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──── LAY YOU DOWN LIKE ONE, TWO, THREE ₎ა ˙˖

♡ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟑 :: 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒!𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔 𝐗 𝐅.𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ⌗ guided masturbation, overstim, jealous sex

you haven't the slightest idea where your brother picks his friends up from. satoru and suguru served only one purpose in your life; to get on your nerves. but when they see you at a party you shouldn't be at, suddenly their bullying and protectiveness seems. . . like something else.

⌗ wc : 7.6k

ᝰ.☆ cws : inexperienced reader :: college life :: alcohol mention :: partying :: mentions of conservative home :: threesome :: dirty talk :: guided masturbation :: fingering :: overstimulation :: m. masturbation :: f. oral :: penetrative sex :: riding :: rough sex :: slut/whore calling :: praise :: slight degradation :: choking :: hair-pulling :: creampie :: recording

ᝰ.☆ sweetheart : let's start kinktober off with a bang <3

While many thought of freedom as clear skies, soaring birds and wide open spaces— to you? Freedom was a red solo cup.

Flashing lights, base-maxed music you could barely comprehend, a sea of bodies moving along to the rhythm of the night. Not a single strict eye in sight. To you, freedom was a dress scandalised around your thighs, your hair down, that bitter taste at the back of your tongue— alright, let's not get too hasty. You settled with water for tonight.

The only risk you weren't taking, really.

College couldn't come quicker. Once your parents finally gave you green light for the dorms? You were off before they could say 'focus on your studies!'

Freedom to you was your own living space. A bathroom full of your toiletries. A fridge stocked up with sugars and fats your brother would wither away with just a scowl. No rules. No curfews. And most of all? No annoying boys hanging around your house.

Your brother was fine. Nanami was a little dull, sure, but his company was the problem. To this day you assumed his two best friends held a gun to his head since preschool. How did he befriend polar opposites to his nature?

Geto Suguru. Condescending, smug, the type of faux sweetness that tested even a saint's patience. The instigator.

His much louder counterpart, Gojo Satoru, took most of the flag. He was an arrogant, rich bastard blessed with both beauty and brains, and the shit knew that.

You couldn't pick which was worse.

All that you knew? 'Annoying' didn't even scratch the surface when it came to pretty bitch boy and his beloved competitive asshole.

But now? You could finally focus on guys that weren't the bane of your existence. Like a certain red-head chatting you up at the drink table. Tall, really tall, big, with the kind of stoicism that made the slight smirk on his sharp face all the more exciting.

"Ah, you're not from around here. Thought as much," the guy, 'Kuna' ( as some drunk girl previously hanging on his arm giggled ), peered over his red cup at you. "Wouldn't forget such a pretty face."

"Mhhm, and how many girls do you pull that on?" It's your turn to smile into your cup as you propped yourself back on the counter. Like a prize to be won. With your mini skirt squeezing around your thighs and confidence in each inch of your stiletto heels.

"Only the ones that catch my attention." He mused. His head curved and his eyes did little to hide their predatory swipe. "And it seems like someone likes attention."

Oh, you were greedy for it.

Brought up in a conservative home where your mother measured your skirt to knee ratio with two fingers? Maybe freedom was also in his eyes. It swirled in the scarlet of them. A threat and a promise all the same. It never tasted sweeter.

Alas, your wings were clipped with a familiar weight strung over your shoulders. Sandalwood engulfed your senses and strangled freedom's breeze. Your gaze froze.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Bitch boy alert. Suguru Geto; the image of rebellion itself. With his ripped black trousers, heavy boots, silvers piercings and chains galore— he smudged your freedom like his eyeliner.

"Kinda late to be out isn't it?" His arm's weight was a feather compared to his stare.

You spluttered. "Geto," as if last names could save you. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Could be asking you the same thing. What're you doing on my campus?"

Shit. Had your excitement to run wild blinded your common sense? This was Suguru's college. You know. The one he and the other brat attend with your brother?

"And who's this guy?" He barely blinked. 'Kuna' did several.

"Thought you'd remember me, Sug—"

"I wasn't talking to you." Suguru's gaze sliced with his words. Sharp, concise, like that damned serene smile on his pierced lips. "And it's Geto, to you. Don't you know who this girl is?"

His fingers curled on your shoulder. There's that cage again. You ignored the flutters his touch pooled in your stomach. A golden cage was still a cage. Who gave him the right to play protective? He wasn't Nanami. And he sure as hell wasn't your friend.

Your shoulders jutted back and you writhed from the heaviness of his preformative protection. "Could you get lost? I didn't ask for your—"

Embarrassment's heat turned wet. All over your blouse. Soaking your skin with the bitter taste you specifically avoided tonight. The cheap booze curled your nose more than the anger.

"Whoops! Sorry there," and in comes the arrogant asshole. With a knock to your shoulder and half his cup across your shirt. His shades hung infuriatingly low on his nose. What the hell does he need glasses for at night?

"What's your problem!?" You jerked around to Satoru who caught your irritation with his signature grin. One that ticked off the gods.

