synopsis . In which you sign up for this specialized annual program called Sex With a Monster (S.W.A.M. for short). Only a select few get chosen to participate in varying breeding tests & experiments with—you guessed it—monsters! And after years of applying, you finally get accepted into the program. Only to find that it’s not exactly what you were expecting...
content . afab!reader, monster au, triple penetration (GULP), monster fucking (obviously), size kinks & differences, full nelson, reader is feral, lowk a crack fic, threesome, dabura & sukuna kiss, use of sukuna's stomach mouth, biting, feralness, breeding kink, dirty talk, filth, pet names, a veryyy pussydrunk dabura, dumbification, oral sex (f!receiving), mentions of: hybrid!choso, venom!toji, slenderman, vampire!suguru, and a cursed!satoru (there’s a lot going on in this), so.. so many cocks, bickering, implied squirting, etc.
word count . 8.2k || author's note: based on this request (and many others). this fic might be one of the craziest things i've written yet. not fully proofread, srry in advance! banner art by rororogi mogera <3
CONGRATULATIONS, YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED INTO S.W.A.M. AS AN HONORED RECRUIT! YOU MAY COLLECT YOUR...
The rest of that email didn't much matter to you. In fact, you think everything after those first seven words could've been left out of the message entirely. You were so excited you nearly fell off your bed with a yelp of joy gleeing out of your throat.
It'd been four long years of trial and error trying to get into this damn program and it finally happened for you.
They only come around once a year for thirty-one days that always seem to fly by in the blink of an eye. In your first year of applying, you'd made a spelling error somewhere and they denied you. Stupid, right?
The second year you were under-qualified simply because you, "hadn't fucked enough people." And yes, it is as ridiculous as it sounds, considering anyone could lie within their application under that question that asks how much sex they've had within the past three months.
In the third year, you forgot to submit a "visual application" and they denied you once again. By this time you were starting to think the program was a scam and that there were just some creepy men behind the whole thing—tricking monster-fucking women into submitting intimate details about themself just for the hell of it.
It's not until this year that you realize this program was very much not a scam at all.
Your final attempt at getting into it was a success, resulting in that previously mentioned email that your eyes happily skimmed over. That, and you also had two other good friends who apparently had gotten accepted into it years ago, only deciding to spill the details of their experience now that you've been accepted.
"I had a great time when I went. Whatever you're thinking it is, I hope you know it's ten times better!" Yuki claimed. Apparently, she slept with some hybrid-wolf guy?
"No because I was actually upset they didn't send that one guy to me, y'know the one on the posters with the tentacles?" Your dearest Utahime had ranted. She got stuck with some dude with more eyes than arms—six to be exact—and evidently that turned her off from the whole experience.
Not that she didn’t go back a few times afterwards, though…
"Well, at least your monster had a face. I got a tentacle man but fuck, he was kinda boring since I was looking at a blank face the whole time." Your last acquaintance hummed in response to the previous statement.
There was a lot of information to take in and yet you were bright-eyed ‘n beaming with excitement upon listening to every little detail. This program asked its recruits for so much prior to acceptance due to the various things that could go oh-so-wrong.
After all, you were required to sign a waiver that said something about being okay with these tests possibly resulting in the loss of your own life. It was scary, sure. But you weren’t exactly thinking with your head whenever S.W.A.M. was involved.
Why would you be? One look at some hot, long-haired vampire who seemed to be the face of the program along with some other dark-haired brute with a freakishly long tongue, and your cunt was leading every decision of yours.
Not to mention the fact that this program housed all sorts of different types of monsters. Many were science experiments gone wrong and some were from entirely different worlds. And now that you were accepted into it, you'd finally be able to meet and sleep with one of them!
What could possibly go wrong?
——
"...Most have said it best if you follow their lead," Dr. Nanami Kento was in the middle of droning about while he led you to your designated "room of pleasure" or whatever he called it. "Some of our specimens here can be a bit... much to deal with, and if you'd like to walk out with the best experience possible, it is always advised that you let them do their thing and simply be compliant."
The two of you had been walking some lengthy hallway for what felt like hours now. Nanami was the first person to greet you upon your entry to the facility—which very much rivaled a prison on the outside, but looked to be a mix of a hospital and a hotel within its interior—and while you swear he's been walking you in circles, he's also explained to you a long list of rules that you'll need to keep in mind before you're to meet your monster.
All experiences in S.W.A.M. are unique and different. Even if two different people have slept with or been bred by the same monster, they both leave the program with two entirely dissimilar stories.
Along the walk to your designated room, you passed by many others that gave you glimpses of how many differing species occupied this place. There were definitely a lot that looked nowhere near human, but there were also a considerable amount that seemed to be completely human.
Which Nanami clarified for you that they were certainly not.
At some point, the two of you had reached an elevator and after swiftly stepping onto it, Nanami calmly pressed the button for the twelfth floor. During this, you took notice of how some floors had names attached to them. The sixth floor was for hybrids, the eleventh floor was for the undead, and somewhere around the fifteenth floor included spirits and fae.
You naturally found all of this to be most fascinating, but in doing so, you missed the name of the floor the two of you were heading towards.
By the time the elevator creaked its way there, Nanami had let you step out first and then proceeded to remain in place with a stoic smile stitched across his face.
You swirled around with wide eyes, "Uh-, Dr. Nanami? Are you not coming with m—"
"Good luck," was the only, and last thing the man said to you before rapidly mashing at the lobby-level button to his right.
Then the doors shut in your face.
You stared at your slanted, shimmery reflection for a long moment before sighing and turning back around to the short hallway. There were three doors; one on the left that said Simurian, another on the right that read King of Curses, and the last one set in the middle which held your name on it.
You think your eyes stretched open impossibly wider upon seeing it.
Did all people get their own room like this? What the heck is a Simurian and just who the hell is the King of Curses? Why did Dr. Nanami leave you like that?? And what did he mean by good luck???
You were only here for sexualized testing, right?
Pushing all these questions of yours aside, you paced forward slowly.
With every step you took, you couldn't help but notice how the door to your left seemed to be nearly ten feet tall. Over on your right, that door looked to be a few inches shorter but much wider.
Who or whatever occupied either room must have been freakishly huge. The thought of which makes you shudder before you finally slip into the human-sized door set for you.
Inside the room, you were met with a massive area. Everything looked as though it were twice your size—the bed, a table you end up walking past, a... a cuck chair(?), and a bunch of other stuff you didn't quite familiarize yourself with.
What caught your attention the quickest—aside from the large chair near the bed—was a file that was laid out on the only normally sized piece of furniture in the room, a dresser.
Curiously, you swiped up said file and were quick to open it. One of the papers inside fluttered out and elsewhere as soon as you did so, but you didn't pay it any mind since the first page inside captured all of your attention rather quickly.
It was a profile for someone named Dabura Karaba.
A picture of the man-, or, alien—as you come to know within the next few seconds of reading—sits up near the top left corner of the page.
There's a shit ton of information about him plastered all throughout the rest of the paper, going on to extend towards the back of it, and even a few more pages afterwards. But you skim over the majority of that just to read the details listed about his genitals.
Gross Morphology:
The phallus is retractile, measuring at approximately 7-9 cm in total length (base to tip), with a circumference of 6.5 cm at mid-shaft—when flaccid. The organ falls under the spectrum of beige in color [HEX: #c2b6a1 for reference — intermittently a hue lighter or darker dependent on lighting], with twisting veins that pulse at roughly 20 bpm—presumably reflecting circulatory activity. The hemisphere of the glans measure at about 5.7 cm in width, and secretes a viscous, petroleum-like lubricant (pH 7.5-8.0). The membrane is. . .
You think your mouth is watering by the time your eyes return to their skimming, one too many scientific words printed out across the paper for your concern.
That is, until the word erectile seems to stand out in its bold letters before you.
Erectile Dynamics:
Upon arousal (typically triggered by pheromonal, faint tactile, or visual stimuli) the glans reaches hues up to HEX: #7f737c — mimicking that of a flushed state. The phallus has then been measured to broaden rapidly, extending the full, non-curved, erect length of—
Unfortunately for your curiosity, your reading is cut quite short when the loud sound of something thumping against the wall causes you to flinch and redirect your eyes elsewhere. Though, you’re pretty sure you saw double digits following those last few words you read.
When you turn, you're met with the same being you've been reading about, who's currently busy with silently cursing your tiny doorframe for hitting the left tip of one of his horns. The alien is hunched over when your eyes make contact with him, but that changes within the next coming seconds as he steps into the room and quietly shuts the door behind him—clearly unaware of your gaze being on him.
The moment his eyes—all three of them—glide your way, you flinch like an idiot and let that document drop out of your hands as if you weren't supposed to be touching it in the first place.
Dabura is a brooding-looking creature, to say the least. He's got a great deal of staggering feet to his height, easily exceeding some inches over seven feet tall. You believe you feel a short shot of pain in your neck just from the angle of which it takes to peer up at his face.
Despite being an alien, he carries a humanoid frame and possess quite the lean, but well defined, musculature. The three eyes he had slipping along your build all carry irises with an redish-orange color in them. There's a pair of long, curved horns—that you'd love to hold onto later—which extend upwards 'n outwards from the side of his head.
You're gulping down a thick sum of nerves as your gaze travels to the expanse of his body in sync with the way he was doing to you. There's a plethora of dark markings plastered all along his neck, arms, and shoulders, which form these uneven, asymmetrical patterns out across his smooth skin. That, and there's even another marking encircling that third eye of his.
Which you note hasn't moved from your face from the moment he noticed you despite his other pair having carried right along...
Your ogling comes to an end just as you're admiring his elongated earlobes from where you are, catching how they run down to his abdomen and are adorned with more piercings than you can count.
"I presume you're the human I am to mate with?" His voice sends a cold chill straight down your spine. Not because it was scary or anything, but simply due to the fact that no human could ever possess such a soothingly deep baritone to their words in the way he does.
You gulp loudly enough for him to hear and the sound makes his head tip over just an inch as if curiosity has struck him. "Y-Yes," The first stutter out of your mouth already makes you want to find the nearest window and ju-, "That would be me, yes. Which means you must be..." You halfway saved yourself of embarrassment until you realized you'd dropped that file with all his information and somehow managed to forget his name already.
