucked your mouth and dumped his release down your throat. Satoru is utterly bewitched as he watches you, captivated by all and every little thing you do, and he cooperates as you tuck him back into his pants.

And then, as if nothing at all happened, you sit down next to him again—and you speak, you continue talking, finishing the story he’d interrupted with his need to be sucked off. Your voice is hoarse, and your cheeks are still stained with dried tears, but you pay neither of those facts any mind. It makes all of this look so. . . mundane. You were speaking, and then you were between his legs, and now you’re speaking again.

Satoru’s heart starts to beat even faster for you. Fuck, that’s so hot. This time, he decides to try his very best to listen to your tale about some co-worker of yours that pissed you off this week. He pitches in every-now-and-then, adding a low ‘huh,’ or ‘mhm’ to keep you occupied, and he almost feels guilty—guilty, because all his adrenaline-filled mind can think about are the future possibilities of using you.

“And, wanna know what’s the worst thing about the situation? It was my idea to get donuts for everybody! That harlot didn’t even want them initially.”

Satoru’s downward spiral is inevitable, and he finds himself falling victim to it more times than one would consider healthy in a mere seven days. He very quickly learns that he’s thoroughly obsessed with the notion that allows him to fill you up anywhere, and at any time. To him, it’s one of the highest honours.

There’s such confidence, such unwavering faith encompassed in your view of him. There has to be, if you’re willing to allow him such a thing. Thinking about it almost causes a cute pink hue to colour his cheek. . .you really do trust him a lot, huh?

He’s never been able to tell you ‘no’ before, and he certainly isn’t about to start. So, he dutifully listens to you and abides by your delectable request. To satisfy you, of course. There’s absolutely no other reason for his actions, and the way he breaches your dripping cunt with his leaky tip, all while soft breaths leave your lips, and your pretty eyes are peacefully shut, is simply to indulge you.

Use me. Use me. Use me.

Satoru curses, the crude words that tumble past his lips being plenty colourful. One of his hands settles on your hip whilst the other hikes your (or rather his) shirt up to provide him with better access. It’s your fault, really, that he’s currently sporting one of the hardest boners of the century. You were waiting for him, weren’t you? Waiting for him to return and bury himself to the hilt in that sweet, sobbing pussy of yours.

There’s no other reason for you to fall asleep with nothing but his shirt on. Not even panties covered your cute little cunt, your sticky folds fully on display and welcoming him home. Satoru wants to bury himself in it—in a multitude of ways if he’s being truly honest with himself. For now, though, he’ll stick to simply one.

“Shh,” he coos into your ear, delicately rubbing soft circles into your upper thigh with his thumb. You whine faintly, feeling his cock fight its way past your walls. He splits you open, stretching you just wide enough to slip inside. Your nose scrunches up cutely, and he almost rouses you from your slumber. “‘S me, really need you, baby.”

And that’s all he has to say. It’s me. It’s your Satoru. A gentle whisper of those words, and he gets to use you as he pleases. All of his previous worries, all of the near-boiling anger he felt at his previous meeting with the higher-ups washes away as soon as he sinks himself balls-deep into your pussy. Satoru groans deeply at the feeling, and gentle, stuttered declarations of love are babbled into your ear with each slow drag of his cock along your walls.

The garbled mesh of words that he deems too important not to say, even despite their poor enunciation, only ceases to exist a few minutes later—when he spills his heavy load into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. No, into that sweet cunt of his. Because, that’s who it truly belongs to, no? It’s his, to use, to spoil, to worship. You’d offered it to him so kindly, after all. And, well, Satoru has never been the type of person to turn down a gift.

. . . You unknowingly create a monster. It seems that even the mere idea of being allowed to use you as he pleases has him tip-toeing around the line of borderline insanity. As each time he sees you, he wants you. . .and each time he wants you, you let him.

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing at that moment. Even if you’re speaking, and he suddenly feels the need, no, the simple want for a blowjob. And even if you’re asleep, resting after what must have been a long day, you still allow him to slip his aching cock into you to satisfy the craving he’s had for hours.

Even if you’re busy setting the table, you don’t push him away, and you still allow him to bend you over the wooden surface, to sink to his knees and lick, suck, and kiss around his pretty pussy with his tongue. Simply because he wants to do it, and you really do so, too.

. . .And even now, when you’re cooking dinner.