Eyes deeper than the ocean and with all its roaring confidence batted at you almost innocently. "Woah— what're you doing here?"He swiped across the room, no so discreetly glared at Sukuna, then gaped at you again.

"If Kenny sees ya he's gonna freak."

Were you sure it was water in your cup? Suddenly the world's spinning and you're getting auditory illusions. Did Satoru just say that Kento would be here? Nanami Kento. Your stuck-up, straight-spined, strict-stared brother, here, at a college party? You laughed despite yourself.

"Ken? Here?" You pointed an irritated grin his way to hide the nervous twitch in your eye. "Tell me another joke."

"You're right, that blonde hair poking out like a sore thumb looks like quite the joke," Suguru jabbed a finger back and you followed in haste. Sure enough, your brother sat poised across the room. Bored and tight-lipped as an overly smiley woman beside him brushed her hand over his shoulder.

You subconsciously scampered behind Satoru's figure. Tall fucker would hide you like a tree away from your brother's death stare— but not from the bastard's smug one. "Aww, scared?" He crooned.

Embarrassment stained your face and you swivelled to make sure Sukuna wasn't watching. No dice. That red head of hair was already halfway across the floor and chatting up the next sweet thing he could find. Damnit. So much for a fun night.

Instead you're stuck with two grinning jerks, a squeeze of rejection and a dash of paranoia. Great, you love your freedom served with a side of cold nostalgia.

"I hate you both." You murmured. Clipped but thinner than you intended. All you're flashed was teeth.

"Sure you should hate the guys getting you out of this mess?" Satoru spun around. "Our dorm's not too far. Sure I have something to get you out of this," he pinched on damp fabric and you swatted his hand away.

Going back to their dorm? Thing one and thing two? Suicide really. But with one last worried glance at Kento, you chose the lesser evil. Rather doom by your own hand than by his. Last thing you needed was a call to your parents.

"Fine," you hissed, jerking away from the two. "Just get me out of here and keep your mouths shut."

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ

"Oh, you're so much cuter in my shirt."

"Didn't I say keep your mouth shut?"

Their dorm was infuriatingly spotless. Not a hair nor nook out of place. Perfectly divided into serenity and chaos with a dash of mischief on both. Suguru's records lined a wall while Satoru's books and comics painted another. Satoru's bed hosted a rug on the foot while Suguru's sported more comfy-looking pillows. White and black, darkness and light, dancing in a harmony of clean desks ( apart from Satoru's that scattered with a few silly sticky notes ) and furbished walls. The only thing you could curl your nose at was the ash tray on the windowsill. But even that was relatively clean.

With nothing to shame them on and the irritatingly comfortable, oversized dark shirt pooling around your skirt, you turned your chastising to the blue-eyed creep grinning ear-to-ear as you plopped on the edge of his bed. Damnit, it's comfortable. Probably courtesy of Satoru's daddy's money.

"Don't you two know how to mind your own business? I was having fun."

"Last time we checked, our best friend's little sister is our business."

The bed sank to your left and you restrained your glare from Suguru. You couldn't handle his pretty face being beside you right now. His audacity, however, had you swivelling. "What were you thinking? That party was full of seniors."

What did it matter? It wasn't like you were a highschooler. That's what you hated about systems. It was always a rank of age and experience. The truth was that the bumbling rejection from preschool never truly fades as you go through the years, just gains a different name. Here you were, over eighteen and in a skirt clearly for a college girl— and you were still regarded with incompetence.

His pretty face wouldn't save him from your scowl. "I can handle myself. I don't need two assholes to do it for me."

Satoru scoffed from the side and propped himself against the wall with a lazy drawl. "Oh yeah, cause you're sooo grown up huh? Grinding against any man that spares you some attention."

At this rate you'd get vertigo with your pivoting glare between the two. Or maybe your eyes would tumble out first. Maybe then you wouldn't have to deal with their slap-awaiting, vogue-worthy faces.

"Damn right I am. I'm an adult. And you know what Satoru? It's not of your business."

He grinned. The fucker grinned. Hands stuffed into his pockets. You wished it was to search for some decency. Instead he fished out a condescending glint over the rims of his shades. "Do you even have any idea what Sukuna does to young and pretty girls like you?"

You skipped over the part where he called you pretty and clawed your palms to reel in your snap. Too late. "And what if I did, huh? What if that's exactly why I was talking to him?"

Shame diminished your filter, but rushed back to your face once their silence weighed heavy. Of course you knew what Sukuna was all about. Your brother wouldn't stop ranting about people like him. But did you really just admit that? To these two bastards, no less?

Suguru cleared his throat and you deluded yourself with the possibility of his decency. "Oh."

That chuckle was anything but decent.

"Were you hoping to go home with him, then? And what would you do say— once he got you on his couch?"

You'd take the blue-eyed judgement carving into your very being over the shift from the grinning demon at your side. Suguru never said anything without a double meaning. Conniving devil indeed. You stubbornly pressed your lips together. His implication forced you to swallow your shame.

