Work Text:
Satoru pouting is definitely nothing new. Suguru’s girlfriend always seems to have a pout glued to her face, ready to appear whenever she wants something from Suguru, or when she's trying to look irritated—though to Suguru, it just seems like a baby throwing a tantrum. Suguru's used to it by now. She’s been dealing with her girlfriend’s moods and quirks for years, and despite everything, she loves Satoru just the same.
Satoru and her pouty, glossy lips, which always seem freshly coated, since Suguru rarely sees them without that gleam of lip gloss. That specific strawberry gloss that smells a little too divine, tempting Suguru to wet her own lips the moment she catches a whiff when she gets close to Satoru, as if Suguru can already taste that sweet artificial taste on her tongue with just a look.
Satoru had been pouting since they got home from an outing with friends. They’d had fun, drinking and laughing, with Satoru glued to Suguru’s side as usual, gently running her pointy acrylic nails over Suguru’s jugular.
She was draped all over Suguru, giggling after a sweet drink Shoko had specially prepared for her. Satoru had whined last time about always having to stick to juice and not being able to join in the fun of getting tipsy, whatever the hell that meant to her.
She was all snuggled against Suguru’s oversized shirt, her cropped top revealing the outline of her small breasts, which Suguru couldn’t stop glancing at every few seconds. Suguru’s fingers twitched slightly where they rested on Satoru’s waist, idly caressing the small patch of exposed skin between her cropped top and skirt.
Suguru wasn’t sure why, but right in the middle of a conversation between Shoko and Satoru about breast sizes—Shoko complaining about back pain and Satoru sighing about wishing she had such a "problem"—things took a turn.
Satoru's nipples perked beneath her thin top, distracting Suguru more and more with each passing moment. Look, Suguru had already had two beers and wasn’t in the right frame of mind to follow the conversation, and could only offer mindless “Yeah, yeah” or “Uh-huh, sure” responses, okay?
It turned out to be a big mistake.
One moment Satoru was giggly, sexy and affectionate, and the next she was on the opposite side of Shoko’s couch with arms and legs crossed, and huffing whenever Suguru asked, “What? What did I do?”
Apparently, being too distracted by her own girlfriend had earned Suguru... a distant girlfriend.
Their friends, who could be the worst at times and kept gagging at their clinginess, found the whole thing very amusing. They teased Suguru and Satoru, calling them out for their lovey-dovey acts and telling them to tone down on being the “PDA Queens” (a title proudly proclaimed by Satoru herself). Naturally, everyone enjoyed the brief peace when the two weren’t all over each other.
So, of course, Suguru asked what had happened, but no one said a word—just smiled in that infuriating way—while Satoru tapped her foot impatiently. At least she hadn’t gone to her own home afterward, which meant she wasn’t too upset. She still wanted to be around Suguru, even if she refused to give her the time of day. Suguru had always indulged her childish behaviors, but it was hard not to when her girlfriend was cute, even when she was mad.
Although it was undeniably cute, having a pouty-cheeked Satoru silently going through her bedtime routine wasn't as charming when Suguru had no idea why she was upset.
Satoru drank the water Suguru quietly handed her to avoid the usual headache she'd get without Suguru there to remind her to stay hydrated and eat properly. She complained and whined about that often enough. Then, she was at Suguru's sink, removing her makeup with her slender, manicured fingers, massaging her pale, soft cheeks in gentle circles as she went through her skincare routine.
Suguru stood in the doorway, hoping for some acknowledgment, but Satoru didn’t even meet her eyes in the mirror.
Now, they’re in bed. Satoru is scrolling through Instagram, liking pictures without her usual commentary about people’s clothing choices, and she had put a noticeable distance between them. It isn’t a huge gap—not huge, as the bed isn’t exactly spacious for two tall women, especially with Satoru’s long, smooth legs that often dangle off the edge in the morning—but even this small distance feels significant. Satoru isn’t in the mood for touch or cuddling, which is a rare sign of her being genuinely upset.
Suguru, lying on her back, finally turns to face her, placing a hand on Satoru’s arm, still warm and smelling faintly of perfume. She whispers, “Satoru.”
There’s no response, but Satoru doesn’t push her away either, which Suguru takes as a win. It’s a sign that Satoru isn’t that mad and probably wants Suguru to say something.
The problem is, Suguru has no idea what she’s done wrong. She takes the cue to move closer, pressing her chest against Satoru’s back.