Shit, this whole thing is going poorly already and neither of you have even taken your clothes off!
Scrambling to the papers that fell earlier, you hurry to swipe some of them up in search for a name and don't even notice the way he stalks over to assist you until a large hand comes into view just above yours. Then you lift your chin up and the alien is crouched right in front of you while looking down.
Up close, you realize just how intimidating he really is. It was bad before when he was a few steps away from you but now that he's up close, you think you can feel your heart beat pounding against your ears as if to give you an audio representation of your climbing anxiety.
You'd spent four years trying to get into this program and now you finally had a monster (technically alien) in front of you but the only thing you could feel was fear instead of excitement. What a bummer—
"Dabura," The alien murmurs in a contrastingly gentle tone, bass consuming all bits of space in between the two of you and weirdly settling down that anxiousness of yours to replace it with something much warmer. Then all his eyes flick up to meet with yours again and his demeanor is strictly calming as he hums, "There's no need for papers to tell you my name when I am right in front of you."
You blink, letting the word, "Right," tumble out of your mouth all softly. Snapping out of your flustered stupor, you look upwards and notice the faintest scuff on his left horn—which reminds you of the noise you heard when he first came in. Then you redirect your hand to reach up towards it, "Did you hit your horn on the way in?"
"I did,” Dabura cuts off your traveling hand by grabbing onto your wrist and holding it a few inches away from their destination.
"Are they sensitive to touch?" You ask harmlessly, batting your lashes at the creature.
His expression falls impossibly duller, eyelids lowering as an unamused frown takes over his lips, "Every human asks me this, no."
You immediately raise a brow as if unconvinced, "If that's true then,” He sees the way your fingers wiggle before you go to move your other hand, “May I-"
His free hand shoots over to grasp at your other one as his eyes widen slightly. Grumbling, "No." with more firmness to it in hopes you’ll stop with your attempts at feeling on his horns.
Then you pop a pout, "You're no funnnn.”
The alien stares at you for a long moment, taking you all in just as you’d done earlier. You’re far prettier than any other human he’d been sent so far, and he feels his heart doing something weird each time you make a surprising advance to touch him.
But even so, he’s not about to let you get into something you clearly don’t quite understand yet. "Unless you should like to begin mating now," Dabura explains lowly, steadily moving your hands down and towards your lap, "No, you cannot touch them."
A smug smile breaks out onto your face and it makes his brows twitch. He watches as you quickly break out of that momentarily timid shell, "Oh, so they are sensitive!" you exclaim.
"They are not, they just-,” He cuts himself off and shuts his eyes, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as he exhales strongly, “Human."
Your eyes roll, "I have a name too, y’know-"
"Do you wish to be bred against every available surface in this room?" Dabura interrupts, hoping to catch you off guard just as his initial appearance did.
Unfortunately for him, he’s in the presence of the world’s most eager human.
"Do you want my honest answer to that?" You ask with an unfairly cute grin on your face.
"I-,” He chokes whilst returning his eyes to you, “Pardon?" You act like you didn’t say anything unordinary and blink innocently. In which he’s left to let his shoulders slump a bit and begrudgingly say, "I am curious, yes. Answer me honestly."
That’s when you place your hands on the floor and lean closer to him rather cat-like, causing him to lean back out of shock and nearly fall completely on his ass despite being almost twice your size. "I would love if you fucked me against every surface,” You tell him with this little sparkle noticeable in your eyes.
In the time Dabura has been apart of the program, he can’t say he’s ever encountered a human quite as… enthusiastic as you. Plus, your sentence came out far more vulgar than his had—something he takes note of.
Which is exactly why his next words leaves him slowly, tone etched with concern, "...You appeared frightened by me just mere minutes ago."
"Yes,” You agree before looking down at the way he’s managed to lean back enough to nearly be positioned under you, “And now I'm aroused—in some places this is could even be called scarousal."
Dabura feels like you’re more of the foreign creature in the room as opposed to himself by this point. Letting his brows scrunch up, "I don't believe that's a word-"
"You're an alien, you only know so much,” You hush out in this purring tone that catches him off guard. Then you lift one of your hands and move to tap your index against one of his many, many abs.
His breath hitches and his lips twitch—threatening to smile from the experience of being teased by you.
Dabura’s got two eyes focused on the soft taps of your finger and the remaining one fixated on your face as he utters, "I like you, human."
"Thank you, alien.” You reply, sliding your finger over and tracing a few of his abs just to smile at the way he flinches under your touch. God, for a creature much larger than you and all intimidating, he sure was sensitive to the smallest of things. “I think I like you t-"
"May I taste you?" Dabura requests, throwing your entire focus off the rails.
"What?" You choke as an immediate throb feels out for your attention from in between your legs. Then you remember that he’s still a different species, and find yourself instinctively pulling away cautiously, "You mean like, sexually, right…?”
He snorts and your heart skips a beat at the realization he finds you most amusing when you’re confused. "Unless you have a preference for being devoured in a literal sense,” Dabura reaches for your wrist once more and pulls you closer, letting your palm meet his abdomen as he husks out a careful, “Yes."
"O-Oh. I mean, if that’s the case then of course." You agree with that same twinkle from earlier returning into your irises. Though, Dabura doesn’t miss the way your expressions vocalize your thoughts before your mouth does, "Wait, Dr. Nanami mentioned something about this testing being primarily for breeding.” You recall, moving away from the alien to stand up. “Eating me out will won’t really have anything to do with-"
"It will help." He insists as he too shifts around to bring himself up onto his feet. Then he gives you this look that has your thighs drawing nearer to one another, "And I'm sure that doctor of yours also mentioned how you are to listen to me."
You can’t exactly refute that, "Well-, wait, how do you know that?!"
Rolling his eyes only once as if he’d grown tired of this useless back and forth, Dabura presses forward and tutts, "You worry yourself with the wrong things."
After which, and before you have a moment to debate with him even further, he’s bent down to swoop you up ‘n over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing! One arm is tightly set around your thighs and the other comes over to place a hand against the curve of your ass to support you.
You feel all warm again as you realize how high up in the air he has you, considering how tall the alien stands.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off within the next few seconds by your body flopping down onto the bed carelessly, a soft oof lofting out of your mouth instead. You then shoot your inquisitive gaze upwards again and open your mouth to question him further, but find yourself rather speechless from the angle of which he now stands.
It was one thing to see him from afar, another to see him practically beneath you, but above you? Fuck, you couldn’t even help the way your thighs clamped shut—arousal daring to damp itself at your core.
Dabura is looking down at you for a quiet moment before drawing a hand up to his chin in thought and muttering, “Perhaps I should have tossed you the other way…”
You know you’re supposed to be following his lead but it’s a bit difficult to do that when all he’s said is that he wanted to taste you, “Huh? What are you-“
“Flip over,” He orders flatly, barely adding on, “Please,” after noticing the way you’d begun to glare at him.
You’re slow to do exactly that, and feel awkward in your every move—being watched so closely by some alien you’ve hardly gotten to know wasn’t exactly what you were expecting from this whole thing. You don’t know why, but you thought this process would be a lot more-
“I’m going to undress you now,” Dabura warns, his hands having met with the fabric at your hips.
You freeze before regaining your thoughts and then glancing back at him from over your shoulder, “I really don’t think this part is necessary for the-“
He interrupts you with an unintentionally rude sigh—as if your extra communication is the problem here and not his lack thereof—and moves his hand to the center of your back before applying pressure. The weight from his palm forces your upper half down against the mattress. Your face smushes right into the sheets and you let out a frustrated grumble in response to his curtness.
Then you could almost hear the smile in his words as he asks, “Is this the best you can arch?”
“Excuse me?” Your voice is muffled but he could make out what you were saying quite clearly.
Grinning to himself, “Your arch,” He repeats, biting back a snort, “Is this as good as it gets?”
You couldn’t tell if he was taunting you like this on purpose just to get a rise out of you or if he was being sincere but either way it was starting to annoy you. So much so that you lift your head a little and scoff, “How about I arch my foot into your a-ah! Hey,” Unfortunately, your words whisk out into a breathy sound rivaling a moan.
Dabura had deduced that right then, in the middle of your complaints, it’d be best to swipe his thumb against your crotch—bringing friction to your cunt through the few layers of fabric.
“For a human so intuitive, and uncooperative, you are quite wet.” He points out—making you furrow your brows as you wonder how the hell he figured that out from only one little touch. It’s not like you were leaking through your-, “What caused this, I wonder.”
With a bratty frown on your face, you pull your hips away from him slightly—not to reject his touches but simply to torture his desire to do so, “Not you, asshole.”
“Mmh.” Dabura is fully amused now. He’d never encountered a human quite like you. “Seems I forgot to add liar into that list,” He says playfully.
You gasp, “Excuse me-“
Your pants getting tugged down swiftly enough to cut your words off again, cool air slapping against your naked skin rather quickly.
“My, my…” Dabura gawks lightly. “You know, I’ve never tasted human pussy before.”
“Eh?” Your head pops up from the sheets and you look back over your shoulder, “You mean you’ve never given oral before?”
Almost sheepishly and in a stiffened manner, the alien shakes his head. “Many denied me from doing so, but you… You seemed so excited to mate with me, I only assumed you’d enjoy this just as much as I would.”
“Well-“
“And considering how…” The thick of his thumb presses in between your folds, rubbing against the fabric of your panties sluggishly, “…wet you are,” Then Dabura releases a parched sigh. “Why, it’d be improper of me not to get a taste. This entire program is based on sexualized testing, yes? Perhaps your cunt will take my seed best after being thoroughly licked.”
Talk about giving you fancy excuses just to eat you out…
You suppose you couldn’t blame him for wanting to plaster his tongue in your juices—after all, he did just say no other human allowed him to do so. Now, that does make you curious since Nanami specifically informed you to listen to your monster’s whims.
Perhaps he’d only done so based on this one’s past experiences? And that ‘good luck’ he gave you… what was that all about?