"I'm— not a virgin," you spluttered. Sure. That's exactly what a virgin would say. Satoru's snicker agreed with the sentiment.

Another snap towards him, then back to those devilish teeth and now an arched, pierced brow that looped your tummy. "That's also, not any of your business."

But you made it their business. Prattling on about wanting to be taken home? You sealed your own fate.

"Aren't you?" The weight of your decision came in an arm slumped around your shoulders. You stiffened. But that didn't stop the press of cool metal against the tease of your thigh. Magnetically, your gaze fell to those silver rings that looked like sin against your skin.

Suguru's hand. On your thigh. Dwarfing, veiny, promising. It looked more than just sin. It looked good.

"Because the way you're acting, the way you're dressing," dark nails pinch on your skirt's hem, testing it. Was it as flimsy as your confidence? His lips ran a similar test on the shell of your ear. "—looks just like all the pretty virgin girls I've had fun with."

Your cheeks burned with your failure. A buzzer blared through your head.

Lost. You lost.

And now? You're blushing, trembling, in the hold of a man's hand you swore you'd break the fingers of back when he dared to use your hairbrush. If only you could muster that same hateful stare you mastered back as teens.

Instead, you shot him a trembled glare, tapered at the edges like your crumbling bravado. All it took was a smirk, a predatory head tilt, his damn thumb brushing on your thigh— and your glass house shattered.

"Lookie there."

He leaned in, dangerously so. "You're proving my point, princess."

Princess. You'd heard him use that before on other girls. But it felt better on you. Felt right. And the way his hand slipped to your inner thigh told you he thought the same.

"Inexperienced," condescending. "Do you even know how to touch yourself?" Crude.

You caught his hand that made itself comfortable in your thigh's warmth. Yur stare locked, then darted. Anywhere but him, then nowhere except him. Frazzled. Flustered. Fingers fumbled.

Not for long. His far larger, guiding digits meshed with yours. Stilling their storm and festering a new one in your tummy as he slid them further. "Well, do you?"

Through the winds you chased your pride. "I— do," and whispered your lies. Your salvaged confidence took another hit with his lips traced on your lobe.

"Prove it."

Guiding, taunting, he flushed your fingertips to the damp spot on your panties, as if he had a sixth sense for it. As if he already knew your body better than you did. With your stuttering rub at the spot and your surprised gasp, you wouldn't be too surprised.

One stroke. Two. You rebuilt your pride like building blocks. Even if you laid each one with a trembling ring and middle finger.

There was no time to question the absurdity of this. Nor how embarrassingly quickly you played into his hand and melted to his touch. Maybe he was a demon after all. He pulled on your strings with ease— your hateful spats became soft splutters in a matter of seconds.

"Now," there's that devilish drawl. "You can't forget here too. Dual stimulation is important." His left hand, like a cruel teacher, guided yours to your tit that felt too good rubbing on the material of Satoru's shirt. And you? An eager student, as you pinched on the peak and rubbed on the stiffening nipple.

When one hand worked, the other stumbled. Your pussy throbbed into your panties as if begging for more friction. Listening to it only swapped the falter on your tit. If your test was on dual stimulation, you failed. Miserably.

And as if eager to circle all your faults in red ink, Suguru smiled. "Is this how you touch yourself? No wonder you're so needy."

Revision time. You're yanked into his lap with an effortless pull on your thighs. His touch was natural on your skin. His hands belonged on yours. Large, eager, clamped yet caressed. His palm was large enough to cup your cunt, and your breast nestled humbly in the other.

His fingers nudged yours into place and led them in a practised choreography. Pressing down just right on the damp spot and turning it into a wet one as he guided your fingers into a crook on your quivered slit. The hand on your tit ushered your lax one into a slow swirl on your nipple.

You whimpered. He was right. Dual stimulation was important.

"There we go, princess." That damp spot wasn't just wet after that one, it was soaking.

"Can you keep that hand moving just like that? Good girl." He withdrew below to pat atop your cunt, then bunched your skirt around your tummy to expose your drenched panties.

"Satoru, look."

Wait, that's right, Satoru's still in the room. Oddly quiet for the brazen loudmouth, you thought, and fluttered your glossy gaze over to where he stood.

What awaited was hunger so vast, you saw it clinging to his ribs. Eyes so dark, yet unobstructed by the glasses now haphazardly shoved into his messy hair. But what really stuttered your hand— was his. Shamelessly down his pants. Palming himself.

Fuck.

"She's so clumsy," Satoru rumbled in a voice you hardly recognised. Where's that annoying pitch? You slicked your fingers further.

"I think she just wants me to do all the work."

It sounded like a complaint, but Suguru nudged your hand out of the way eagerly and stroked his index and middle over your slit. Slotting into the fabric and dragging the friction all the way to your throbbing clit. Then circled, drawing out a whimper. In the midst of stimulation you hardly noticed the creeping beneath your shirt. Until you were arching into both fingers rubbing your panties and another set pinching your perky tit.

"Mngh, Suguru," you whined. It earned you a second pinch, this time to your clit. His circles found better favour in abusing the nub. Slow, steady, with a flick every now and then for good measure.