There’s a certain cuteness about the way your brows scrunch in concentration, about the way you gently bite on your bottom lip as you prepare the food for the two of you; it nearly makes him feel guilty for feeling the secret desire to ruin such a lovely, innocent view. The word nearly is important, however, as he’s acutely aware of your need for him to do exactly that—and so, any sense of wrongdoing melts away, similar to snow underneath the sun.

He’s not quite sure what it is that you’re cooking, but it smells delectable. There’s an array of spices, herbs, and vegetables strewn around the counter, and Satoru knows he’ll be eating like a King in a few minutes. As for right now, though, there’s a different craving, a different type of hunger slowly making its way forward. He fears it won’t be one that’ll be sated by your lovely culinary skills.

“Smells good, baby,” he mumbles. It doesn’t take him long to settle himself behind you, large hands gently coming to rest on your hips. He sighs in the crook of your neck, and nudges the skin with his nose. “What’cha making?”

You answer. He knows you do, as he feels the vibrations of your voice underneath his lips, the soft hum feeling quite soothing as he kisses along the column of your throat, but Satoru can’t find it in himself to focus on the words you give him. His ever-loose hands roam eagerly down your body, and the previous loving, and delicate kisses along your neck turn sloppy, wet, almost, as Satoru dips one of his hands underneath the waistband of your panties. There’s a grin forming on his lips, one entirely too big and full of confidence.

“‘M startin’ to think you’re just always wet for me, pretty girl,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, fingers entirely coated in your slick the second he’d sunk them into your dripping cunt.

Your cheeks heat up, and you try to stifle a moan when he, so very, very slowly starts to move his fingers in-and-out of you. “I—I am,” you admit, and clench around his digits just as he’s about to take them out; as if it’s a last resort to keep them inside. “F’you, Satoru. Just for you.”

“Hm?” He hums, and almost huffs in amusement as he sees you trying to continue what you were doing so desperately, as if you weren’t being fucked on your husband’s fingers. Just for that—he rapidly thrusts his fingers back into you, harsher, deeper, and so much quicker. “Just for me, yeah, princess?”

“Y—Ah! Yes, yes,” you squeak, one of your hands seeking out some semblance of support from the kitchen counter. “Only for you.”

There’s an embarrassing sound hitting your ears, as each thrust of his absurdly long fingers is accompanied by your wetness squelching around them. You struggle to speak, to breathe almost, as he fucks you on his fingers. Satoru stretches you out, curling his fingers to find the spot he knows will leave you with those pretty tears falling down your cheeks, and to hit it over, and over, and over again.

There’s such a heat gathered between your legs, such a pleasurable source of warmth, and Satoru suppresses a groan as he’s once again made very aware of that fact when your walls clench around his digits. His cock twitches, and he lets out a shaky sigh as he grinds it against your ass. “You are, aren’t you? Hm? C’mon, baby, don’t be shy. . .be a little louder.”

You aren’t shy. You haven’t been for a while now. There’s a certain hotness in the way you moan so unabashedly, so utterly shamelessly whenever Satoru gets his hands on you in such a way—it’s as if you can’t ever get enough of him. It never fails to harden his cock even more, to make his balls feel achingly heavy until he ultimately empties them inside your tight little cunt. And you know so, which is exactly why you do it.

“‘M not,” you rasp out, one of your hands coming to rest on his wrist. The back of your head falls against his shoulder as you choke on a moan, seeking some very necessary aid to stay upright. “Please, I. . .’Toru, please.”

In all honesty, Satoru isn’t quite sure what you’re begging for. He knows it’s one of two options: either to cum on his fingers, or for him to push his thick cock inside your pussy already. There’s no desire to ask, however—he’d much rather make that decision himself. The hand that wasn’t currently burying three of its digits knuckle-deep into your pussy busies itself with his belt-buckle.

There’s a pitiful whine falling from your lips, one that’s released immediately upon the removal of his fingers from your cunt. “Shh,” he coos in your ear, instantly soothing your upcoming tantrum. You stifle the complaint you’d prepared for him, the feeling of his fat tip prodding near your too-eager hole quickly puts an end to it. “S’okay, pretty girl, just wanna feel you cum around my cock, s’all. . .Think you can do that for me?”

You nod, and rapidly so. “Mhm,” you hum, and open your mouth when he presents it with his soiled fingers. You clean them, suckling around them until each bit of your sweetness is gone. “Want to—really wanna cum around your cock, ‘Toru.”