——
None of these questions of yours get answered anytime soon but they’re forgotten rather quickly with the way Dabura’s tongue had so feverishly met your twitching folds from beyond the layer of cotton that lay in the way.
You suppose he didn’t care much to move them aside just yet, as he seemed to enjoy toying with the material and liked the way you squirmed whenever he sucked it into his mouth—the raw feel of his plush lips grazing your bare cunt.
Even his decision to eat you out from the back left you curious. Hell, everything this damn alien did had you doused in concern. But of course, he hadn’t spared you a moment to dwell on any of them.
Especially not with those distracting grunts he let out by the time he finally peeled your panties down your clammy legs—hands gripped tightly onto your thighs to keep you spread open at the perfect angle for his tongue to lap inward.
“Mmmgh, yesyes,” Dabura groans, “Such a-, mmh, tasty lil’ thing.” His words slathered in between your pussy lips at varying angles, adding to each flicking movement of his tongue.
“Dabura,” You moan just as his mouth plucks away for a split second long enough for his teeth to bare. Then angles down just to nibble at your inner thigh for no direct reason other than wanting to feel you squirm against his hands. “I-I still don’t think you’re supposed to-, ngh!”
Again, you’re cut off by his actions—his mouth having returned to your poor, leaky entrance to swab over with his tongue. Then his hands pried your legs further open in an attempt at feeling your labia peel apart even more, tongue hot ‘n aching for more and more of your slick. You’re unsure of what exactly would satiate the alien’s thirst for you when he was already thrusting the majority of his oral muscle in between your walls.
Humans didn’t eat pussy like this, naturally. Not only was there a foreign movement to the way he fucked his tongue into you but the added factor of Dabura being clueless with his every move had you dazed. You wanted to tease him for the way he’d waddle his tongue around your clit for a second too short but he always seemed to make up for it by wiggling it deeeep into your pussy directly after.
It was almost like he wanted to smear your own taste around.
“What was that?” Dabura eventually mumbled against your sappy folds, letting you gush against his lips as he spoke, “I couldn’t hear you over my talkative girl down here.”
Your legs twitch as if to close but it’s to no avail. All while your voice has pitched off into whine after whine, “Y-Your?”
The alien pulled his mouth off of you after one more suctioning pop! and then sported yet another tiny grin, “Whilst you’re in this room, yes.” A fat glop of spit spanked out across your hole next and he moves his thumb to fuck his salive inward, “Mine.”
“O-Oh.” Your jaw flails open some and you feel yourself drooling from the instant he starts feeding his thumb to your cunt. It’s only one finger but fuck, nothing could quite compare to it.
Dabura tipped his head aside as he twirled his thumb around your insides, “You seemed to like that,” He pointed out hotly, breaths fanning into your skin, “Being called mine.“
Your hips did that thing they did earlier when you attempted to flee from the pleasure he’d provided for you, “I do, but-, hahh.. none of this is important for the-“
“Oh hushhh, woman,” Dabura drawls out, fully bored of hearing you remind him about how eating you out has nothing to do with breeding you. “…Allow me to have this in peace, won’t you?” He pulls his thumb out of your cunt and spits once again before tapping at the saliva—mimicking a spanking motion against your hole.
After that, you give up on your arguments. Partially because Dabura decides to replace his thumb with two stretching fingers, and also because he seems to realize he can stimulate you rather greatly with only one hand—digits lodged neatly into your entrance while his thumb runs across your glossy clit.
Of which he’s taken quite the liking to. One could even say he grows fond of the gorgeous bundle of nerves, drawing all sorts of shapes around it and loving the feel of it jumping whenever his other fingers curl into that spot against your inner walls you adore so much.
You’re brought to not one, not two, and most certainly more than three orgasms from his fingers alone. And which each one, you try—you really, really do—to remind him of what you’re here for, but he ignores you each time.
Eventually Dabura finds himself in this drunken state, having his slicked fingers biting into your skin while he devours your cunt sluggishly with his whorish mouth.
Moaning, “S’good,” as his tongue tickles in somewhere deeper than it had previously—almost as if the damn thing were growing! “So sloppy, fuuuck,” The last curse exits his throat in a whine and by this point his hips have been eagerly bucking against the massive bed. “I love the way your pussy feels on my tongue,” He babbles, grinding his hard cock down against the mattress—rocking the entirety of the furniture in the process.
Now, even though you’ve been occupied with having your cunt licked to utter numbness, you couldn’t ignore how needy Dabura’s other appendages seemed to be for you.
You knew the moment he got hard based on how much he adjusted himself against the bed. It was like the erection he carried in between those loose fabrics of his was a hindrance to him—oozing in precum excessively from the plump head and aching to dive in between the same lips he’d been lapping at.
His tongue is kissing at your clit right when he’s about to cum from doing so, but his orgasm is cut embarrassingly short by the way your room door flings open.
The poor door slams into the wall and Dabura lets out a very adorable yelp of surprise in between your legs.
So much for that intimidating aura of his, huh…
Even so, the sound he lets out, along with his flinching are both disregarded as he focuses back on the task at hand. He’s a little lazier with his feasting since he realizes the two of you have some company now but, again, this doesn’t stop him.
“You greedy fucking alien,” A new voice hoots out deeply, shucking the door away from the wall it slammed into just to shut it properly.
“Mmmnh, Sukuna, you ah-,” Dabura pauses his words to the newly entered monster just to sluuuurp! you right up one more time. A wet, sloppy smile spilt out across his lips, “You must come taste this. It’s like-“
“I know what good pussy tastes like, no need to explain it to me.” Sukuna cuts off, stomping his way into the room with his four eyes all fixated onto you. Pink brows furrowing, “I was a human prior to becoming this,” He adds on with a wave of his hand in Dabura’s direction, “Now move over.”
“…A bossy one, I bet.” The alien breathes out sassily, not paying the man any mind whatsoever and instead playing with the lips of your cunt by pulling them apart and then letting them fall back naturally after lifting his thumb away.
Ignoring his snarky remark, Sukuna ends up shoving poor Dabura out the way and letting his lower set of hands meet the purchase of your hips. One of his upper palms comes down to smack across your ass, making you flinch away from your previously dumbed-out state.
You lift your head and glance back, eyes met with a new creature that causes your jaw to fall open all stupidly. “A-And you are?”
Sukuna seems immediately ticked off by your lack of awareness, shooting a look over to Dabura and ignoring your question entirely. “What have you been up to with our toy so far?”
Toy? Surely he wasn’t talking about you…
“I’ve only licked her a few times,” Dabura claims—knowing all too well that few is beyond an understatement.
Sukuna seems pleased to hear that regaurdless. Sporting a haughty smile, “Have you?” He purrs before gripping onto the fat of your ass and pulling your cheeks apart to steal a glance at how swollen your folds are now, “Mh. That explains why she’s so puffy down here.”
Your face is still resting against the bedsheet but that doesn’t hinder you from mumbling, “M’not puffy…”
“Cute,” Sukuna comments shortly as he speaks as though you weren’t in the room with him. “She’s fucked-out already.”
“M’not,” You huff a bit louder this time, angling your rather wobbly arms to push yourself up on all fours.
You crane your head to get a full look at him, blinking past the blur of pleasurable tears that have built up along your lashline to take all of him in. Now, Sukuna was quite the sight for sore eyes.
While he was a bit shorter than Dabura in height, he surely made up for it in just about everything else. He had dark markings splayed out across his skin just as the alien did—but there was a clear difference in them. He also carried four eyes instead of the three you’d only just grown used to, all of which were red in hue and ever-so-glaring when met with yours.
There was a smirk on his face that never seemed to leave, stretching his pinkened lips out as if every fiber of his being were better-, or greater than you in every way imaginable. You wouldn’t call it smugness per-se, but there was something rather gloating about the way he carried himself.
You could only see so much of him with the way he was positioned behind you, having taken Dabura’s place entirely and left the alien to lay on the bed somewhere to your left. Even so, you did notice that Sukuna had two of everything except legs.
He had a bulky stature, muscles bulged and stretched out across his limbs. Your eyes felt as though they had little hearts in them upon meeting the mouth stretching across his stomach. It should’ve been grotesque to look at considering the way it moved all freakishly and almost carnally.
The massive tongue would lull out to lather across his lips and you’d get a hint of sharp teeth within your view each time he did so.
Up until that same tongue extended to swipe across just about everything in between your legs. “Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind this,” He’d said in response to your almost forgotten words.
Then you felt the slippery wetness draaag against the backs of your thighs, your jittery-spread pussylips, and even your ass with the way Sukuna took one greedy lick.
Your eyes bulged out all wide in reaction. The sight of which encouraged him to watch the way your expression contorted up as he focused the rounding tip of his stomach-tongue onto your cunt, bucking in dankly against it.
“Hnngh-, fuck.” You moaned before pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth and letting your back arch again, “W-What is your guys’ obsession with-, ohgod..”
The sweet sound of your voice was drowned out in your own pleasure as Sukuna’s tongue performed the same dances Dabura’s lengthy one had done just a moment ago.
“Poor thing,” Sukuna mocked, pouting at you to mirror the one sewn into your lips, “That dumb alien hasn’t given you any cock yet, has he?”
Your torso ended up falling once again as your hands went grabbing and tugging at the sheets to brace yourself for the full, greedy feel of his tongue. Then you shook your head in response and whimpered something along the lines of no.
Sukuna shot Dabura a look immediately. “Waited for me, didn’t you?” He taunted.
The alien no longer seemed amused and reciprocated Sukuna’s looks with a flat, irritated expression, “No.”
The pink-haired man rolled his eyes. “Mh. No matter, I see why you were occupied here for so long.” His attention returned to you and he found it most pleasing to watch you try to scurry further up the bed in an attempt at escaping that blinding pleasure his dewy tongue was gifting you with. “She is rather tasty.”
Even as you arched and moaned all over the place, you still managed to return to your focus of why you were here in the first place. There was no way you were about to let these two monsters make a pocket pussy out of you and only use their tongues with you!
“Can you just-, mmmph!” It’s quick that you learn Sukuna has even less of a patience than Dabura as one of his many, massive hands come to the back of your skull and push your face into the sheets.