You squeaked and squirmed. He braced you with a tempered squeeze on your breast and a laugh fanned into your neck. "You wouldn't have lasted a minute with Sukuna. Look at how wet you are."

A third pinch, this time to the fabric. He withdrew the wet cotton then snapped it back to your twitching cunt with a shlick! Your whine had him biting his smile.

"Oh poor, poor pretty girl." There's that condensation again, crooned to your ear as the pads of his fingers flushed on the hood of your clit. Those slow circles turned fervent and vicious.

Pleasure pricked on your spine. Your thighs squirmed and squeezed, subjecting you to more pressure— and his hand? Not one stutter, not one stumble, he even had the focus to lave kisses up your neck and thumb your nipple

"There we go— oh? That's a pretty sound," he grinned at your whimper and sped when you arched. Gyrating the fabric so perfectly on your twitching, trembling clit.

"Gonna-"

"Hmm? Gonna what? Say it for me."

"G-Gonna—!"

He'd settle with your broken whine for now. It was too cute not to. A few minutes on your little nub was all it took?

Stars burst behind your eyelids and your head limped back on his shoulder. Pathetic grinds became needy hip bucks. Not that you needed it. Not when his fingers barely stopped through your orgasm. Feverish, fluid,

And free.

True. Unwavering freedom. Right there. In the palms of this smug bastard's hands.

If your mind wasn't amuck, you might have cussed him out. But how could you when he crooned to your ear so sweetly? When he tendered kisses down your jaw and squeezed your breast in what you could only coin as assurance?

Poor you. So lost in his, "Atta girl. That's how you touch yourself." —that you barely processed the cool air hitting your slick cunt. In fact, only when soft tuffs tickled your thighs did you snap your gaze down.

Pantieless, with pretty, blue eyes gleaming up at you. If Suguru's hands looked good on your thighs? Satoru's face belonged between them.

"Suguru's right, y'know? You'd barely last a second with Sukuna. That's okay though," his lips caressed your inner thigh, and before you could think of clenching, he wrenched them open. His hands were softer, but dare you say deadlier?

"We could always break you in."

He winked. You stuttered.

Freedom might have been a red solo cup at the beginning of the night. But now? It was a head of white hair and glossy lips kissing up your jittery slit together with a glint of silver rings and calloused fingerpads still swirling on your clit.

You throbbed into Satoru's mouth and limped your head into Suguru's, he kissed atop your head instinctively. "Mngh," another stutter, another throb, Satoru vibrated a chuckle.

"So cute."

Cute, wasn't what it felt like when his tongue dipped in. Together with a firm pinch from Suguru. You gushed around the pink muscle. With a gasp, a whine, something in-between. It was Sastoru's turn to stumble.

"Fuck, so sweet," he groaned into your pussy. How eagerly she accepted his praise. Pulsing into his thumbs that split your folds and the flat of his tongue dragging on your opened slit. "Can't believe you were gonna whore out such a sweet pussy."

His mouth carried out the frustration with sloppy kisses. Suguru shared the sentiment with a tug on your tit and nip on your neck.

But it was Satoru's tightened grip that sealed the deal. Suddenly, smugness wasn't the only thing radiating off of the two. The pair of bastards that you shamed your brother for befriending, the twins of chaos that drove you up the wall—

It was more than suddenly. It was painfully. How did you miss the signs?

Smug? Arrogant? All underlined. But the true factor that drove their haughty hands and heated mouths?

"If you wanna act like a whore, we'll treat you like one."

Jealousy.

After the growl, Satoru fisted your thighs so wide, you wouldn't even think of clenching them. Not that you'd have any string of coherent thought as his face dove into the wetness of your pussy and feasted on it like a man starved. Or perhaps a college boy running on two cups of coffee and even lesser sleep. Which was worse?

You jolted. His kisses became licks, and his licks became sucks. Sloppy yet skilful over your slit. From the hilt, then to the top when his lips brushed on Suguru's knuckle, then back to the middle where his tongue made quick work on spilling out more of your sweet slick.

The latter. The latter was most definitely worse.

Wet shlicks meshed with whimpered shudders. You arched into his face and bucked your hips as best you could. Suguru's fingers barely let up. Three now flat on your clit, with his circling turned to flicks over the poor, overly-stimulated nub.

"W-Wait— oh god, wait," you quivered. Bleary eyes darted to their ceiling. Your thighs clenched into Satoru's hold and tits twitched in Suguru's clutches.

You'd barely been fingered before. Let alone gone dumb on someone's tongue. And four sets of hands? It was too much for your body that only experienced one.

Your grip delved into white locks and another latched on black leather. With the leverage, you bucked and stammered as your body limped back into warmth, all while a cool tongue wrecked your sopping heat.

Filthy. The sounds were filthy. From your webbed lips, from Satoru's slick ones, from Suguru's filthy, ratched ones.

"Wait? Want us to wait? Just showing you what college life's all about, princess." Two more pinches, Satoru doubled down with a loud shlurp, and you cried into the stimulation.