“Of course, you do,” he breathes, and captures a quick kiss. And another. And another. And one more. It makes you smile, and that, in turn, makes him smile. When he does pull back, there’s as much love as there is lust dancing in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less of you, princess.”

Satoru is often greedy. There’s no such thing as savouring something with him—if he’s enjoying himself, he’ll be as gluttonous as he wishes. The exception is you, of course, as you always are to him. There’s no greater feeling than savouring you. It’s why he, more often than not, decides to fill you up slowly. To let his cock drag along your walls, to let your soothing warmth engulf him inch, by inch, by inch, until his firm balls press up against your ass. He does so this time, too.

Your long, drawn-out moan as he fills you up slowly sounds as if it were gifted to him by the Heavens, and Satoru’s cock twitches inside when he hears you mutter a soft fuck as you struggle to adjust to him. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve taken his cock, but the sheer girth of him still stretches you out—as it always does. Your husband loves you dearly, however, and waits. . .one second, two seconds, three seconds, and he doesn’t get any further before his self-restraint falters.

Satoru nearly pulls himself out of your cunt completely, only for him to fuck himself back inside so deeply—it has you place both palms of your hands on the counter to steady yourself. It startles you, as he hears you choke on a moan, but he continues. His movements are quick and rough, animalistic even, as he pounds into your cunt.

“Sa—ngh, Satoru, wait, I. . .” You interrupt yourself with a moan, the feeling of his tip near your cervix too sharp for you to properly finish a sentence. He’s so deep. It feels as if he’s in your womb, in your stomach—it feels as if he’s everywhere. “Fuck, I. . .f—fuck, ‘Toru. . .”

“Hm?” He breathes out, a groan slipping past his lips. “Want me to, fuck, you. . .” His rapid movements dial down. The self-control needed for it is enormous, but you’d asked him to wait—so he will. Some beads of pre-cum drip into your cunt, as if his cock was upset that he’d suddenly slowed down. “Wan’me to go slower, baby?”

“No,” There’s a small whine near the end of your sentence. It’s the absolute last thing you wanted him to do, even if you originally asked him to wait. “No, don’t, please, keep going. Need—need more.” You feel Satoru wrap both hands around your hips, as if he’s preparing for something. “Harder, please. . .”

“Harder?” He asks, and you don’t need to see him to know there’s currently a sense of smugness ruining his pretty face. “How hard do you want it, huh, sweets?”

Little more than the tip remains inside you, and there’s not a moment for you to mourn the loss of his entire girth—as all air leaves your lungs when he immediately thrusts back into you with a newfound vigour, with such force that it has you bend over the kitchen counter.

“Like, ah, like this, huh? That how you want it, angel?”

You don’t answer—you’re not able to, as Satoru uses the entirety of his thick length to steal your ability to speak coherently. Once again, you’re acutely aware of the sheer size of your husband. Satoru is tall, and big, and he likely isn’t even aware of it. It certainly doesn’t seem so, as he heads no mind to the way your feet are starting to lift off the floor. Each deep thrust has you inching further up the counter; his hands on your hips nearly holding you up and off the floor as he rocks into you from behind.

There’s little you can do, except take it.

The kitchen is filled with sounds that definitely do not belong there. Your wetness is prominent, the sound of it borderline embarrassing, and Satoru’s balls slap against your skin with each thrust. He’s relentless, and you want to cry. The good kind of crying; the kind that often comes accompanied with mind-numbing pleasure. You hiccup, and sniff, and try your best to stabilise yourself against the counter.

Though, your efforts prove futile once Satoru brings one of his hands to your front. You choke on a whimper as he cruelly pinches your clit, toying with it, flicking and rubbing it in the way he knows will get you off.

“T—Toru,” you warn him. “I—I’m. . .”

“Mhm,” he hums in acknowledgement, not letting up even for a second. There’s a featherlight kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Me too, princess. S’okay, let, shit, let go for me, yeah?”

And because he’s Satoru—your Satoru, you comply. It hits you all at once, and you’re suddenly very grateful for both your husband holding you upright, and your expensive kitchen counter for adding some extra support. You’re still breathing heavily, coming down from your high, when Satoru hits his own. It’s a familiar feeling, but one you’ll never grow tired of nonetheless.

You sigh in content. His cum fills you up rapidly, and to the brim. It’s hot, and thick, and trickles out of you even with him still inside—simply because there’s so much of it. The both of you are out of breath, and because of it, choose to stay within each other’s hold for just a little while longer.