He’s peering down at the way you wiggle your body in response, feeling pleasure begin to overstimulate your every nerve as his tongue invades every spongy spot of yours. “Has she been demanding all this time?” Sukuna asks the alien who seems quite bored now.
Dabura raises his eyebrows, surprised that Sukuna is acknowledging him again, “Yes, I believe she’d like to be bred.” He states, pointing out the obvious.
“Awh, too bad these tests are hardly for a human’s curiosity and primarily for our enjoyment.” The pink-haired man exhales—jerking his tongue back ‘n forth and backkk ‘n forthhh against the entirety of your soddened pussy, clinging to your clit and schlepping it around with his every move.
“Sukuna,” Dabura blinks, his eyes stuck on the motion of the man’s insistent tongue. He almost feels like his own was inadequate in comparison. “I do not believe you’re supposed to-“
Another cry is heard from you and the two are quickly distracted by the way your nails are beginning to tear at the bedsheets. Ah, Sukuna only then realizes that his tongue might just be too much for you after however long Dabura had his own on you.
Leading him to feel bad for you and gesture your way whilst directing his words to the alien at your left, “Hush her up, will you?”
Dabura frowns for the nth time. He didn’t much care to be ordered around by Sukuna like this.
…But that didn’t stop him from listening to each order he was given.
Which is how he ends up with his mouth against yours while Sukuna satisfies his incessant taste for you.
——
That continued on for… heavens know how long.
All three of you lose track and the only thing you can recall is the mixed feel of Dabura swallowing up your moans and Sukuna using his stomach mouth to play with your pussy like some toy.
It’s like you were the test subject in the room—not them. They both treated your body as if they’d never felt a human before or something. Which was weird considering the two of them have had their fair share of these tests before.
While Dabura was kissing you, his hands twitched with a need for exploration, soon traveling your body and fondling with your soft breasts. Every part of your body was left either marked or swollen from their many touches or bites.
And you don’t even remember how or when but you believe you were positioned on top of Dabura while Sukuna remained where he was behind you at some point. Because of this tangled position, Dabura was able to wrap his arms around you and keep you perfectly in place as Sukuna rubbed one—of his two—cocks in between the valley of your ass.
Within this position, the alien was beneath you with his own lengthy dick freed from the restricting fabrics of earlier—tugging at his shaft whilst feeling you squirm against him and whimper into his mouth.
That went on until both creatures had painted your stomach and your spine with their seed.
But, that wasn’t even where things really began.
No, no, things started—in your mind—when they let your body roll over from in between theirs and you were left to watch with dazed eyes as Sukuna grabbed at Dabura’s face and tugged him up. Then, erect cocks freed and tapping against one another upon all the movement, the two had exchanged one slow kiss in the name of “sharing your taste”.
You didn’t know what to make of it, really.
Was it hot? Well, duh. But for the most part you were wondering if this is what both of them had wanted the entire time.
Were you just some ploy in this little game of theirs? Is this what Dr. Nanami had meant when he told you good luck?? Or—
The loud, prominently wet sound of their lips detaching from one another catches your ears as it rings throughout the entire room. When you look at their faces, you note how softened Dabura’s features seem to be. His eyes seem utterly desperate to please as they veer upwards to meet Sukuna’s hardened expression based on the angle of which the two were.
Then Sukuna lifts a hand to wipe away drool from the corner of Dabura’s lips, cracking yet another smirk before looking over to you. “You’ve got my poor alien whipped, human. I’m impressed.”
You stare dumbfoundedly, “Huh?”
Sukuna snorts, “Can’t you see it?” Gripping at Dabura’s chin, he turns his face over for you to look at. “There’s nothing in this head of his aside from you. You should be proud of yourself.”
You chew on your bottom lip again out of fear of saying the wrong thing in response, moving your gaze onto Dabura who is in fact just as whipped as Sukuna described him to be—eyes glazed over with lust and barely wiped away drool staining the side of his mouth.
When you and the alien make eye contact, his pupils seem to dilate and his cock is twitching all over again. He hadn’t the words to describe it, but from the very moment he saw you standing in this room, he was left entranced by you.
Chuckling, Sukuna releases Dabura from his grasp and then pulls away. “I suppose it’s time we give you what you want, yes?”
Now your eyes were lighting up, “Please?”
“Manners, how cute.” Sukuna hums before running a hand through his hair with one hand and motioning for you to follow him with another. “Come, let me place you in the most effective position."
Within the next few minutes, you’re hauled up into a pair of the man’s sizable arms, legs straggled out within his hold as your pussy is left to drip ‘n spill slick out all over the floor. You were a mess but the two monsters accompanying you weren’t fairing any better.
Dabura’s still sat on the bed in a foggy state of arousal, the plummy head of his cock waving in the air as it globed with honeyed plashets of cum. He was sitting there in his own disorder, unable to move until he made eye contact with your unfairly pretty pussy again.
The sheeny gloss from your arousal webbed out ever so beautifully against your lips, hole pulsing softly as it begged to be filled properly. Tongues wouldn’t satisfy you anymore, that much was clear.
Sukuna’s peering over your shoulder as he holds you up like some trophy, “Don’t tell me you’re too pussydrunk to move, alien.” He chastises, “Come breed her with me before she runs out of stamina on us.”
Dabura snaps out of his momentary torpor and staggers up on his feet, quickly looming over the two of you in the next coming seconds. Then he brings a finger to your chin to tip your face further up and his voice is a small whisper, “Tell me something first…”
You bat your damp lashes at him in that same probing manner he’d grown to admire, the sight of which makes his heart feel weird again.
“How exactly did you prepare for this? I’m curious,” He asks.
You’re still hardly lucid so, your voice is at some cockdrunken pitch as words slide out of your throat, “I rode a uh-, t-thirteen inch dildo a couple times,” You explain, giggling in thought shortly after. “Took a while to get used to…”
Sukuna nuzzles into the crook of your neck like a big cat, “And you believe that has properly prepared you for three cocks? Fuck, you’re dumber than I thought—I like that.”
You grumble something short of a curse at him but the sound only makes him smile against your skin. Then Dabura is finally closing the distance between all of you and you feel his tip sloping up against your sex.
Few words are exchanged in the next few moments as the two decide it’s time to finally stuff you full.
The first dick that slides into you is one of Sukuna’s—the lower one—which is absurdly thick as it slots into your gushy hole. Following this is Dabura’s eager cock, which has throbby veins bumping against every crevice of your insides.
By this point you’re being streeeetched all the way the fuck out and think it damn near impossible to fit all three lengths inside you at the same time. One alone was more than enough to have your eyes crossing but two and eventually three?
Oh, you didn’t think you’d be able to feel your legs come next morning.
Though this was of very little concern to you. You came into this program to be bred by monsters and that’s exactly what you were determined to do—no matter how much your poor hole would have to be stretched open in the process.
And it didn’t help that all three cocks just kept bulging and twitching inside you, smooching over one another as they explored the inner depths of your sweet cunt. Something short of a cockdrunk smile was painted across your lips but you couldn’t really feel it.
The only thing you could feel were the three fat dicks wadding their way into you—along with the hot breaths all over both sides of your neck. Then came the gobbets of cum that filled your insides to the brim. So much so that it’d spilt out of your puffed labia and sogged onto the floor beneath the three of you.
They didn’t stop there though.
No, no, your monsters were just as determined as you were so they kept on with their uneven thrusts—Sukuna bucking forward each time Dabura sleethed his hips back, all whilst bouncing you up and down like a true fucktoy.
No other experience could quite compare to how used this one left you feeling, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Their mixed seeds schliiiicked ‘n sloshed around your gummy walls, sure to take after this prolonged session of feral fucking with the excuse of sexualized testing to mask it.
It’s not until you hear Sukuna and Dabura exchanging hushed words that you finally get an answer to at least one of your many questions.
“And if-, shit.. if that doesn’t work…” Sukuna’s steady humming towards the alien, “Dabura..”
“Yes?”
“I shall have to breed you next.”
A loong, awkward silence stretches on uncomfortably before he chokes in response. Batting his lashes, “What.”
Thinking about 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 and 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, who go absolutely feral once they see a kid running to his mother with flowers that his father had handed to him and wished his mother a happy Mother's Day back in the mall you three had gone to earlier today.
𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 and 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚 who tore your stockings the minute you stepped into the house, barely giving you time to keep the bags on the floor before their lips are on every inch of your skin.
"'Nami! Hiro," you gasp, two pairs of hands essentially tearing your dress apart like wild animals. You moan loudly as 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚's lips land on your neck, sucking and biting the skin like his life depended on it.
"What has gotten into you two!?" You gasp, the sounds of fabric tearing ripping through the house. 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 sat, kneeling before your cunt, pleading eyes looking at you with hunger. "Need you. Right now, doll."
They don't even give you time to process before 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 carries you to the bedroom, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 following behind as he loosens his leopard-print tie. Sucking on your collarbone, your head lolls off on his arm, eyes fixed on 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢's painfully hard dick, imprinted through his dress shirt.
Hiromi throws you on the bed, quickly taking off his shirt and pants in a flash.
𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 settles before your cunt while Hiromi kissed you senseless, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢's thick digits rubbing your through the cotton panties. He sucked on your clit through the fabric while your other boyfriend explored your mouth making you moan against his lips.
"'Romi," you moan, mind dizzy with pleasure. 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 climbs up to you, glasses foggy. "You don't have to do anything, pretty. Just lie there and take what we give you."
And take you did.
Sometimes it was Hiromi's thick cock you were gagging around while 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 fucked your sloppy cunt on his lips, or when they hanged and your struggle to breathe around Nanami's long, veiny cock that reached the back of your throat while Hiromi ate you out like his last meal.
It was when they finally bottomed out inside you did your mind fully go haywire, blabbering nonsense as 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 fucked deep inside you, your thighs on his shoulder as he pressed you into a mating press, hips driving relentlessly.
Kissing you sloppy, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 fucked his palm while he watched his boyfriend fuck your cunt with utter determinations.
𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 didn't pull out when he came; cumming deep inside your womb that you felt full. You were not on the pill, maybe you should've kept it a secret because now they were on a mission to make their baby's mother.
Pulling out of you, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 fell back while 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 took over, fucking you with that same urgency that Hiromi had, mad and hungry. His long cock creating a bulge where it hit inside your tummy.
Pressing down on your abdomen, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 groaned, spilling inside you again, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢's cum spilling out of your abused hole. Fucking you through his high, you caught a glimpse of 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 recording on his phone for a brief second before he climbed in between you and 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, sliding his dick inside you again.
You didn't know how many times it has been while your husbands took turns to fuck you, spilling their seed inside you till your belly had an evident bulge—full of their cum.
You neither had the count of how many times you came, body shaking and convulsing, while the other held you down, cunt fluttering around their cocks.
When they felt sure that you were full enough, the two entered your pussy at the same time, their cocks rubbing against each other.
"Fuck, mmngf!" You moaned loudly, feeling all too stuffed. Holding onto your waist, they fucked you deep, a foamy ring forming at the base of their cocks; 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 's cock stretched you beyond your limits while 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢's reached so deep within you that you tasted him in your throat.
They spilled inside you together, filling you up to the brim. They pulled out, watching as both their seeds spilled out of your overflowing hole, mezmerized.
They fall spent beside you, sweaty and satisfied. 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 kissed your hand. "Sorry darling, we were too rough," he muttered, wiping away the sweat from your face.
"We had to make sure one of our seeds took, baby," said 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 from behind you, kissing your shoulder.
"Had to make you a mother," they laughed, holding you close.
in which martin looks exactly like the boy of your dreams that you made in tomodachi life. oh—and social media (as well as your friends) love watching this unfold!
pairing: influencer!martin x gn!non-idol!reader ; genre: smau oneshot, fluff, crack…, strangers -> friends ? -> lovers, short n sweet n cute !! ; warnings: swearing, incorrect timestamps, reader likes seals and mamegoma, humor of a teenage girl., they’re both silly and a little stupid c:
please DO NOT copy, repost, or claim as yours.
CREDITS: divider above from @/pixopix, any and all photos from pinterest (excluding the tomodachi martin)
maia’s note: im back !!! ok but first of all, i am not a tomodachi life larper, i’ve loved it since it was released on the ds and the photos of martin’s mii is from my actual game. anyways, i really love how this work ended up turning out not only bc of the concept of it but bc i’m genuinely just happy i finally finished a work. yes, this smau is not my finest… and there could’ve been more development… but nonetheless i like it and i hope you all enjoy reading it too ! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated !! 🩶
Definition: The Eiffel Tower is classic threesome geometry: you on all fours (hands and knees), one pounding you from behind, the other kneeling/standing in front getting deepthroated.
The restaurant in Ginza is the kind of place Hiromi picks when he’s trying and, mostly failing, to pretend he’s not exhausted from another 14-hour day. You’re halfway through dessert, laughing at the way he’s dramatically narrating the latest courtroom disaster like it’s a true-crime podcast, when you feel someone stop at your table.
You look up. Nanami Kento. Blond hair still perfectly parted, suit still immaculate even at 10 p.m. Your stomach drops. Hiromi glances up too, then does a visible double-take. His tired eyes widen behind his glasses. “Kento?” “Hiromi?” Nanami’s voice is surprised. “I didn’t know you were in Ginza tonight.”
Hiromi stands immediately—old habit from college days, apparently and claps Nanami on the shoulder “It’s been—what, six years? Seven? Sit, sit. You remember—” He gestures to you, beaming like he’s just won the lottery.
Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. Your goddamn ex-boyfriend who Hiromi had no idea you’d dated. Nanami’s gaze slides to you. Politely nodding, “Of course.”
“Well,” he says, clapping his hands once, “this is fantastic. Small world. Kento, you’re not busy, right? Come back to our place. Catch up properly.” You stare at him like he’s lost his mind. Nanami hesitates then nods once. “If it’s no trouble.” Hiromi reassures him, already signaling for the check. “Anything to catch up with an old friend, right? No trouble at all.”
You’re going to fkning murder him.
Arriving home, the apartment door clicks shut behind the three of you. Hiromi immediately heads for the kitchen, shedding his jacket over the back of a chair, “Whiskey orrr whiskey?” he calls without turning around. You drop your bag on the entry table with more force than necessary. Nanami stays near the door for a second longer than he needs to, loosening his tie with the same deliberate calm he used to use when he was about to end a long day by ending things with you.
“Whiskey’s fine,” Nanami says. Hiromi pours three glasses without asking if anyone wants ice. He hands one to Nanami first then you. You all sit. You take the couch. Nanami takes the armchair across from you. Hiromi perches on the arm of the couch next to you, close enough that his thigh presses against your shoulder.
“So.” He swirls the glass lazily. “Kento. Still doing the corporate bullshit. “Or did you finally tell them to fuck off like we talked about senior year?” Nanami smiles, “Still employed. Still billing hours. You?”
“Still losing cases I should win and winning ones I shouldn’t.” Hiromi shrugs. “Same shit. You remember that class I had to retake four damn times?” “Oh—yeah,” he says, motioning toward you with a small lift of his chin. “You were in it. Same section. Same professor. You used to finish the hypotheticals before Ikeda even finished reading the facts. I sat behind you every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Ikeda’s class. The one with the curved grading and the weekly hypotheticals that made half the section cry.” Hiromi clarifies. Nanami nods once. “That one.” Hiromi’s gaze snaps to you disbelieving, “You were in Ikeda’s morning section?”
You swallow. “Yeah.” staring into your whiskey like it might grow a mouth and save you.
Nanami continues, “We dated for a little over a year. Then I graduated early. Corporate offer came in. Timing didn’t work.” ‘GODFCKN DAMNIT KENTO why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut.’
Hiromi goes still. The room is so quiet you can hear the refrigerator hum. Hiromi takes a sip slowly. “You dated,” he repeats. Hiromi looks at you then sets his glass down with a soft clink. “So,” he says casually, “you two have history.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Hiromi—”
Hiromi lets out a short, incredulous laugh that has no humor in it. “I was in the afternoon section. Same professor. Same material. Same fucking hell. And you—” He points at you, then at Nanami, then back at you. “—were in the same goddamn classroom as him. Every Tuesday and Thursday. For a whole semester.” You open your mouth. Nothing helpful comes out. Nanami exhales through his nose—the same sound Hiromi makes. It’s uncanny. Hiromi’s eyes flick to you. “And then you met me.”
You glare. “You’re making this weird.” “I’m making it honest.” He leans back, arms crossed. “I mean, come on. My old college friend—who I haven’t seen in years—happens to be your ex. And neither of you thought to mention it until we’re all three sitting here.”
Nanami looks at you. “I thought you would have told him.” “I thought it was ancient history,” you mutter. Hiromi snorts. “Ancient history, sure. So, which one of us fucks you better?” Kento chokes on his drink, as you shoot your boyfriend a glare, “What has gotten into you?!”
“What’s gotten into me?” he echoes, “I don’t know—maybe the fact that my girlfriend’s ex is sitting in my living room, drinking my whiskey, and apparently sat behind her in the same goddamn Contracts class I used to come home and bitch about every single week. Maybe it’s the part where neither of you thought that was worth mentioning. Ever. Or maybe—” he tilts his head, eyes flicking between you and Nanami, “—it’s the part where I’m sitting here realizing the guy who used to steal my ramen and proofread my briefs is the same guy who used to fuck my girlfriend.”
Nanami sets his glass down carefully. “Hiromi,” he says gently, “That’s enough.” Hiromi’s laugh is bitter, “Is it? Because I’m just getting started.”
You stand up so fast the couch creaks. “Hiromi, stop.” He looks up at you angrily, “I’m not mad at you,” he says, “I am mad that you lied. For pulling this shit tonight. I’m mad that I invited him here like an idiot because I was happy to see an old friend. And I’m mad that—” He gestures vaguely at the three of you. “—this is happening. All of it.”
Nanami stands slowly. “I can go.” Hiromi’s head snaps toward him. “Sit the fuck down, Kento.”
Nanami doesn’t sit. He just stays standing, hands loose at his sides, waiting. Hiromi exhales, “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “That was out of line. The question. All of it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know how to process this without sounding like a jealous asshole.”
You soften despite yourself. “You’re not an asshole. You’re just… processing. Loudly.” He huffs a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. That tracks.”
Nanami goes to turn and leave, “I didn’t come here to cause problems,” he says. “And I’m not here to compete. If you want me to leave, I will. No hard feelings.” Hiromi studies him for a long beat. Then he looks at you again. “I don’t want either of you to leave.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his already wrecked hair. “You’re really gonna say that right now.”
You shrug, helpless. “It’s the truth.” He looks between you and Nanami like he’s weighing between jealousy, curiosity, maybe both and then his mouth curves into a smirk. “Alright then,” he says, sliding off the arm of the couch, settling properly beside you, one arm draping behind your shoulders, fingers brushing the nape of your neck as his eyes stay locked on Nanami.
“You still think about her?” Hiromi asks bluntly. Kento takes a sip before answering. “I don’t lie to myself about the past,” he says evenly. “Yes. Sometimes.”
Hiromi’s thumb strokes once against you, “And you?” He turns to you, voice dropping. “You still think about him?”
“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “Not like before. But… yeah.” Hiromi nods once, like that’s the permission he needed. He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Then go ahead and fuck him.” Your cough turns into a startled laugh. “Go on, baby. I know you want to.” He urges you again. You hesitate before softly saying, “Ken… come here.”
Hiromi shifts, pulling you back against his chest so you’re half in his lap, legs parting instinctively as Nanami sinks to one knee between them. Kento’s hands settle on your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up inch by inch while Hiromi mouths along the side of your neck, “Look at her,” Hiromi murmurs against your skin, “Isn’t she so pretty.”
Nanami’s thumbs trace slow circles higher, higher, until they brush the damp lace between your legs. You arch without meaning to, a soft moan slipping out. Hiromi hums approvingly, one hand sliding down to cup your breast through the dress, thumb flicking over the nipple until it pebbles.