White blinded your vision. Heavy and hot as you pulsed into Satoru's awaiting mouth and twitched into Suguru's cruel fingers. Once, twice, then burst. Slick and messy, all over a chin that ground on you with the rest of his face.

Your orgasm rode out into the endless prickles of pleasure. Held tight on the line of delirious and dumb. But those hands? That mouth? Not one stutter. They weren't you. Inexperienced, clumsy little you who can't even touch herself.

They were cruel. Maybe more than you thought with the way their efforts doubled. Suguru's flicking turned to quick, sharp tapping and Satoru's tongue shoved in and fucked you in a way even your fingers couldn't.

You tensed. That knot in your stomach barely loosened. It burst into a heat that jolted your thighs and squirmed your upper half. "I— I-I can't—" you cried.

Shame. Seemed they liked that. Satoru's eyes rolled, Suguru's narrowed.

"Can't?" Another slap, you jolted with your clit. "Course you can. You're a needy little slut after all? Hmm? Toru, what's that pussy telling ya?"

"Mhhm," Satoru slurred in response. Muffled, wet, messy, as his pointed nose nudged your hood. "Sluttiest— mnghh, fuckin' girl."

If you thought that murmur was greedy, you weren't ready for his lip lock around your clit. Sealed tight on the nub and sucking down in a mix of spit and slick. Suguru clicked his tongue. Satoru always stole his spot.

No matter, he found a better one. With two fingers slick in your cum and shoved into your cunt. They take up a speed that matches the tempered sucking. Quick, punishing, greedy.

You sobbed into the air and pitifully squirmed in Suguru's lap. A pathetic mix of their names drooled from your stuttering mouth. The hand in Satoru's hair turned desperate, he mimicked with his sealed lips and vibrating groans.

You weren't sure what to focus on. The blinding tingles on your crying clit or thick fingers fucking you open and expertly finding that spot you could only dream of.

Was focus even in your dictionary? Not when your pussy clenched in warning and pleasure shot so far up your spine, it knocked the breath from your lungs. The only thing you were good at in this moment was cumming around Suguru's fingers and throbbing into Satoru's lips.

"Toru, Suguuu—wait, please, hngh please-" freedom, capture, the lines blurred as you limped into trapping arms but soared with bucking hips and slutty moans.

"Fuck, what would your brother think?" Suguru bit on your lobe and ground his hips into the cleft of your ass. Your limping weight added just the right friction.

From below, Satoru showed his greed knew no bounds as he released your clit with a lewd pop! only to rush kisses down to your oozing cunt and suck around Suguru's fingers. "He'd hate us. Keeps tellin' us to stay away from you." He heaved.

The audacity. He made you see stars, knocked your breath that you're still trying to catch, and he's breathless? You'd mock him for his pussy-drunkness if it weren't for your mess of glazed eyes and glossy lips.

Besides, he recovered quicker than you. Satoru stood and braced his buckle with an eagerness to get to his zipper. Halted only by Suguru's hum.

"Now, shouldn't we settle this fairly? See who gets this sweet cunt first?"

Their stare locked over your shoulder, and you just so happened to roll your slumped head onto Suguru's and crack an eye open to see Satoru's balled fist. Suguru's followed.

What in the. . .

"Fine, let's settle this reasonably." Satoru huffed. Reasonable seemed to come in a silent chant of three.

Rock.

Paper.

Scissors.

Seriously? You're quickly reminded that you grew up with these two idiots. If you weren't quivering with your cunt on full display and leaking all over the bed, you would have scoffed. Instead your brow arched.

Satoru's fingers jutted in a pair, Suguru's remained balled. Rock beats scissors, Suguru grinned— Satoru groaned. "Fuck." He slumped back into his desk chair with the theatrics of an art major.

You went to roll your eyes and chastise. But your gaze gaped and mouth ran dry when a small click and zip revealed that you had bigger problems to worry about. Much bigger problems.

Suguru's dick sprung from his briefs and slapped back onto your cunt. You'd heard a thing or two about cock before. They were either girthy, or long, but Suguru's? Thick. With enough length to consider him monstrous. And right on the underside, like a bow on a behemoth, a silver glint caught your eye— a frenum piercing just below his pronounced tip.

"It's. . ." You gulped.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Satoru grinned.

"We're not beating the allegations when you say shit like that, Satoru." Suguru grumbled.

His tip smooched your entrance in a lewd hello, then glided through your slick. As if coaxing your poor, trembling slit to calm down. Much like his caressing hands that stroked your inner thighs and spread you wide. Like his cooing voice on your ear.

"Sshh, pretty girl. I've got you. Treat my poor little virgin girls so good, I promise."

A small pop! followed your whimper and your thighs locked— but rough, tender hands guided them apart. "Breathe for me baby. Stay nice and open." Tender strokes on your hip loosened your muscles. As if your body wanted to be good for him.

It did. Wanted to be his good girl. The pretty thing on his lap as you took him in. Inch by agonising inch.

