Too Far Too Close.

too far too close.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x gn!reader

word count: 2k or sum like that lmao

content warnings: 18+ (minors i will snitch on you to your parents im not kidding), established relationship, aged-up characters (like 19 or 20, old enough to live together on their own), heavy petting, male masturbation, handjob (m receiving), ejaculation, cum eating, voyeurism (kinda??? idfk atp i was just horny and letting my fingers type shit), kinda very super duper sweet soft dom shinsou???? not rlly, but if u squint (there aren’t actual power dynaimcs), afab reader but no pronouns used, one “good girl”, multiple “baby’s”, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, AFTERCARE, mentions of family, shinsou and reader are whipped for each other like down bad horrendously for each other, not proofread

authors note: hey 🧍🏾‍♀️long time no talk, i haven’t wanted to write in a long time and im not good at it LMAOAOAKSKJSS this is very self-indulgent idk how i wrote this ive never done this before but i want to so bad and shinsou would eat that shit up so. i wrote this for him. and me. we. yeah. i hope yall enjoy this utter fucking garbage and filth like this is actually disgusting. if something doesn't make sense it not my fucking fault LMAOOOOOOOOO. this is the song the fic was based off of. HAPPY READING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! constructive criticism welcomed, reblogs appreciated :333

“you wanna what?”

your boyfriend stares at you in confusion, cheeks rosy, lips red, and hair more wild than normal from smothering your face with his just a minute prior to your sudden question or rather, your strained statement.

“ugh,” you reply, hands flying up to your face to shield you from further embarrassment, “i knew i shouldn’t have said anything.”

hitoshi adjusts himself, sitting up a bit further on the couch and you jostle slightly in his lap as the result of his actions.

“no, no baby, i didn’t mean it like that,” he rebuts, grabbing your wrists to pull your hands from your face. he’s too met with rosy wet lips and flushed cheeks as well as a mild pout. he tries to make eye contact with you, but you focus on things around your apartment instead. hmm, the trash looks full. maybe you should take it out later, and oh! the dishes need to be washed as well. oh, look what’s on tv! you’ve been meaning to get around to watchin-

“baby,” histoshi breaks you from your wandering thoughts and brings both of your hands to his lips to kiss them, “it’s okay,” he says in between kisses, “i was just wondering why is all.”

your eyes snap back to his briefly, then back to fluttering around the apartment, trying to stall and think of an answer that would logically make the most sense.

“well i,” you say, biting your lip between words, “i like seeing you feel good. and you feel good when doing that, right?”

hitoshi hums, kissing about both of your hands, up and down both palms, across each finger, down to your wrists.

“the thought of watching me jerk off turns you on that much? seriously?” he asks, a teasing smirk spreading across his face and you drop your head to the crook of his neck, where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

“you are not making me feel better,” you groan, “i thought we were supposed to be open with each other about these things”

“we are and im glad you told me,” he says, letting go of your wrists and wrapping his arms around your back. “it’s just my job to tease you as your boyfriend.”

you sit up and gift him with a smack across his chest which elicits a chuckle from him. he closes the space between you two and locks his lips with yours, you sighing into the kiss and bringing your hands up to run your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.

the two of you kiss for a while, slowly grinding and whining in response to your growing need for each other. he was so hot and he made you hot and you could never be able to get enough of him.

hitoshi is the one to pull away softly, a soft smack sounding throughout the living room, a thick string of saliva connecting the two of you, “fuck, okay, okay. you wanna see me feel good, yeah?” he asks, eyes heavy and out of breath. “yeah,” you reply, nodding and biting your lip.

“okay,” he says again, giving you a quick peck on your lips before straightening his posture against the back of the couch once more. you move to lift off his lap, intending to take a seat on the soft rug atop the hard cherry wood floor of your living room, but histoshi grabs the meat of your sides before you can fully unmount him.

“i want you to stay here,” hitoshi says, positioning you against his hard length.

you drop your forehead to meet against his, sticky with sweat.

“okay,” you whisper, breath fanning across his face. he hums, agreeing with nothing in particular that you said, simply enjoying the presence of your voice.

he removes a hand from your waist, struggling to shimmy both his joggers and boxers down his legs devoid of his other arm, it having a mind of its own, working itself underneath his (yours) sweater.

you lift up a bit onto your knees to make the process a little easier for him, his head resting between the valley of your breasts. he takes his time working his bottoms down his legs, his other arm caressing the canvas of ur back underneath your (his) oversized sweater. u card ur fingers through his hair as he takes his time partially undressing.

normally, you’d be much more impatient and needy with him, but there was something different about this exchange between you two. this had been sitting heavy on your mind for a while. i mean you always loved jerking him off before giving him the suck of his life, but this was different. he’d never done it in front of you, there was never a need to. he was always hard and ready whenever the time called for it.

you knew he’d done it to the thought of you. he’d told you in passing once, before one of your shared classes.