Kento hooks his hand through your wet panties, shoving them aside. The first swipe of his tongue is slow, like he’s relearning every inch. You gasp, hips jerking, but Hiromi bands an arm around your waist, holding you still. “Easy, baby,” he soothes, even as his other hand works the zipper of your dress down. “Let him taste what he’s been missing.”
Nanami groans against you, his tongue circles your clit once, twice, then dips lower, lapping at your pussy. Hiromi’s already hard against your ass through his slacks. His arm tightens around you, holding you open, “Tell him how much you missed this,” Hiromi whispers, “Tell him, baby. He’s listening.”
You start trembling and whimpering, “I—I missed your mouth, Ken. The way you… fuck, the way you always knew exactly—” Nanami doesn’t let you finish—just doubles down, sucking gently on your clit until your thighs tremble. Hiromi finally gets your dress off your shoulders, baring your breasts to the cool air of the apartment. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to make you whine.
“Look at him,” Hiromi orders, “Look at how much he wants this.” You do. Nanami’s eyes are half-lidded and focused, blond hair falling forward as he works you over with devastating patience. When he slides two fingers inside making you whimper, back bowing. Hiromi laughs softly, “There it is. That sound I love.”
He shifts behind you, freeing himself from his pants with one hand while the other keeps you pinned. His cock presses hot and heavy against your lower back as he strokes himself lazily, watching Nanami devour you. “Think you can take both of us?” Hiromi asks, lips at your ear. “Like we talked about that one night. Remember my pretty girl?” Your brain short-circuits. “Yes—fuck, yes.” Nanami pulls back just enough to speak, lips shiny. “Hell yes.”
Hiromi nods in agreenment, before pressing a kiss beneath your ear. “You heard him, sweetheart. He’s in.”
Nanami rises smoothly to his feet, shedding his jacket, The metallic clink is obscenely loud in the quiet room. Hiromi helps you turn, maneuvering you until you’re facing the back of the couch, knees sinking into the cushions, ass presented. “Hands here,” Hiromi murmurs, guiding your palms to the backrest. “Keep them there unless one of us says otherwise.” You nod, breath hitching.
He walks around behind you, slapping your ass as Kento appears in front of you. “Hi, pretty girl.” He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Open.” You do, tongue flat, and he slides in slow—filling your mouth inch by inch until your lips stretch around him. The weight of him on your tongue makes you moan around the shaft; he exhales sharply through his nose, hand sliding into your hair to guide the rhythm.
Behind you, Hiromi lines up, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave prints, the other spreading you open. He pushes in with one long, steady thrust, your back arching with a muffled cry vibrating around Kento's cock.
“Fuck,” Higuruma rasps, “So tight after all that arguing earlier. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” You can’t answer—mouth full—but you push back against him, clenching deliberately. He groans, hips snapping forward harder, setting a brutal pace that rocks you onto Nanami’s length.
His control slips a fraction. Hiromi’s thrusts drive you forward forcing more of Nanami’s cock past your lips until the head bumps the back of your throat. You gag softly, eyes watering, swirling your tongue under the ridge just the way you remember he liked. The two of them find rhythm without speaking: one pulls out as the other pushes in, seesawing you between them until your whole body is shaking.
“Goddamn,” Hiromi growls, fingers digging deeper into your hips as he watches the way your throat works around Nanami. “Look at that. Taking him like you never forgot how.” He begins thrusting deeper, balls slapping against you with every snap. You whine around Nanami’s cock—drool slipping down your chin—as Higuruma angles just right. Kento tightens his grip in your hair, fucking your mouth while Higuruma rails you. Nanami pulls out just enough to let you gasp, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. “Words,” he says calmly. “Tell us how it feels, baby.”
You manage a whimpered, “F-fuck—full—don’t stop—” Higuruma’s rhythm stutters at your voice. They sync up—Higuruma slamming deep from behind, Nanami sliding back into your mouth. The position holds: you bridged between them, body rocking with every thrust, throat and cunt stuffed. Nanami’s thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that slipped free when you took him especially deep. “Still so good at this. Always were.”
Hiromi laughs possessively, “Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know, Kento.”
Nanami’s eyes flick to Hiromi over the top of your head, “She used to come untouched just from sucking me off,” he says, “First time it happened she cried—thought something was wrong with her. Took me half an hour of coaxing to get her to admit how close she was.”
Hiromi’s thrusts turned punishing, that comment clearly hit a nerve. “Is that right?” Hiromi rasps, one hand sliding up your spine to fist lightly in your hair, tilting your head back so Nanami can sink even deeper. “You never told me that, baby. Keeping secrets from me now?”
You can’t answer—mouth too full, throat working frantically—but your body does: a fresh gush of wetness before you come first shaking hard, muffled screams around Kento as your walls flutter and clamp down on Hiromi as his pace turns erratic. “Fuck—fuck, that’s it—squeeze me just like that—”
Nanami pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, hand stroking himself fast, eyes locked on your wrecked expression. “Where do you want it?” he asks, voice strained. You don’t even have to think. “On me,” you rasp, voice hoarse. “Both of you.”
Hiromi swears viciously as he pulls out at the last second, flips you onto your back so fast the room spins, then straddles your hips. They stroke themselves in tandem—Hiromi’s hand flying over his cock, Nanami’s slower but no less desperate—until they both come.
Hiromi comes first, hot stripes painting your stomach, your breasts, one pulse landing across your nipple. Nanami follows seconds later, spilling over your chest, your collarbone, a few drops catching your chin when you tilt your head back for him. Hiromi exhales roughly, dropping down beside you, pulling you half into his lap before reaches for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and drapes it gently over your lower half.
Hiromi snorts softly. “Ever the gentleman even when he’s fucked my girlfriend. Classic Kento.” Nanami’s mouth quirks—just the tiniest hint of a smile. “Someone has to be.”
You laugh, weak and shaky, head lolling against Hiromi’s shoulder. “You two are ridiculous.”
Nanami disappears into the hallway without a word, returning a minute later with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. Classic fuckin’ Kento, what a sweetie. He hands you the glass first. You take it with trembling fingers, sip slowly, grateful for the cool slide down your raw throat. Then he kneels again between your spread thighs and gently wipes the mess from your stomach, your breasts, your collarbones with slow careful strokes.
Hiromi watches the whole thing with half-lidded eyes, one arm still slung around your shoulders. “You always this sweet after you come on someone else’s girl, Kento?” Nanami doesn’t look up from his task. “Only when she asks nicely.”
You choke on a laugh that turns into a soft groan when the cloth brushes a particularly sensitive spot. “Stop. Both of you.” Hiromi smirks, reaches over to take the washcloth from Kento’s hand, and finishes the job himself dragging the damp fabric across your nipple until it pebbles again under the attention.
You look back up at Kento, about to ask him not to leave before Hiromi beats you to it. “You should stay,” he says, “Since it’s already so late y’know.”
Kento looks up, eyes flicking from Hiromi to you. You reach out before you can overthink it, fingers curling loosely around Nanami’s wrist. “Please,” you add softly. “Stay.” He brushes your hair to the side of your face, “Alright, of course. I’ll stay.”
Hiromi smirks lazily, already reaching for the half-empty whiskey glasses on the table. “Good. Because we’re not done catching up.” You bury your face in Hiromi’s neck to hide your blushing.
Whatta small world, indeed.
a/n: several pussy pleasure breaks were taken during the writing of this and I j wanted to share that ALSO credits to @owwllly for this masterpiece of art they drew
Synopsis. (!) Two assignments overdue: your law professor and your history professor.
Objective: After teasing them all semester, Professor Higuruma Hiromi and Professor Nanami Kento…snap.
Time: At the same time.
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader x Higuruma Hiromi
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, history professor!Nanami, law professor!Higuruma, college AU, you’re such a TEASE, driving them wiId, they’re overworked, they’re older, tutoring, STERN Nanami, fíngering, rings, p sIapping, p talking, chokíng, rídin’ Higuruma’s nose, oraI (m + f), pússydrunk Higuruma, manhandIing, dragging, running from it, bíting, BOTH, fuII neIsons, bIindfolds, guessing, DP, SAME TIME, spítting, DÚMBlFICATlON, cervíx smoochin’, big stretches, they’re FÉRAL, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, surprise at the end, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 13.2k
A/N. You babygirls said you wanted more law professor!Higuruma so…I said why not have BOTH?!
He had you next hour.
Professor Nanami Kento - head of the History Department, PhD with Distinction - had you in his next class.
And he wasn’t even half as prepared as he should be: the coffee-maker in the staff room had broken down.
Goodness knows how many times the blond-haired man has haunted that very station. Slouched over, sighing, sipping on his seventh coffee of the day.
And although he could blame it all on the higher-ups and their stingy funding, or perhaps the frat boys of Delta Jujutsu Pi that’ve made it a challenge to sneak inside—he blames you. He wouldn’t even have latched onto such a respite had it not been for the way you made his blood pressure rise…in all sorts of ways.
Nanami’s eyes glaze over, and his hand absent-mindedly drifts between his legs. Perhaps if he got his pent-up energy out first…
“Kento.” A knock at his cubicle. And Nanami jolts his hand away as though it burned-
It was Professor Higuruma Hiromi.
The head of the Law Department. Also PhD with Distinction. The man with dark circles and even darker suits, all prim and poised as he waded through the hallways with his stacks of documents—of course, Nanami was one for suits, as well.
They really brought out his broad shoulders- at least, that’s what you told him.
Another reason why he needs the coffee.
Fuck.
Nanami attempts to even out his breathing as he looks up. “Hiromi.”
If Higuruma thought anything of Nanami’s startled reaction, he makes no indication. Instead he holds up a slim file in his hand, “Are you free? Could you help me with looking over this essay?”
“Of course.”
They were the only two in the staff room right now, besides- anything to take his mind off of you.
Nanami adjusts the gold-rimmed glasses on his face before he takes the file from him. Flipping it open to find a jumble of justice and law jargon that his history-inclined brain balks at—“I never thought you’d want a history professor’s opinion on an essay about…” He squints at the title, “-the scope of judicial power and judicial review. Does this have any names of 14th century shoguns that you need me to check?”