If your fingers were nothing compared to his? They were laughable when compared to his cock. Slick walls gushed and contracted, throbbed and tightened. Each pulse another beg that his girth happily obliged to: stuffing you further.

"Sugu," you broke, and he swore, it was what angels were made of.

Those calloused hands knew nothing but caresses. Over your hips, your sides, cupping your breasts with an encouraging squeeze. His kiss calmed the drumming in your ear. "Easy does it. Taking it so well. Righ, Satoru?"

"So well," Satoru agreed, so soft you barely heard. And for a moment, a devastating moment, you considered a world where that 'performative protectiveness' truly was care.

Another push to your gummy resistance as your cunt clamped tight. The fullness bubbled hiccups in your throat as your hand scrambled for Suguru's wrist while his hands palmed your thighs.

Don't look down, don't you down.

You looked down.

Met with not only a bulge you've only heard about in fiction— but the hilt of his cock. Throbbing, thick, and oh so slicked in your pouring wetness. Like a gift that keeps on giving. To say he stretched you out was an understatement. No, he devoured you. Veins thrumming into your nerves, tip smooched heatedly into a withering spot that sent your toes curling, and filling up every crevice to the point where you weren't sure which part was you and which was Geto fucking Suguru.

The sight had you clenching, gripping around his dick in a vice that begged him not to leave. He hissed into your shoulder. "Fuck, she's tighter than we thought."

Any questioned died on your tongue as he withdrew. Leaving you empty only halfway, but still a few inches too much for your whining, slippery pussy— only to scold her impatience with a quick, easy pump. You scrambled.

"Wh-What do you—" air was a luxury. Like his hands palming your breasts, like his lips laving your neck. "What do you— you mean? Thought?"

Suguru fell into a leisure rhythm. Slow, testing. He eased you through the sting and loosened your needy walls with a swirling thumb to your clit.

Through your shaky breaths and fluttering eyes, you blearily watched as Satoru slanted back into the chair with a hand matching the pace of Suguru's thrusts. If you weren't so occupied with the dick dragging through your folds and that filthy piercing grazing on a perfect sweetspot, you'd have taken a moment to familiarise his cock, too.

"Isn't it obvious?" Suguru grunted, his hands squeezed on your thighs and wrenched them to strain over his lap. Two grinds into your cervix made you whimper from fullness— only to pitifully whine as he retracted to the tip. "Wanted this pussy since forever. Then you had the audacity to put it on advertisement."

Every whine, every whimper, knocked from your chest with air as his hips slammed back. A nasty squelch paired with a sharp slap reverberated. He caught your squirming by the waist and shoved you onto him. Squeezing in the last inches of his cock until the head gyrated on your cervix like a warning.

"So c'mon now." He laughed, breathless, feral, as his strength effortlessly bounced you on his dick that thrust up in a ruinous rhythm. Faster, with purpose, splattering your slick all over your thighs and his.

A lewd beat of balls slapping your folds, your ass clapping down on him and your sweet cries sung into the air heavy with the smell of sex. Like a lewd symphony building into a slutty crescendo.

"Show me what a slut you can be, huh? Fuck me back, yeah— fuck, that's it princess." How pathetic a princess can be. Sloppy and clumsy as your hips take up a stuttering fumble. Just barely mimicking his guiding hands ragdolling you on his dick. "This is how you ride cock. Just like that. Doing so well."

You just barely managed to catch another groan. Deeper, breathier. Through wet and weak eyes you see Satoru, neck crooked and stained fingers squeezing round his girth. Your mouth waters at the drips of precum— but your eyes cringed at a flash.

Only then did you notice his other hand gripping around his phone as if he couldn't focus on which palm actually held his dick. He nursed on his pink lip with sharp teeth, hazy eyes flickering between the screen and the real thing. There, all wet, and wide, and whimpering on Suguru's lap.

"She's messin' all over, Suguru." Satoru rasped.

"Sure you love that. 's your bed." Suguru chuckled.

And since he was such a good best friend, he leaned back, spread you wider as he fisted on the fat of your thighs. He wrung you open on full display so the camera caught every inch of your glistening, sopping pussy. Every clench around his dick, every bit of that ring of filthy cream you left around his base. And most importantly? How you splattered and spilled every time he emptied to the tip, grazed his piercing on the hilt of your slit— then rammed back in.

You're a mess of whimpering sobs and a crying pussy as you limped back into Suguru, splaying yourself further into the heat of finally, finally getting fucked open. And by your brother's best friend no less.

"Awww baby," Satoru crooned. "Listen to those whimpers. Really think you'll survive the real world like this? So fucked-out and you haven't even cum yet. Filthy girl."

Filthy, they called you filthy while their tongues were capable of sins. As if Satoru wasn't fisting his leaking dick and documenting this moment. As if Suguru wasn't sucking hickies all over your neck, pinching on a tit while two fingers messily swirled on your clit.

If you were filthy? They were disgusting. Disgusting for wanting you like this, for taking you like this. And you? All the same for clenching around a guy's cock you swore to hate for the rest of your life, and soaking the other's sheets.