Satoru could—and would—stay in this position for the rest of his life. . .but he’s quite sure that you’ve put a lot of effort in today’s dinner and he doesn’t want it to be for naught. With a deep sigh and a quick kiss to your cheek, he goes against every fibre of his being, and pulls out of you.

A shiver trails down your spine when he does so, and you let out a soft sigh in content. You’re still recovering, he notices. There’s a trail of his cum dripping out of you, though he wastes little time to push it back inside. Satoru takes matters into his own hands, and decides to place your panties back into place for you, too. It gets soiled by his seed rather quickly, but that’s a problem for later.

After smoothing down your skirt, he tucks himself back into his pants, as well. He’s by your side as quick as he can, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple.

It’s only then that he properly takes notice of all the stuff that’s been thrown around the kitchen. Pots, pans, vegetables, spices. It seems you really were busy.

And, as if he hadn’t just finished fucking you silly, he smiles.

“So, what are you making?”

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #sigh here we go attempt 209401 #please let it show in the tags this time #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader smut

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jasmineoolongtea · 2 months

Text

― test drive ⭑.ᐟ

― the ways in which they drive you (crazy) ⋆⭒˚.⋆

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, choso x gn!reader, toji x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, the term passenger princess is used but is not gender specific, nicknames (baby, darling, my dear, love, doll), kissing, fluff, slight crack for some, jjk men and their driving habits (stay safe on the road guys jhdshdj) a/n: title is based on test drive by ariana grande and i wrote this to celebrate me getting my driver's license so yipeeee !!! this is much longer than i was expecting it to be (especially for a headcannon/drabble) so sorry for the delay on my behalf, as always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciate and much love from me to you all <33

gojo satoru fights with you over who gets to be passenger princess loves to take you out for spontaneous drives whenever and wherever that you begin to question if this might be a secret addiction or guilty pleasure of his.

(his real secret addiction is just you but it doesn't take a detective to figure that out)

"hop in!" he shouts as he arrives at your front door in a shiny white convertible. it seems that he's decided to whip out an old classic of his, though you can't deny that he keeps you on your toes whenever he pulls up in a new or different ride seemingly every time he picks you up.

you wonder to yourself what he does with all his other cars in that massive collection of his.

"we're going on a trip to the beach you've been telling me about for weeks and plus, i already booked a hotel suite for us." he announces eagerly and though his eyes are currently covered by a pair of black sunglasses, you know that they're practically glimmering with palpable excitement. he opens his hand towards you as his way of beckoning you to come along with him.

you take his hand and he pulls you towards his side to the point where you're almost resting atop his door before he presses his lips against your intertwined hands in a lingering kiss.

"toru, is this a cry for help? are you on the run from something?" you joke, a look of mild amusement on your features, and he rolls his eyes light-heartedly at you.

"please, baby?" he slides up his sunglasses so that they're perched up on his snowy white locks and looks up at you with those big puppy-dog eyes that you know you could never ever say no to no matter how ridiculous the request was.

you silently think over his proposition for a moment.

looking up to the sky, you notice that today is a particularly sunny day and despite the sun being smack dab in the middle of the sky, it also wasn't boiling hot on account of the light breeze which made this a special type of sunny day that was a once in while occurrence for summertime. to be fair, it had also been a while since you and satoru went out anywhere together on account of your clashing schedules so it wasn't necessarily the worst thing to be spending some time off with him.

(you also wouldn't mind the sight of him shirtless on the beach but that was a different conversation to be had)

you look back at him and after careful consideration on your behalf, decide to indulge in this whim of his.

"okay, fine but did you-"

"yep, i already made all the arrangements so it's all cleared up for the two of us." he cuts you off smoothly with a cheeky wink.

"i don't want you stressing about anything in that head of yours, alright?" as if to punctuate his point, satoru lightly taps on your forehead which earns him a small smile and a soft shove to the shoulder from you.

you quickly head in to grab some stuff from your place before returning outside and jumping into the passenger seat. he leaps out of his seat and over the hood of the car to open the door for you before you can even reach for the handle and you sink in comfortably into the expanses of the plush leather seat beneath you.

"you better make this worth it, mister." you remark playfully at him. he returns the smile on your face with one of his own as he leans over to place a deep kiss against your lips, taking his time to savour the taste of you on his tongue.