“No- no.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face, though Nanami gets the impression that it wasn’t for him. Rather it was for whatever ravaged at the man inside- making him look up at the ceiling with a hollow sigh—“Man, I need some coffee today.”
“Understandable.” Nanami pushes his glasses up.
“The machine’s broken, right?”
“Right.”
Higuruma only lets out another sigh that Nanami relates to well.
“If it helps, Dean Yaga said it’d be fixed by tomorrow.” Nanami attempts- he never was the type of sociable guy some of the other professors were. But he gets the feeling that Higuruma was the same.
He runs a hand down his face one last time- “That’s too late, I have tutoring this evening with…” And how Nanami Kento related to that, as well. Before he seems to shake himself out of it- somewhat. “It’s alright, could you just check the grammatical and citation stuff for me?”
“Of course.” As Higuruma leans against the partition and waits, the other professor skims through the writing. It wasn’t half bad, to be quite honest, and had it been for his own class then he would’ve given it an A—none too many mistakes except for the odd careless error. At least it was human-made.
After a while of silence, Nanami’s partway through the conclusion when he asks. “Did you happen to get tired of looking through so many essays?”
“No, it’s just…” The dark-haired man sighs once more- for about the twelfth time since he came in. “-this student, you know?”
Nanami nods—he did know. “Trouble student?”
“Not quite.” He almost gulps.
Nanami narrows his eyes. “Doesn’t attend?”
“No, she attends every class.”
“Then what?” He leans back in his chair, essay forgotten now. “The legacy kid? The credit-chaser? The class clown that isn’t actually funny?”
Higuruma cuts through them all with a fierce shake of his head. “No, no, and no—” Almost gulping. “It’s just that this student is a little…distracting.”
The tips of his ears were red.
Instantly, Higuruma looks like he regrets it.
“F-forget I said anything-”
He does.
But Nanami looks squarely at the other man.
“I have a student like that, too.”
The law professor looks at him in wary interest. “Oh?”
“My star student, actually.” Pushing his glasses up, he opens up one of his cabinets and pulls out a thick, paper-stuffed file. And though Nanami Kento does collect his students’ work for the semester to review, he never does keep them quite so close - none other than yours.
Higuruma looks through them with slightly widened eyes. “All hers?”
Nanami nods, “So diligent that it’s almost distracting.”
Higuruma pulls out an empty chair beside Nanami and sits. Legs spread. Dark eyes thoughtful. “Mine, too.” He starts—“Never have I had a student ask for so many hours of extra tutoring.”
“Mine’s basically set up a tent in my office.” Nanami chuckles- though he can’t deny the slight pang it sends down to his cock. “Always taking on more assignments for extra credit, always answering questions first-”
“Always first in class and last to leave?”
“Exactly.” Nanami agrees. And he leans a hand on his desk as he watches the other man go through those papers - they were some of his most prized possessions, he feared to admit. Words from your heart. Swooping slashes of ink from your hands.
It was a part of you in those papers that Nanami Kento held dear to him- fuck, it was a part of you that sometimes he’d bring up to his greedy nose and sniff. Almost as if he could feel your skin through these very parchments.
It made him so fuckin’ hard.
But Higuruma didn’t need to know that.
Though the careful manner in which he handled those papers - how he leaned in just a little to drown in the ink - made him wonder…
“Always wearing the skimpiest skirt to class?”
And the other man looks up in shock- as though conveying something in his silence. Oh.
He flips the file over to look at the name typed-out on the cover, and it reads—yours. Ultimately, he continues—“A-always sittin’ in the front row with her legs spread just a bit?”
Nanami nods. “Always leaning over the desk when she has to speak in private.”
There’s a slight hardening within Higuruma’s eyes - though not of any unpleasant kind - it’s almost as if something deep and carnal was stirring awake right now. “Always wearing the prettiest black lace underneath?”
“She wears baby pink for me.” Nanami can’t help but smile.
“Fuck.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face again- and if Nanami didn’t know any better then he would’ve sworn that the other professor looked even more weary than when he first came in here. “And her panties-”
“Matching set.” Nanami responds without missing a beat - and he knows he’s some ol’ pervert for this.
He knows he is.
But he also knows about the smile that’d spread across your face the moment you’d realized he’d seen. “Bent over too low when picking her pen up one class.”
“Fucking—fuck.” Higuruma sounds agonized.
Nanami leans back in his chair, making it bounce a little bit. With a slightly breathless sigh leaving him, and his cock hardening even more in his pants–he’s forced to manspread under the table a little more. “She’s a needy lil’ thing, isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Higuruma’s lips quirk up into a sensual smile - as if he was reminiscing on the memories. “Wanting to fuck her professors? Seriously?”
“Believe she’s thought of both of us at the same time?”
“Don’t even say that-” The law professor looks around, even though there was no one else here. Looking back at the man with somewhat pleading eyes, “I have tutoring with her this evening. If I can’t even fucking grade her essay without getting a hard-on then what d’you think will happen if I’m thinking of that—?”
“Oh…” Nanami hums to himself, hands lacing in front of him. The coffee-machine really was broken. “-maybe that won’t be an issue.”
Higuruma glances at him with furrowed brows, “How so?”
“What time is your tutoring with her?”
“You mean…”
The blond man shrugs coyly- “I’m not implying anything…but which one of us two do you think is her favorite?”
“And people think you’re the gentleman of us two.” Higuruma grumbles but ultimately spits out the time. It seems you’d opted for tuition classes with your law professor in the after-hours—when the offices were snug, and the department was empty. And he feels his cock perk up at the fact- how many times has he raced back home to plunge into a cold bath after your tuition classes? How many times has his shower heard your name whispered? “I’m most definitely the favorite, by the way-”
So lost in his thought, Nanami nearly doesn’t catch the sentence. He looks over at Higuruma. “Does she call you ‘sir’, too?”
“She does.”
“Well, then we’ll find out, won’t we?”
.
.
.
The two hottest professors on campus.
Higuruma Hiromi (38) with his sleek-cut suits, his polished shoes, and those sleepy eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of your soul. The depths of your body - exposed underneath him. He was a stern teacher, not afraid to make you do an assignment over and over and over again…(and you gladly would). Higuruma’s justice classes made you…wet you had to admit, hearing him bark out simulations of court cases. Orders. Commands.
You could practically hear a sigh echo out across the room every time he acted out his attorney days.
Every time he banged his gavel down made your knees weak.
It was no wonder that students in the law department tittered n’ scattered any time the ruggedly handsome professor walked past.
On the other hand was your history professor.
Nanami Kento (31) with his beefier build, his strong arms, his gentle eyes—twinkling down kindly upon you every time he corrected a mistake. Which - you have to confess - you’ve made a few more times than you really had to, just to feel his molten gaze upon you again and again. He often caused your heart (and something else entirely) to flutter at the deep musicality of his voice, managing to make even the most boring of history passages something interesting. Something that swept the class up easily.
Nanami was reputed around campus for being a complete gentleman - never looking down upon someone, never letting them walk in after him, never letting them pay him a compliment without receiving a sweet one back.
The dream husband.
The stern and the nice.
Both of them- frat guys hated them.
It hadn’t been intentional to join both their classes- honest!
But after seeing them on your first day, how could you not commit to maintaining a spotless attendance? You had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the class behaved in the same manner for much the same reason - though none took it quite as far as you.
The skirts. The extra credit. The bending.
Speaking honestly, you were a teacher’s pet. Through and through.
And the tightness in their pants whenever you left a class told you- they were the best professors. To you, that is.
Which is why you’d been a little less than happy when Professor Higuruma had told you that someone might be joining your weekly tutoring.
Invigilated tutoring?
What the hell was invigilated tutoring?!
You admit that you’d been forced to hold back a groan of disappointment. Picking such late hours had been a conscious decision—right up there with those tight pencil skirts that you knew your law professor loved but would never admit to.
Professor Nanami was more the type to like free, flirty pleats that barely reached your thigh - and you loved the way his eyes would follow them behind those glasses of his. Even though he pretended they didn’t.
And right now you were wearing a mix of both.
Tight on top, flared at the bottom
Seated opposite his desk - thighs shut, skirt pulled down as low as it would go - more concentrated than you’d ever been during one of these tutoring sessions. It’s been about half an hour since the start of today’s tuition. Higuruma’s office was a cosy space, decked out in the most expensive-looking mahogany banisters, and shelves, and a witness box in the far corner.
It gleamed at the light—down knowingly at you, almost as if waiting for you to make a move.
But how could you? If there was a potential visitor, then you didn’t want to risk Higuruma’s job- as much as you loved teasing your two hot professors, it wouldn’t do to get them fired!
So you kept your hands and your skirts to yourself.
And even Higuruma himself had his eyes raised, possibly wondering why you hadn’t leaned over his desk or lingered a touch at his shoulder for help.
But oh, how you wanted to…
The professor looks down at his watch, “He’s late.”
You’re glancing at the closed door, “Maybe the invigilator isn’t coming?”
“Oh, he will.” Higuruma crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Trust me, he won’t miss this.”
A shiver runs down your spine.
You wondered what made him so sure.
And yet, you edge closer over the desk to him anyways.
It’s about forty-five minutes into your tutoring session when the door you’ve been sneaking glimpses of this entire time- clicks! And a looming figure walks into the room, his figure nearly taking up the whole frame.
Your jaw drops as you realize—
It’s Professor Nanami.
“Ah- Kento.” Higuruma beckons him over warmly- and you’re nearly suffering from whiplash from watching the two interact. These two are close?! Professor Nanami had been completely normal during your last class, if just a little more distracted than usual - and what was this? “We’ve been waiting.”
He looks at you as he says this.
“I had to penalize a student for missing a few assignments.” Nanami says smoothly, before bringing up a chair beside you and taking his seat. His movements were fluid and precise - as if he wasn’t questioning for a single moment why you were here so late, why you were dressed like that for him, and why you were so damn close.
You’d been staring into his handsome face for so long that he clears his throat. “Continue.”
“S-sir?” You’re chirping- and in your peripheral vision, Higuruma shuffles in his chair.