Of course, Satoru’s pajamas are as revealing as ever—she’s wearing a thin-strapped shirt and shorts so short they barely count. She always claims it’s because she loves being comfortable and still looking pretty, which she absolutely does. And Suguru enjoys the view, the outline of Satoru's buttcheeks visible in her tiny shorts, so there’s definitely no complaining on her part.
Suguru, on the other hand, prefers the oversized, too-covered type of comfort—the kind Satoru always whines about. But tonight, the temperature’s warm, so Suguru compromised, putting on a tank top and shorts that go to her thighs. Unlike Satoru, she’s perfectly alright being dressed and sometimes even likes the feeling of it.
With the closeness, Suguru sees Satoru’s fingers still on her phone. Suguru moves her hand slowly up and down Satoru’s arm, her thumb tracing soft circular motions on Satoru’s elbow.
Leaning in, she whispers, “Talk to me. I won’t know what happened if you don’t tell me, princess.”
Satoru exhales—probably intending for it to be a huff—but Suguru hears it more as a reaction to their closeness that Satoru oh so much loves.
She brushes her lips against Satoru’s ear. “I don’t want you to be mad at me. I really don’t know what I did wrong, baby.”
Once again, Satoru sighs, and Suguru notices the tiny hairs on her arms stand up, though she holds back a smile. The last thing she wants is for Satoru to get even more upset because Suguru pointed out how sensitive she is to her touch.
Finally, Satoru turns to face her, her bare face soft and pouty, lips glossy with balm, and blue eyes bright, though her eyebrows remain furrowed. Suguru places her hand on Satoru’s waist and looks down at her.
“Mmh?” She hums, urging her to explain.
Satoru narrows her eyes, her white lashes fluttering. “You agreed with Shoko and offended me. I thought you knew how I felt about it, but you still made fun of it.”
Suguru, who obviously couldn’t have done that because as mentioned, she was distracted by Satoru’s existence, blinked in confusion “What?!”
“You know,” Satoru says, her voice carrying that same pouty tone, “the one thing I ever told you I’m insecure about.”
The idea of Satoru feeling insecure about anything is sometimes foreign to Suguru. Satoru is perfect in so many ways that it’s hard for Suguru to accept she has any insecurities, especially since whatever it is, Suguru probably doesn’t see it as something Satoru should feel insecure about.
Suguru racks her brain, staring down at Satoru, thinking and thinking, until her gaze drifts lower to where they’re almost touching—Suguru’s breasts brushing against Satoru’s ribs as she leans in. Even when she’s pissed, Satoru keeps breaking eye contact, flicking quick glances downward. Then, finally, Suguru gets it.
“Shoko talked about your boobs? What did I agree with?” Suguru finally responds, her tone soft.
She does know this is an insecurity for Satoru. Despite Satoru's efforts to downplay it, even trying to turn it into an advantage when she can, the insecurity still lingers.
Satoru glances to the side, as if ashamed of admitting it. “Shoko said I should be grateful that I’m flat, even though she agrees big boobs are better to touch and hold. Of course I know she’s just messing with me, trying to make me defend my flatness—reverse psychology or whatever. But then she asked you, like, ‘Yeah, Suguru agrees bigger is better, right?’ and you just said ‘Uh-huh,’ like an idiot.”
She huffs again, looking at Suguru, genuinely upset. “You sounded so serious. I know when you’re joking, and you weren’t.”
How is Suguru supposed to explain that she sounded serious because she wasn’t paying attention to a single word Shoko was saying—distracted by the very "flatness" in question—without sounding completely insane?
Satoru, I—” Suguru begins, feeling a sudden urge to laugh because the situation is kind of stupid. But if she laughs at Satoru’s face right now, the chance of receiving a cold shoulder for real is 100%. Still, she has to be honest; otherwise, how will Satoru even try to believe her? “I wasn’t agreeing with it.”
“Oh, sure you weren’t,” Satoru rolls her eyes.
Then it’s Suguru’s turn to huff. She tightens her grip on Satoru’s waist, moving her hand up and down Satoru’s hips. “Satoru, I wasn’t agreeing because I wasn’t even paying attention to your conversation. I was looking at you the whole damn time.”
Satoru blinks, and a pretty flush starts to spread across her cheeks. “I—Of course you were. I’m so very distracting, aren’t I?” Then she plays it off, putting her nose up and closing one of her eyes. Suguru huffs a small laugh, shaking her head.
“You don’t believe it?” Suguru asks, her tone gentle because she knows Satoru is just trying to keep her shame guarded but doesn’t quite believe what Suguru said.