"trust me, baby. i'll make it worth your while."

geto suguru always makes you his designated passenger princess when driving. no matter what vehicle it is, be it a car, motorcycle, or even a bicycle (you're still not sure how he managed to do that), suguru has seemingly decided that the title of passenger princess belongs to you and only you.

he takes this so seriously that he even goes so far as to specifically reserve the front seat for you in any vehicle he's driving in and makes sure that you're the only one who can sit there. just ask satoru, who unfortunately had to learn that the hard way when he tried to call shotgun one time on a road trip and was chased off by suguru who went to the extent of blocking the door to the front seat until you arrived which he graciously opened the door for you whilst also sending satoru a warning stare.

now, this isn't because he doesn't trust your skills, he does wholeheartedly and would gladly put his life in your hands. it's just that he thinks that you deserve to relax and that you deserve the princess treatment at all times (his words, not yours).

of course, if you do want to drive, he'll let you but he always insists on helping you out in any way that he can even if it is the smallest things like clipping on your seatbelt for you before surprising you with a fleeting kiss against your cheeks, though the sensation is gone before you know it and you're left wondering if it really just happened.

he always does it in a way that's so subtle that by the time you notice, it's already too late and he just smiles at you with an oh-so-innocent look on his face that makes it impossible to even accuse him of any wrongdoing, although this wasn't really a wrongdoing in most senses of the word per se.

though, it seems that this time, you're able to catch him red-handed in the act.

as the car pulls into the parking spot, you make a move to reach for the handle to open the door on your side when suddenly, it seems that someone has apparently beaten you to the punch.

you pause for a moment as your brain attempts to catch up with what has apparently just transpired.

"sugu, wasn't my hand on there?" you ask, quickly flicking your eyes back and forth from where you were sure where your hand used to be and where suguru's hand was now residing.

"hmm?" he raises a curious eyebrow in your direction, as if completely oblivious to his own actions. "oh, i'm not sure what you're talking about, darling." he remarks, brushing off your concern in a nonchalant manner as he leans over to unbuckle your seatbelt for you.

"suguru." you chide, there's a warning edge to your words as you cross your arms at him. thinking about it now, you're definitely sure that it was suguru who moved your hand out of the way just so he could open it for you.

it's not that you were necessarily mad about him doing this, quite the opposite in fact as you can't deny the way he makes your heart flutter whenever he goes out of his way to treat you like royalty, but rather, you're more interested in finally being able to get a confession from the ever elusive geto suguru.

he stops for a second, as if to weigh up the options in his mind, before a small sigh escapes his lips as he reaches over to gently caress your cheek. "i'm just saying that why do you need to do something so small when i'm here to do it for you."

maybe it's the way you seemingly become putty in his hands or the velvety cadence of his voice that you're pretty sure could convince people to walk into a wall without them even realising or perhaps it's just him, but you find yourself hard-pressed to try and come up with any sort of rebuttal on your end so you settle for a silently 'humph' of defeat.

a soft chuckle escapes him at your response. he presses his lips against your temple before tilting his head ever so slightly sideways so he can get a better look at you. "if you really don't like it, i'll stop. but, if you don't mind, then just let me treat you, alright darling?"

nanami kento might just be the best (and most distracting) driving teacher you could ever ask for.

it wasn't that you didn't know how to drive, you did, but rather, you wanted to get better at it because you always felt a slight pang of guilt whenever you noticed how he would occasionally try to fight off a small yawn when you're in the car with him. you know how much his job drains him already so you're honestly just worried that he might be overexerting himself when he should be trying to take the time to catch up on some much-needed rest instead.

when you originally approached him with this idea, he tried to reassure you that there was nothing to worry about and that he was fine.

"really, my dear, it's no trouble. you know i enjoy driving you around." he insists, an arm curling up around your figure as you nestle into his embrace one friday evening on your living room couch.

"that's not the point, kento." you pout slightly as you gaze up at him from your position. you gently run your finger underneath his eyes as you take in just how dark his eyebags appear to be. "just think of it as me wanting to help lighten some of your burdens when you're tired, that's all."

he rests his chin upon the crown of your head, silently mulling over your request for a moment in his head before agreeing. "alright then, but don't think i'll go easy on you, dear."

you giggle softly at his answer, brushing off his words as a joke before you lean in for a kiss.

you should have really paid attention then.

true to his words, it seems that kento was really making true to his promise as you have never met someone this meticulous and so dedicated to all the small details when it came to driving in general. hell, this might even be more difficult than when you first took your driving lessons to get your license.

it also doesn't really help that he might be one of the most distracting teachers you've ever had as well as you've never had to fight this hard to focus until now when he's reaching over to smoothen out any wrinkles that might have appeared on your clothes because of your seat belt and brushing his hands against yours when you reach for the gear shift.