"This," a thrust rammed into your cervix as clamping hands ground you into the bursts of heat arching your spine. "This is what it is to be fucked. Feels good, doesn't it?" Your clit stung into a wet slap then throbbed into the mean pinch of his thumb.

You nodded, brokenly, deliriously, "yes, yes, feels so good— hngh sugu, feels so good—" tears stained your hot face. Your mouth fell open in a web of saliva and he chased the trail with eager lips down your jaw.

"'m gonna— ah - gonna— please!" Your nerves flared, tummy taut. That devasting knot reformed with a pool of blistering heat. You bucked down rapidly, pitifully, as if you had any control of how his cock bullied your squelching walls.

Suguru caught your high with a breathless laugh and cruel swipes on your clit. Sending you from cloud nine into an endless void of spasms and stars splitting before your rolling eyes.

You didn't just clench— you squeezed the life out of him. Milking every vein and squeezing around his cockhead smooching your cervix until his maw slacked and fell into your shoulder. Brows furrowed, teeth biting, he bucked into the curve of your ass and suffocating pussy while gripping onto the last shreds of his sanity. Not now, not—

"Suguru, ohgod suguuuu,"

Shattered. He humped into your heat with a grunting whine and met your flood with his spill. Shooting ropes, upon robes of thick, creamy heat into your pulsing pussy.

"Fuck." His hand abandoned your tit for your jaw, swiveling your head and shoving your lips to his. So that teeth clattered, tongues twisted, and his barbell piercing took your breath away.

You're lost. Ears full of cotton, lungs crying for air, face smudged with streaming mascara and smeared lipstick. But to Suguru dizzy on your saliva and the now panting Satoru? You were beautiful.

While he parted his mouth, his cock remained buried. Eagerly grinding into your prickling bundle of nerves that shook you with more sobs. "Already crying?" He grinned. There's the devil again.

"Baby, you haven't even taken toru."

The world tilted. You're whining from emptiness. The taste of cotton pillows and the feel of wrinkled sheets smoothed on your tummy comforted your now vacant, raw pussy. The weight below shifted into something heavier above you. Flushed into your ass and the curve of your spine with white stands tickling your cheek.

Your oozing cunt wasn't lonely for long. Another plush tip shoved between her messy folds and twitched at the glaze smearing all over. You choked on the hand curling round your throat to cradle you— or yank you back. You didn't know, you didn't care.

Not when your eyes were rolling and pussy was splitting for a second girth. Shoved careless, and zealous with the eagerness of a man starved. And while your sweetspot missed the piercing, your cervix loved how this one shoved into it head-on. Not a smooch, but a smack.

"She's gushing so much," a low groan melted into your whine as a sharp nose dug into your cheek. Shaper teeth grazed on your ear and his long fingers squeezed on your throat. "Feels so good to be a slut, huh sweet girl?" Satoru rumbled. His body was smoother than Suguru's, but a bit bigger, deliciously so.

When you answered with babbles, a small drawback and wet snap! morphed it into a crying confession. "Yes, yes, fuck— Satoru, feels s'good."

He chuckled at your slurs, a rough sound grinding into your ear the same way his cock grated into that sweltering bundle of nerves. "Might wanna hold on tight, sweet girl." His fingers released your throat for your scalp, delving in almost gently as his pace faltered with.

"Not gonna be as gentle as Suguru."

Your eyes widened into the sheets. If what Suguru did to you was considered gentle then—

"Hngh!"

Your cry muffled into cotton as his fingers clenched in your hair and shoved your face into the mattress. But nothing compared to the tempered piston that were his hips. Hot, heavy and haughty as they pounded ripples into your soft ass.

Wetness squeezed and spluttered from your dripping pussy. Smearing Satoru's cock all over and showing him what he was missing. Now that he had it? He was feral and filthy in your ear, in his pace. Trapping you into the sheets with nowhere to run. Nowhere to the hide. Just to be his.

His whore. Their little slut. Until you were spurting out whimpers like the stringy mess pouring from your quivered slit.

"I can't— S'toru- I can't take iitttt."

Overstimulation bled into your tears, and despite your pitiful whines of heat and desperation, your ass still attempted to hump back into him. He huffed a laugh into your hair.

"That right baby?" A nasty hump on your cervix pitched your sobs. "That why you're— fuck, clenching like that? Slutty pussy's tellin' on you, y'know."

A second chuckle joined, one more graceful. Mirroring the hand that cupped your face and brought your head into black leather. Suguru crooned above you as he nudged your bobbing head into his lap. "Oh, can't you? Thought you could handle yourself."

So cruel, yet so comforting. While Satoru's balls barraged against your folds and he chased bruises on your ass, hell— your cervix too— Suguru stroked a thumb on your wet cheekbone and smeared your mascara against his nail polish.

He clicked his tongue, something between condescending and considerate as his thumb swiped over your drooling lips. From your eyes rolled back, you couldn't witness his heated stare. Instead, you spluttered over his hand with whorish moans.