“It’s not that I don’t believe it, but—” Satoru’s confident demeanor mellows down, and her eyes lower to Suguru’s chest again shamelessly. She mutters, “Isn’t bigger better, anyway?”
Suguru snorts and lifts herself up, sitting on her knees and moving her other hand to Satoru’s chin. “For you, probably,” she smirks.
With the number of times Satoru naps on top of her chest or simply wants to bury her face in it for no reason, Suguru knows why Satoru thinks that and maybe feels insecure about her own, since she feels so good with everything Suguru can offer her. In her mind, she can’t do the same.
“But for me,” Suguru’s hand slowly leaves Satoru’s hips, moving to her flat stomach. Suguru notices Satoru visibly swallowing when her fingers brush her abdomen and Suguru instantly feels the heat pooling in her lower belly.
Satoru stays silent, eyes locked at Suguru’s fingers as they slide up, up, up to her underboobs, moving slowly in circular motions over her small breast. Satoru’s breath hitches, and Suguru cups her gently, squeezing just enough to elicit a soft gasp from Satoru. “I like them small.”
“You’re so ridiculous,” Satoru mutters, but there’s no bite to it as Suguru’s hands continue to caress her sensitive skin, brushing her thumb over her pink nipples hidden beneath her shirt. Shirt that in this case is starting to bother Suguru.
“Ridiculous for liking my girlfriend’s body just the way it is?” Suguru smiles, the ‘innocent’ grin that Satoru calls her a shameless dog for, the one she always wears when she’s about to devour Satoru. “You’re so sexy, Satoru. You know that.”
Satoru’s response comes as a small murmur, her gaze lingering as Suguru lifts her shirt with the other hand. “I know I am.”
“Mm,” Suguru almost purrs as she finally reveals Satoru’s breasts to her hungry eyes, letting the shirt rest just below her collarbone.
“So why are you doubting me? You know I love you,” she spreads her hands across Satoru’s flat chest, rubbing over her nipples. “All of you.”
“I know,” Satoru mumbles, her eyes fluttering shut as both of Suguru’s hands move to her breasts, delicately twisting her nipples and squeezing.
“You don’t sound so convinced,” Suguru says, feeling her mouth water at the softness beneath her palms. “You want me to prove it?”
Satoru hums, clearly too lost in the sensation of Suguru’s hands to voice anything other than her desire for Suguru to take control.
And what kind of girlfriend would Suguru be if she didn’t? She massages Satoru, moving in slow, circular motions, mesmerized by the way the gap between Satoru’s chests widens and closes, creating a small line when Suguru presses them together.
“You’re so pretty, Satoru,” she murmurs, flicking Satoru’s perky nipples with her index finger and watching them spring back. They’re so pink, round, and inviting that Suguru can never resist pressing down with her thumb just to see them rise slowly again. “So fucking sexy.”
The small sound Satoru hiccups makes Suguru’s pussy throb, already too aroused by Satoru’s soft skin and small gasps. She leans down, trading one hand for her mouth, flicking Satoru’s nipple with her tongue and gently nipping at it, earning a small, pained moan.
Suguru takes Satoru’s entire breast into her mouth, licking her nipple and gently mouthing the soft flesh around it. The change in Satoru’s breathing encourages Suguru to slowly lick her areola and suck the small nub, moaning against her.
“You’re so soft,” Suguru murmurs, licking Satoru’s breast again while continuing to stimulate the other with her hand. She could do this for hours. “I love how easily I can just have all of you with how small you are.”
“Suguru,” Satoru's warning comes out as a whine, sending a rush of heat through Suguru and leaving her cunt wet.
“I’m serious,” Suguru replies, taking Satoru’s breasts in both hands, pressing them together and licking and sucking on each nipple in turn.
Satoru squirms and gasps. It’s so utterly hot that Suguru feels like she’s losing her mind. “You’re perfect for me. The most beautiful woman in the world with the hottest tits.”
Satoru begins a protest, but it falls flat as Suguru bites her again. Satoru’s manicured nails find their way into Suguru’s loose hair, scratching her scalp in a way that makes Suguru shiver and squeeze Satoru’s breasts, mouthing at them again and placing open-mouthed kisses along her soft skin.
“When you wear those tops without a bra, you know exactly what you’re doing,” Suguru says, her hot breath teasing Satoru’s skin. “I can barely control myself, wanting to drag you into an empty room and kiss you senseless,” she moves Satoru’s breast side to side on her tongue, “and then keep my hand busy with this while I finger you until you beg me to stop.”