"you have to pay attention, my dear." he reminds you as he delicately tilts your face so that you're facing forward at the road instead of stealing glances at him. "eyes on the road, not me."

a shaky breath leaves your lips as you try to concentrate on driving, just like he says, but you're beginning to wonder if this is a test of your strength as a person instead when his large hands envelop yours as he helps readjust your hands to the correct position on the steering wheel.

at least when you do something well, you're rewarded with a kiss from him so he definitely understands how to incentivise you even more which is a strong strategy in your books that has no complaints.

when you decide to surprise him one day by picking him up from work, the look on his face is absolutely priceless when you roll down the window and he realises that it's you. once inside the car, he laces his fingers with yours as he brings your hand up to his lip for a soft kiss.

"you've passed with flying colours." he congratulates you, a smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you with utter adoration in his eyes.

although, there will forever be a part of you that misses being able to experience teacher nanami kento. maybe you can convince him to teach you something else.

kamo choso needs to have his hand on you at all times and this extends to driving as well.

it was like a mental checklist that he would run through every time the two of you got into the car, no matter who was driving. doors locked? check. nothing blocking the car? check. all mirrors are angled correctly? check. his hand on you? he gives your hand a cursory glance and quickly intertwines his fingers with yours before he squeezes it softly, soaking in the feeling of your hand enveloped in his. a satisfied hum leaves his lips as he checks off another box in his head.

if it was up to him, you two would just stay home all the time so he could remain glued to you forever but unfortunately for him, it seems that the world doesn't agree with his fantasies.

you never really questioned this habit of his, rather just writing it off as another one of his adorable quirks that you were privy to as his significant other, much like how he likes to trail behind you like a lost puppy whenever you walk anywhere together or how he insists that you should wear his hoodies since they're much better at helping you stay warm even though you both bought hoodies at the same store. small things, like that you know?

however, one day, it seems that your curiosity has seemingly gotten the best of you as you decide to pull off a harmless prank on him to just see what would happen if there were to be a snag in this routine of his.

when the two of you get into the car that day, choso runs through his usual checklist before starting the car and when he gets to the specific step involving you, you evade his attempts to hold your hand. the moment his hand is met with the cold emptiness of air instead of the warmth of yours, he freezes up for a second as his mind tries to comprehend what just happened.

"did i do something?" there's an immediate switch in his demeanour as he almost visibly shrinks and shrivels up in his seat like a cartoon flower that has been deprived of water and sunlight. his voice is delicately soft, as if scared to break this newfound silence between the two of you with one wrong move on his behalf, with a small pout on his lips that reminds you of a kicked puppy.

with one look at his face, you can feel your resolve start to waver and you're extremely tempted to throw your little prank out of the window to go and comfort him and reassure him that he's done nothing wrong but you steel yourself in an attempt to hold your ground.

"you didn't do anything, cho." you reply plainly, trying to keep your voice as relaxed as possible to avoid giving anything away.

you're pretty sure his pout gets even poutier, which you weren't sure could even possibly happen, at your response as he asks again in a thinly veiled plea. "then why won't you let me hold your hand when i drive?"

"well, why do you want to do it in the first place."

"because it's my good luck charm." without even missing a beat, he replies in a tone so matter of fact, you can hardly find any good reason to protest.

"that's all?" you probe, curiosity eagerly egging you on.

"well, i also like being reminded that you're right to me."

"you could just look at me, cho." you giggle softly. he shakes his head at you.

"yeah, but it's not the same as holding you. i like feeling you in my hands. so, can i have your permission to hold your hand?" he reaches his hand out towards you earnestly as he anxiously awaits your response.

you lean over to give him a quick peck on the lips before breaking into a small smile, seemingly satisfied with his heartfelt words, as you take the initiative to entwine your fingers with his. this earns you a soft grin and blush from choso who eagerly peppers your face with kisses with barely-contained joy and relief from being able to hold you again.

after this, you sometimes decide to surprise choso by making the first move to reach for him instead of vice versa and his heart always skips a beat as he tries and fails to fight off a smile whenever you do.

fushiguro toji scares you slightly with the way that he drives. hear me out, that's not to say that he isn't good, he's a great driver truth be told (but you would never say that to his face because you could just imagine the smirk on his face if you did), but he does

to be fair, toji is far from being a novice driver so it makes sense that he's comfortable enough in his abilities to be able to pull off such risky manoeuvres in your eyes but you can't help how your heart skips a beat or two when he starts pulling moves straight from movies like fast & furious.

whenever you lightly chide him for making such moves like how he effortlessly weaves his way around tight corners and such, he always brushes off your concerns with ease.