“i don’t need porn anymore, i have you,” he’d stated blankly, like there was nothing wrong with what he said (there wasn’t, he was just more open than you sometimes).

“oh, okay,” you reply, not sure how to respond.

you were flattered to hear as much, but what really got you hot and bothered was the thought of him doing it. shirt clenched between his teeth, rapidly working his hand up and down his thick cock, needy for release. and ever since you’d been meaning to getting around to asking him to let you see it.

thank god he loves you so much. the bastard actually got turned of by the thought of you watching him as well. what a cawinky dink.

his joggers and underwear finally pool around his ankles and you slowly lower yourself back onto his lap, spreading your legs a little wider. he stares at you, eyes dripping with hunger as he undresses you with just a look.

you pull a little on his hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a soft whimper from him. his dick, fully erect and raging red at the tip, jumps from the sensation as well, smearing pre cum against his bare stomach.

its weird to see him like this. you’d normally do things like this in the dark and enclosed in your shared bedroom but this was different; orange and pink light spilled from the sheer curtain-covered balcony windows in the living room, lighting everything up properly. there was no room for him to be shy (not that he would be any way).

his happy trail caught the light perfectly, leading down to his crotch, his pubic hair trimmed but not completely shaven. his dick spills more precum, sparkling in the light.

you drop your head back into the crook of hitoshis shoulder, unable to fight the embarrassment from ogling his dick so intensely. 

“you asked me to do this and you’re more embarrassed than me?” he laughs, pulling you up to meet his gaze once more.

“it's not every day im having a staring contest with ur dick hitoshi,” you reply, eyeing him with slight annoyance, “it's just… out… looking at me… all intense like and shit.”

he shakes his head, huffs out a breathless laugh and smiles before pulling you into a quick chaste kiss. when you separate, he brings his left hand up to your face, “spit,” he commands, a tone of bass in his voice, and you comply, building up a nice amount in your mouth before letting it slowly pool into his hand.

“good girl,” he praises, caressing your cheek with his free hand before bringing his other down to his dick.

you're the first to break eye contact, following his hand go to smear your spit over his already wet dick.  

the noise it makes is absurd and you can’t help but moan at his action, squeezing his hips with your knees in hopes of calming down your pussy. you can feel yourself growing hotter by the minute, pussy growing wetter by the second.

“did that make you feel good?” your boyfriend murmurs. that teasing bitch.

nonetheless, you nod, mouth slightly agape, your eyes not meeting his eyesight, but rather staring at his hand fist at his dick, a disgusting slick slick slick rhythm sounding about the living room.

in a way, it was beautiful, the way he fucked his glistening dick with his hand in the golden time of the day. every other stroke, he’d grip his dick firmly, foreskin slowly rolling over his tip, precum mixed with ur spit settling in the small concave space at the tip, making u cream more and more in your bottoms.

this fucker really knew how to please you. what a sweetheart.

“oh fuck,” he wheezes, free hand flying up to grip his hair. he’d found a nice rhythm, speeding up and slowing down, sometimes taking a break from working his shaft to rub his tip with one finger, staying right on the edge.

at this point, you’re squirming all about his lap, unable to contain your need for him. when he moans, you moan. when he gasps, you gasp. when he stops, you try to stop grinding on him, but you have a little less self-control than he does.

he starts and stops again, dick red from all the agitation. you whine from the lost contact, eager to see him continue fucking himself.

“can you do something for me?” he asks, bringing his face up to yours, rubbing his nose lightly across your cheek.

“anything you want,” you whisper against his lips, eyes heavy and breathing hard. you hope he can’t smell the onions from your late lunch. that’d be embarrassing.

“give me your hand,” he says, reaching out for your right hand. he grabs it and his hand feels kinda gross against yours, cold and wet from the lost contact of his dick. 

instead of watching him guide your hand to his dick, this time your eyes stay glued to his, a new sudden confidence flowing through your body.

sometimes, he’d made you feel small with this type of look, eyes unwavering, never shifting from your form. he’d always made you feel shy, his presence suffocating in a way.

but other times, its made you feel so loved the look of want smothering you up to your chin. what does one crave if not wanting to be wanted?

he closes your fist around his dick, your hand encompassed in his larger one, guiding you on how to pleasure him.