“Ah—I wouldn’t stop you,” Satoru moans, her voice breathy and raspy as she bares her throat, making Suguru feel utterly wild for her.
“Yeah?” Suguru breathes heavily, overwhelmed with love and desire for Satoru’s body, reveling in her famously flat breasts.
She kisses the wide valley between Satoru’s chest, squeezing her nipple between her thumb and index finger, rubbing it gently.
Satoru melts into whiny, soft noises, because she’s so, so vocal and Suguru loves it. She desperately wants to slide her hands down and feel Satoru’s warm pussy, to feel how wet Suguru’s touch and ministrations on her tiny tits can make her, slide her tongue through Satoru’s folds, taste her and make her cry and beg. But today, the focus is on showing love to Satoru’s boobs, so she holds back.
“Hm,” Satoru barely manages a response, her smooth back arching slightly as Suguru quickly shifts to straddle Satoru’s hips, diving back into her breasts.
Holding Satoru’s waist, she sucks, grabs, and squeezes. Satoru mewls prettily, so sensitive in the very thing she’s insecure about, yet that same insecurity sends waves of pleasure through her under Suguru’s touch.
Suguru loves her, and even this small mound of fat and flesh makes Suguru so incredibly wet as she drools and licks on it again. Suguru bites down once more before lifting her face.
“Satoru,” Suguru drawls, gazing into her girlfriend's hazy eyes and parted red lips. Suguru feels a rush of fondness, love, and arousal that sometimes borders on unhealthy, but she doesn’t care. “Let me show you how good your tits can make me feel.”
Not that Suguru expected anything different than Satoru’s usual mindless nod and “Please,” but it still makes her pussy gush slightly. Watching her girlfriend melt into a puddle under her hand and mouth is so incredibly hot to her.
Maybe Satoru is a bit surprised, her slightly confused expression mix with pleasure as Suguru lifts her hips to slide down her shorts.
“What are you—” Satoru’s hands fall to Suguru’s slightly muscular thigh, which Suguru doesn’t find nearly as delicious as Satoru’s. Satoru’s thighs are so much meatier, and Suguru loves to grab and mark them. But instead of dwelling on how much she loves Satoru’s thighs or addressing her confusion, Suguru takes off her shorts, supporting herself on her knees. The confused look on Satoru’s face quickly dissipates when her eyes lock onto Suguru’s damp black panties. It doesn’t stay long either—Suguru slides them off under Satoru’s intense gaze.
“You want me to feel good too, isn’t that it?” Suguru asks, touching Satoru’s face, caressing her pale cheek.
Satoru pouts, and Suguru brushes her thumb over her soft bottom lip. “Well, yeah. Not much I can do for you with my size,” Satoru admits.
Suguru raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling up. “You do plenty. I already get so much from just touching you, having you in my hands, my mouth. It’s enough.” Suguru holds Satoru’s face a little tighter to keep her from avoiding eye contact. “Let me show you.”
Once again, Satoru nods, trusting Suguru completely. And Suguru is determined to worship every inch of her.
"Hold them closer for me, princess,” she instructs.
Obediently, Satoru moves her hands to hold her own breasts together, her nipples already perked up.
Suguru swallows.
“Good girl,” she whispers before lowering herself slowly, her cunt brushing Satoru’s small breasts, all while Satoru’s intense blue gaze watches her every move, making everything so much better.
Suguru starts moving on top of Satoru’s chest, her nipples lightly brushing against Suguru’s clit, sending sparks of pleasure through her, making her gasp.
Satoru watches wide-eyed, mesmerized by Suguru’s pussy so close to her. Suguru keeps grinding slowly, her wetness slicking Satoru’s breasts, lowering herself just enough for each brush against her clit to drive her crazy. The small contact, the teasing touch, is maddening, and Suguru can’t stop.
“Satoru,” Suguru moans softly, her hands moving to cup her own bigger breasts, which sometimes frustrate her with their weight, but now they’re perfect to use almost as a stress-ball with how much she’s feeling. She squeezes herself each time the light brush against her clit feels too little. She gasps, rolling her hips, and their gazes meet. Satoru looks like she’s seen God, holding her breasts together so obediently, biting her lip to stifle a moan just from watching her girlfriend ride her tits
“It’s—it’s good?” Satoru chokes out, so affected and so seeetly eager.
Suguru nods, her breath shaky. “It’s perfect,” she replies. Because it is. Everything about Satoru feels perfect, and Suguru needs more. Craving it, she completely sits down.