"doll, do you think that i'd ever risk doing anything stupid when i have precious cargo in here hmm?" he quips back at you with a raised eyebrow and one corner of his lips slightly upturned in that classic crooked smirk of his that makes your heart flutter in more ways than one.

you think for a second about how you want to wipe off that grin with a kiss, to give him a taste of his own teasing, but then you're reminded that you don't wanna give him this victory so you turn off to the side with a small huff leaving your lips. he chuckles to himself under his breath at your antics before leaning over to your side of the car.

"no comment, doll?" he teases. you don't take the bait but you can feel your cheeks rising with heat with how close he is to you to the point you can feel his breath against your neck.

after seeing that you're not budging, toji leans back into his seat though not before intertwining his fingers with yours and bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. he lets go of your hand shortly after and reassuringly squeezes your thigh with his calloused hand.

"have some more faith in me, would 'ya?" he hums and you expect him to let go of you when he starts to drive again, but he doesn't and his grip on you remains there for the entire ride and the next ride after and so forth to the point where it becomes an unspoken habit for him to do so.

he does take a bit more caution when driving now, which he can tell is much to your relief when he notices that you seemingly have much more free time to try and tease him when he's driving for your own amusement.

but after all, old habits die hard and sometimes, they slip through every now and then like when he suddenly pulls off a rapid turn but this time, you can't deny the adrenaline rush that comes along with it.

fushiguro megumi has the most infuriating driving habits in the way that they're also the most attractive driving habits you've ever seen someone have.

you might be biased on account that he's your boyfriend but put anyone in your shoes and in that close proximity to him when he leans over the console to check your seatbelt for you and brushes against you or how he never fails to catch your eyes when adjusting the rear-view mirror and you're sure that they would have the same reaction as you which would be a blushing mess.

ironically, he also drives you up a wall with how oblivious he's acting to the effect it has on you. it has to be an act right? you think to yourself. there's no way that he can be so oblivious to the fact that whenever he looks at you, your face is always flushed red and you're sure that he can't truthfully buy your weak attempts at brushing off his concerns as you stutter an excuse out.

probably one of his worst offences in your book was when he would roll up his sleeve before putting his arm behind your seat to get a better view while reversing. you couldn't even try to logically come up with an explanation for why he does this since no way having his sleeves rolled up affects his ability to do this in any way, shape or form. plus, his car has a rearview camera on the dash monitor so he doesn't even need to look back like this!

well, there's a part of you that knows that you shouldn't probably complain that much since it gives you a good excuse to stare unabashedly at the way his lean muscles flex slightly with each move he makes. but still, the point remains that you have to try and pretend like you're perfectly fine despite

this has to be some form of torture right? you think to yourself, being able to only stare and not do anything else because he's busy driving and you don't want to distract him but yet you're being constantly subjected to stuff like this. you try and fight the growing red blush that seeks to consume your face as you continue to test the limits of your own resolve.

it seems that you're far too lost in your own head and have completely zoned out when suddenly, a voice interrupts your train of thought. "are you looking at my arms?"

at megumi's question, you're instantly brought back into reality as you realise that you had zoned out whilst blatantly staring at his exposed arms and therefore was just caught red handed in the act of shamelessly ogling.

you can feel a strong sense of embarrassment starting to set in as your mind runs through hundreds of different possible responses to his question that range from outright denial to a full-on detailed rant on the way some of his driving habits make you feel before you finally decide to settle on a simple "yes."

a beat of silence passes between the two of you before megumi awkwardly attempts to clear his throat as he brings a hand up to run through his hair.