“go slow, ill lead,” he says and you nod, still staring at him.

he squeezes his fist around yours, tightening your grip around his length before slowly bringing it down to the bottom of his shaft, his tufts of purple pubic hair tickling your hand before pulling your hands back up to the tip. his foreskin moves with the motion, stretching and tightening around his dick.

your mouth waters at the image displayed of what the sight could look like, but you’d be damned if you lost the game against your boyfriend so you hold his gaze despite your want to watch you pleasure him.

he builds up a rhythm again, this time a deeper slurk slurk slurk sounding about the space. your mouth waters more as he whimpers, louder and more frequent the more you jerk him off. his eyelids sit heavy but still on you, meeting your level of competitiveness. 

he pants, almost like a dog, voice reverberating off the walls and breathing pattern matching the rhythm of your shared strokes on his cock.

awe shit, awe fuck. you want to put him in your mouth and swallow his load, you want him to fuck you softly into the couch, you want to feel him everywhere. you wanted him to give you his babies. raise a family. grow old with him. love him. awe fuck, awe shit.

“does that feel good baby?” you mew, panting in desire. he nods rapidly, eyebrows drawn to a point, mind too clouded with lust to muster up a verbal answer.

you tighten your pointer finger and thumb just slightly as he brings your hands back up to the tip. he jerks forward slightly, but keeps your gaze, groans falling from his mouth. you take you free hand and cup it under his balls, pulling up against them slightly, adding just that much more pressure.

that seems to be what sets him off. 

hitoshis eyes squeeze shut and his jaw slacks agape as he moans out “oh fuck, oh baby, oh fuck fuck fuck fuck, im gonna cum. thank you, thank you-“

he keeps the pace going before his stomach hollows and his thighs tense, slowly jerking his foreskin around his tip with your hand, and letting his head fall back against the couch.

he spurts hot cum from his angry red dick, it splatting across his chest and stomach, across your (his) sweater, and onto your thighs. he still works your hand and his up and down his softening dick, cum oozing down your hands and across your fingers, a squelch squelch squelch gracing your ears.

soon he brings your joined hands to a stop, and sighs, head lolling to the side on the back of the brown couch, eyes still closed, a small smile on his face.

he lets go of your hand, his dick, now shrunken and soft, flopping on his messy stomach. you move to wipe his spend mixed with your spit on your (HIS!!) already soiled sweater but he brings his own hand up to his mouth before licking it, bottom of his palm up the side to the tip of his finger. he pries his eyes open, immediately finding yours before removing his finger from his mouth with a pop.

“tastes good. wanna taste?” he asks and like always, you nod.

he slowly rises from the back of the couch, grabbing your face with his hands, pulling you into a deep, sweet kiss. it was an odd taste, almost like the sour cream water before you mix it up, but if it was from hitoshi, then you’d always ask for more.

you separate with a smack and you smile. he smiles back.

“you like it?” he asks, and you nod.

“toshi’ juice tastes good.”

“good. don’t ever say that stupid shit again.”

you laugh and he sticks his forehead to yours, both slick and sweat.

“where did you learn how to do that?” he questions softly. you giggle, shrugging and pulling him into another kiss, his lips soft and fitting like a puzzle piece against yours, “i told you, i’ve had a lotta time to think about it.”

“i cant wait to marry you,” he whispers, eyes crossing slightly in a post-coital haze of love and lust. you smile harder and let your head fall into the crook of his neck yet again.

“when did that turn into a competition?” you mutter, voice vibrating against his neck and sending shivers down his spine. he lets out a small groan and you smile so hard, your cheeks start to burn.

“you started it,” he accuses and you simply shake your head, “and i ended it too,”

he laughs, airy and wonderful before pressing the tip of his nose to your neck, breathing in your scent.

you let your brain fog over for a bit after such an intense emotional and physical exchange. what were you gonna make for dinner? you still had to wash the dishes from lunch. and take out the trash. and now you both are all dirty and sweaty and smelly. maybe you could shower together after some rest? thank god the couch is pleather. it would be a bitch to clean the cum off of if otherwise.

“i didn’t get you to come yet,” he reminds you, your mind hazed over with sleepiness. you hum, nuzzling further into his neck, “that’s okay. i know you’ll make it up to me.”

he kisses your neck and hums in agreement, suckling at different parts of it, leaving red marks in his lips. “i'll wake you up in a little while so we can get dinner ready. sleep well stinky.”

your mind clouds over until you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. a light snore graces hitoshis ears which only makes him smile.

he rests his back onto the couch, you nuzzling more into his chest. he interlocks his fingers together across your back, his arms resting where your waist meets your ass. the sun sets a nice shade of amber red, smothering the both of you in a calming evening heat and glow. its time to rest now.

“i love you, dork.”