As she moves, Suguru feels Satoru’s hands beneath her pussy, still holding her breasts. “So wet,” Satoru breathes out.
Suguru is drenched because of her, because of her delicious flat chest. She grinds harder against Satoru, feeling the small mound beneath her and the tantalizing way Satoru’s nipple disappears between her folds. It’s driving her insane.
Suguru squeezes her own breasts, needing something to hold as her hips move urgently. He feels Satoru's hand slips to her narrow waist, her girlfriend slender fingers then caress down to Suguru's tight, letting Suguru use her chest however she pleases.
So Suguru worships it with her cunt, and marks Satoru with her wetness.
Suguru’s eyes close as she chases more pleasure, and yet she's still able to feel the weigth of Satoru’s gaze on her. The blue eyes are locked on her movements, watching Suguru’s hands grabbing her breasts, the furrow in her brow, the way Suguru moans because of how good Satoru makes her feel. Satoru just feels perfect and so damn hot. The way her nipples rub against Suguru's clit is teasingly delicious. Suguru feels his pussy throbbing nonstop.
“Fuck, I love it,” Suguru breathes, her words lost in pleasure. Satoru’s nails graze her thighs, sending shivers through her spine.
“Babe, you gonna come for me?” Satoru murmurs, gripping Suguru’s flesh, encouraging her to make a mess on her chest and shirt. Suguru doesn’t care about any mess, moving her hips instinctively.
“For you, I’m gonna cum all over your pretty tits,” Suguru replies, like a promise, moving a hand to Satoru’s face, taking in her dilated pupils and the way she wets her lips at Suguru’s words. “You like that?”
Satoru whines, “Yes, God. Yes, Suguru.”
“Good girl wants my cum?” Suguru rasps, moving with more urgency, the sides of Satoru’s fingers rubbing her entrance making it harder to hold back. Satoru nods, and Suguru mirrors it, determined to give her everything she wants. “I’ll give you, I will.”
Satoru’s moans are so needy that if Suguru closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she’s fucking Satoru with her strap—but that’s not the case. Satoru’s simply overwhelmed by the fact she makes Suguru feel good, struggling to keep up. It’s not just the pleasure that’s driving her, but the pure, delirious love, exactly how Suguru wants her to be.
Suguru grips Satoru’s shoulder blade, squeezing slightly, twisting her own nipple as she grinds once, twice more before gasping, finally coming all over Satoru as promised, her slick coating her hand and Satoru’s chest.
Satoru’s hand leaves her breast and slips beneath Suguru’s cunt, sliding her fingers through the mess. Suguru hums, oversensitive as Satoru rubs her clit in circular motions, the sound of it wet and filthy.
Even as she’s still coming down from her orgasm, Suguru leans back, half-lidded eyes locking onto Satoru’s. Her hand slips inside Satoru’s shorts, finding its way beneath her laced panties to tease her clit in the same way, instantly feeling how unbelievably wet Satoru is.
“God, all that,” Suguru moans at a particular move of Satoru’s fingers, Satoru’s name spilling from her lips before she continues, “Just from playing with your tits?”
Satoru melts, crying out at Suguru’s touch and her movements falter but she still tries to keep the rhythm. Suguru lets her surrender to the moment, just as she does.
The room fills with their moans and heavy breaths, Satoru’s chest rising and falling beneath Suguru, her warm, slick heat under Suguru’s fingers.
The sensation drives Suguru to another orgasm, adding to the mess on Satoru’s chest. With a bit more pressure on her clit and a light press into her cunt, Satoru moans pitch higher, and her release spills onto Suguru’s hand.
Suguru gently caresses her, sliding her fingers through the folds, savoring the wet, slick sounds until she’s satisfied.
Minutes later, when Suguru lays down on Satoru’s side again, a leg between her soft thighs, an arm around her waist, their bodies flush together, she whispers against Satoru’s neck, “Do you believe me now?”
Satoru, with her chin resting on Suguru’s head, responds, “I guess,” her tone petulant, teasing Suguru into rolling her eyes.
“I can show you again and again, you know,” Suguru says, watching Satoru’s slender throat move as she swallows.
“I think I’ll need it, but also,” Satoru pulls her close, “I want to do that too.”
Suguru huffs a laugh. “Of course you do.”
“Not fair if only you do it!”
“This isn’t a competition.”
“Now it is.”
And of course, Suguru will let her do it. There’s nothing in the world Suguru wouldn’t do for her anyway.