"o-oh, okay." he stutters out as he tries to turn his attention back to the wheel.

neither of you speak any more on the topic for the rest of the journey though, there seems to be a shift in megumi as he seemingly becomes much more observant towards the apparent effect he has on you when he drives and although you can't confirm it, it also seems that now his actions are much more intentional instead of accidental as he'll purposefully linger on you now rather as if to draw out your reaction rather than pull away normally like before.

you're also sure that there's a ghost of smile on his lips when you do get flustered because of him.

however, he can't hide the fact that the tips of his ears burn bright red whenever he catches you staring now.

okkotsu yuuta loves to shower you with all the love and attention he can offer you at all times. if this was a job, he would be the employee of the month every single month and he would never fail to clock in for his shift. it's not his fault if he gets so distracted by this that he forgets that he also has to do other things as well.

this is probably also why yuuta isn't a very good multitasker when you're next to him.

as much as you love it and him, you had to strike a compromise with him that he could hold it in until you were at a red light in order to make sure that one, his attention would stay on the road and not you, and two, you two would stop getting honked at or angrily stared at by the other drivers on the road who were unfortunate enough to be in the same lane.

whenever the light does turn green and he has to return his attention back to driving, he always pulls away with the most regretful look on his face and you can't help but picture him as a little sad puppy whenever he looks at you with those large, seemingly bottomless eyes that threaten to pull you in whenever you stare at them too long.

you're currently stopped at a red light, a surprisingly long one at that, and it seems that yuuta is fully taking advantage of this opportunity by reaching over the console and capturing your lips in his with such vigour you might think he's been deprived of your touch for the last century (not that you're complaining, of course)

you hear the beeping of the traffic light coming in from your right side, informing you that the light is going to change soon and you break apart for a breath of air to quickly inform him. "yuu, the light's gonna turn green soon."

"just a few more seconds, love." he murmurs against your lips. he has his fingers hooked around your chin as if to hold you in place so he can savour the taste of your just a bit longer. it's clear that he has no intentions to pull away with how his other hand is slowly snaking its way around your waist.

"yuu," you huff out as your eyes flick to the rear window, taking stock of the seemingly endless line of cars waiting behind yours. "i'm pretty sure the car behind us is honking at us to go."

almost as if right on cue, there's the loud screech of a car horn from behind you which goes on for what is probably longer than necessary but yuuta gets the message as he quickly scrambles back into his seat with a small yelp of surprise escaping from his lips and the car jumps back to life as he presses down on the accelerator.

he offers you a sheepish look and you roll your eyes light-heartedly before leaning over to his side to place a chaste kiss against his cheek. the tips of his ears burn bright red the moment your lips grace his skin and he almost visibly deflates when the sensation proves to be a fleeting one.

you can almost see the cogs turning in his mind as he scans the road ahead for any traffic lights or intersections and you know that he's already hoping that they turn red as soon as he gets closer to them. he squeezes your hand twice before returning to the steering wheel and you can't help but smile to yourself at him.

at least you have something to look forward to at red lights now.

itadori yuji makes it his personal job to make every drive with him the most fun drive you could ever have.

originally, it started out with him trying to find a way to make driving more enjoyable for you when you were practising for your driver's test since he knew how much it stressed you out and it hurt his heart to see you so panicked.

if it was up to him, he wouldn't mind being your personal driver 24/7 but he also knew that this was a really big milestone for you and you were insistent on learning this life skill and so it became his life mission to make driving enjoyable for you in any way, shape or form that he can.

of course, with any new thing, there was a slight learning curve for yuji, especially since he was going from what he was used to with his role as the driver to a passenger, but soon enough he became an expert in this to the point where it was almost like he was a mind reader with how well he could anticipate your wants and needs.

carpool karaoke? he's already got a playlist loaded up with all your favourite hits on there. feeling peckish? yuji has a stash of snacks that he knows you love ready in the trunk and is always willing to hop out at a local gas station and go on a late-night shopping spree with you. a bit tired? he's got a pillow and blanket with your name on it in the back seat and he's ready to take over from you at any second.

even when you're not driving, he still tries his best to take care of you whilst also paying attention to the road and although sometimes the balance is a bit more towards you, you don't mind jumping in to help a bit here and there.

when you do try and thank him for his efforts, he always brushes it off with ease as he insists that he's only fulfilling his duties as your boyfriend and that he doesn't need any thanks for doing something as simple as this.

whatever you need, yuji's prepared and ready to help you out in any way that he can and all he could ever ask for in return is to see that smile that he loves so much on your face.

after each drive with him, you always remember to pepper his face with kisses before leaning in for a peck against his lips, which inevitably turns into something much longer as he chases after the fleeting feeling of your lips on his, as your own way of thanking him.

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