Blurred, incomprehensible, but spiked in a pitch when a sharp spank vibrates your ass. Only to grip and shove it straight back into the mattress. Open and raw against punishing thrusts that made your cries turn into squeals. "This," Satoru hissed, squeezing on fat so it bulged through his finger gaps.

"This is what you gotta expect from guys." He sneered. But his tone quickly shifted as his warm palm cupped below your jaw and yanked your head back to face him. So that your looping eyes, drooling mouth and cute little whines were right below him. He corrected himself with a chuckle.

"Nah, this is what you should expect from us. Know damn well this pussy is ours now, huh?"

He punctuated with a cruel pinch and rub on your clit paired with an angle that knocked the breath from you. Still, you spluttered yieldingly. "M-Mhhm! Mhhm! All— all youurrss hngh."

He twitched. Deep, devastating, and you clenched just in time to send his eyes fluttering too. "Say my name," he gasped. Something rough, something desperate.

"Satoru," you whined, babbling into his fingers that shook around your cheeks, squishing them so your saliva strung. "S-Satoru, Satoru— toru- torutoruuu." You shattered.

Another tug, this time to your hair. Sugur's fingers joined the mix as your strands meshed with silver rings. "Hey now," he breathed. "Don't leave me out. Say mine prettily like that too, princess."

How could you deny him? "Suguuuu," you whimpered. "Suguuruu- sugu, angh, I can't—" Your fingers curled into the sheets, and he quickly snatched your hand. Satoru grabbed the other, yanking it back to where he held you down by the hip.

"Can't?" He mocked.

"Cannn'tt, 'm— fuck, please, s'too much."

While you keened from overstimulation, your pussy drooled and strung all over. Spurting that delicious, addictive cream that scratched at Satoru's sweet tooth. You clamped round his cock. Eager to milk him like you did Suguru. And he whimpered, then grunted.

"Don't think so, sweetheart." He slipped his hand to squeeze tight on your throat and withdrew to the tip, only to piston forward. Bottoming out so your squelching walls were stuffed to the brim and he could abuse your cervix with brutal hammers.

"In fact, I think you're gonna cum," he laughed. Loud, and boisterous, and arrogant. All in the same way he pounded sobs from both your lips and pussy. "Right? Cum for me. Cream my dick baby."

Oh you did more than cream. As your eyes squeezed and your body spasmed, the clench of your wall didn't come with a warm bubble— but a hot stream. A loud, lewd squirt pulsing from your cunt and spraying both of your thighs.

You cramped up, he tensed, but never faltered. Riding out your high while chasing his with stuttered moans and a rambling tongue. "Fuuckk, a squirter," he heaved, voice breaking as the knot within him snapped and he repaid your gift tenfold. Pumping you full for the second time that night. Until your poor pussy was squelching the combination of fluids from your slit and officially ruining Satoru's bed.

Fuck.

"Can tell ya, no guy's gonna be able to do that to you." He groaned, damp hair tickling your cheek when his face fell into your shoulder and his body collapsed onto you. You choked a whine from the pressure, and finally managed to catch your breath as the pistoning pounds became small rocks. Until nothing more but a throbbing, softening dick.

Satoru slipped from your wetness with a whimper you barely heard. Soon the sheets were replaced by a warm chest and you panted into the scent of sandalwood wrapped around you. Deft fingers rubbed on the back of your scalp.

"No guy's gonna do this for you either," Suguru mumbled as his arms held you against him. Satoru joined behind you, his still, somehow cold arms, hooking around your waist and squeezing your thighs that he's evidently obsessed with.

His kisses pressed into the heat of your neck. Each one of them weaving out the intensity of being not only fucked, but overstimulated and stuffed. At last, you relaxed into them. Nothing but panting breaths, quivered thighs and soft whimpers.

The silence blanketed you in silk. And for yet another moment, you forgot whose arms you trembled in. Better yet, whose cocks you let ruin you. Realisation dawned when you caught that satisfied smirk tugged on Suguru's mouth.

"You're both so annoying." You managed, but the way your lips fell to Suguru's shoulder and your fingers laced with Satoru's told another story.

"But you love us, hmm?" Satoru mumbled into your neck with a boyish grin and you wished you pores would secrete poison to kill him in that moment.

Anger's heat melted into an embarrassed simmer, however, and you spluttered a fluster of barely strung together 'what's' and 'how's'. You're shushed by Suguru's thumb on your lips.

He smiled. "You're very obvious."

But his kiss to your ears and Satoru's to your scalp told you there was nothing to fear. If your past self could see you now, she'd scoff and spit at you. But you didn't care. Happiness seeped beneath your ribs and you bit back a smile as they snuggled into you. Trapping you between them, but it was the furthest thing from a cage.

This? This was freedom.

"We've got you." Suguru whispered. "We'll take care of you."

"Later, though." Satoru winked.

You stiffened when Suguru didn't seem to correct him. Suddenly, their smiles looked more sinister than sweet.

Pretty bitch boy slipped his hand down to squeeze on your ass. And his beloved, competitive asshole? He murmured to your ear with a husked rumble.

"What? You thought we're done?"