“Continue.” Nanami repeats in a stern tone. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like that—“Just as you are. I would like to take notes for teaching my own classes.”
“You heard what he said.” Higuruma nods- and now you’re looking his way to see the most knowing smile on his face. “Continue, angel.”
Your thighs squeeze at the pet name.
Nanami quirks a blond brow and notes something down.
And so you’re ducking back into your work—
“Your blouse button is undone.”
Slightly gasping, you’re reaching down to fix it-
“No, don’t button it.” He interrupts you with his low tone, gravelly with something you can’t pinpoint. You’re looking up at Nanami to find his gaze unwavering from you already- “I was merely noting it. Nothing to fix.”
“But-”
“You unbutton it for my class, too, don’t you?” He asks, and you’re unsure what to say-
“Answer when your teacher speaks to you.” Higuruma’s humming tone echoes—and from the sound of it, he was thoroughly enjoying this. He cocks his head down at you, “Or haven’t they taught you that yet?”
“Th-they have.” You’re squirming in your seat, a slight heat simmering in your stomach. You turn to Nanami, “And I do.”
“Hm.” With nothing more said- he writes something else down in his notes.
And you think you’re in the clear.
For now.
It’s barely a few sentences later on your work that Nanami speaks up again-
“Your feet are touching his.”
You pull away-
“You’ve been writing the same sentence over and over.”
Your hand pauses-
“Your thighs are parted more so than before.”
Immediately, you’re smacking them back shut again- you hadn’t even realized. And how the hell had Nanami even seen?
And you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice - so unlike everything you know of him - as he continues. “And your bra is peeking out.”
“Never seen one before?” You mutter underneath your breath, just about to fix your collar (that you’d very purposefully left open)—
Before Nanami’s voice cuts through again. “Never seen one of yours in black before, is what.” Even as you’re looking at him in slight sensual shock- he doesn’t look up from his papers. “What happened to the baby pink you show-off in my class?”
And Higuruma merely leans back and smiles. “Black is my favorite color, remember?”
“How could I forget?” The history professor answers.
“Though I myself am curious about this baby pink of yours…”
And you have nothing else to do but gape- they knew.
Oh, how they both knew by now.
And by the looks in their eyes, they’d been dying for this very moment.
To confront how you’d been toying n’ teasing them all semester through now- enough so that they’ve apparently begun trading secrets about their unruly star student. You knew that Higuruma tended to have his ears grow hot and red any time he bumped into you in the hallway, and that Nanami would loosen his tie as if undressing whenever you wore a particularly scandalous thing to class - but you hadn’t known they’d been pushed…to this extent.
And you were glad for it.
So you sigh—slouching back in your chair. “So you both know. What now then? Do I get written up or something?”
But Nanami only looks at you through his glasses. “Sit up straight.”
He’s never uttered a command like that in his entire life during your usual lectures. And when you don’t move - merely looking at the blond man with raised brows - Higuruma pipes up. “You best listen to him now, angel.”
“Oh please.” Fluttering your lashes at them both. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”
Higuruma looks at Nanami.
Nanami calmly puts his notes down on the other’s table, and looks at you.
“Why-” He pushes his glasses up his handsome nosebridge. “-teach you a lesson, of course.”
“Both of you?” You could feel the elated giggles bubbling up in your throat- and you could feel the space between your legs start to grow wetter already. Looking between both of them—“Do it then.”
And then it’s a blur - you don’t know where Higuruma’s lips end and yours begin. He’s reached over the surface of his desk to kiss you like a starved man- and he groooans into that very kiss like you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hand on your cheek.
The tips of his canines start nibblin’ on your lower lip- and you’re kissing him back even deeper. “Shit-” Higuruma’s husky tone scorches across your face, “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do this for so fucking long.”
“Mmm, you kiss like husband material.” You’re giggling into the kiss. Both of your hands end up on his shoulders, and you could feel the shifting of his muscles through his slim suit.
“Shit- and you talk like trouble.” He echoes out in an almost pained tone- like every second that his lips were away from yours ached.
And those plump, pursed lips press against yours once more—so much sweeter than you would have expected this booming lawyer to kiss. He’s using the hand on your cheek to tilt down your chin- “May I?” Before the short nod you give lets him slither his tongue in wetly, lappin’ at your sweetest taste. “Shit, you’re really like sugar on my tongue.”
And you’re whining into the fervent kiss, letting it go on for a few more minutes before you’re breaking away with the most lecherous plop! And a thoroughly flushed professor chasing after your lips drunkenly-
“And what about you…” You’re kissing down Higuruma’s sharp jawline, looking at the other man who’d been sitting quietly this entire time. “-sir? Haven’t you wanted to kiss me even once this semester?”
Nanami shivers but he hides it well. Uncrossing his legs and revealing the most rock-hard, aching bulge between his legs—“Kiss? Perhaps.”
And you’re gulping at the sight.
Higuruma scoffs out a slight burst of laughter. “Perhaps.”
“But I’m a gentleman, my love.” Nanami continues, leaning back in that luxurious armchair. He takes off his coat to reveal a pale blue button-up, and beneath that was revealed the most chiselled body you’ve ever seen. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and beckons towards you. Manspread. Lap so welcoming. “Which means I’ve thought of far, far worse.”
Higuruma - with a final sloppy kiss plastered across your mouth - lets you walk over to Nanami.
Which you do on wobbly legs- plopping down unceremoniously on his lap. More than enough space there for you. He wastes no time bending you into shape in his strong arms, flipping you around to face the other man, and spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open-
Riiiiiip—!
“Whoops.” Nanami’s thoroughly unapologetic tone gruffs against the shell of your ear. Two of his vein-covered forearms were hooked underneath your elbows, and Nanami looks on boredly at the clean split down your skirt—“I always thought you’d look better without these anyway.”
Before he’s spreading your legs even further across his lap. Tearing it even more.
Exposing you for nothing but your tremblin’ legs and those drenched panties. Pretty black in color.
So lacy that it was practically nothing.
Higuruma’s eyes widen, “Dirty girl.”
Nanami breathes, “No, that’s called being a slut.” And shock runs through your body at his words- at Nanami ‘Gentleman’ Kento’s words. Before it’s suddenly overtaken by the sudden feeling of him smearin’ aside your panties and stuffin’ his fingers inside.
Those thick crowns dooooown to the golden ring on his middle finger.
They were long and thick. Swirling and swirling the tip of his digit right ‘round your clit- and when you’re shuddering and unable to take it any longer—he pulls away and licks off that excess slick with a slurp!
Humming to himself as though it was the greatest delicacy in the world. “One thing you should know about me, darling, is that just because I’m gentleman-” And you’d been so caught up in his ragged tone, you didn’t even realize that he’d snaked his hand back down between your legs. “-doesn’t mean that I’m not depraved.”
And he’s ending off the sentence not with a full stop- no, but with a sudden shove of his fingertips between your folds. So swollen n’ sweet with slick.
You buck and he lurches his hand out to slap you on top of your pussylips.
“Down, darling.”
“Please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for.
But Nanami’s mouth waters already at the sound of it, and he’s keeping it at bay by pushing n’ pulling on the first ring of muscle at your cunt. “I said down.”
Head throwing back against his collarbone. “Oh.”
Fucking you with just the first inches of his fingers- “It doesn’t mean that m’not desperate.” Continuing as though your eyes weren’t bulging, as though your legs weren’t shaking, as though you weren’t arching off of his muscular chest. “It doesn’t mean that m’not ready to debase this pussy like she deserves.”
“Y-you mean—” You’re hiccuping, eyes starting to water at the sheer raw stretch. It was the type that left your pussy burning in the most delicious way - the feeling of having Nanami Kento’s scourin’ fingertips eager to enter your cunt. “-that whole gentleman thing was just a lie?”
“It’s not.” He responds. Final. His blond strands fall over his forehead as he keeps his eyes locked on your glistening hole, scissoring his fingers at that entrance n’ spreading you even wider. “I’m nice…”
Adding in a third finger before you’re even registering his second.
“-to everyone but this slutty pussy, that is.”
“Sh-shit—” Mewling at the top of your lungs, you’re clawing down Nanami’s strong forearms. They were the perfect thing to hold onto- just about the only thing you could hold onto as he utterly ruined your pussy with short, jerking thrusts.
Bulging the sides of your velvety walls open with his globular tips.
Cold metal ring shocking you.
So thick that he manages to probe into a few of your sensitive spots without even trying. Dragging his flexible fingers across every inch of you.
Scissoring and opening up and scissoring—deep.
Tears track down your cheeks at the sheer stimulation.
“Go easy on her, Kento.” Higuruma can’t help but groan at the sight of your pretty crying face. And soon enough, you’re hearing the metallic clinking of a belt buckle- “Don’t want to break our star student, now, do we?”
Nanami purrs against your temple. “Mmm, I don’t mind.”
“Just remember that she’s tutoring with me.”
The sound of Higuruma’s belt hitting the polished wooden floorboards is enough to make your eyes startle open- and oh, how you’re so glad it did.
Because then you’re greeted with the sight before you: of Higuruma Hiromi in utter ecstasy. All because of you.
He’d taken your seat from prior, chair angled perfectly to face the show taking place in front of him.
Where Nanami had your legs spread aaaaaall the way as far as they would go - until Nanami could hear your joints threatening to pop - and facing the dark-haired man. His dark eyes glinted as they stared down at your glistening hole, swallowing Nanami’s rams easily.
Slurps n’ squelches emanating like music.
Cunt dripping everywhere over the history teacher’s tight trousers. And the larger that puddle you were forming seemed to grow, the harder Nanami’s hammerin’ pace seemed to become.
You could barely keep your eyes open long enough to see Higuruma tug down his black pants- that throbbing erection of his making an appearance. He wraps his hands around his thickened base and starts tugging, soft grunts leaving his mouth at the rapid pull-pull-pull of his cock. “Shit, she’s so fucking wet- be a little nicer with that pussy o’ hers, would you?”
“Hmmm…I don’t think she deserves it.” And with that said, Nanami plants yet another sodden spank on top of your cunt. Ring grazing your front- “She hasn’t learned her lesson yet, has she?”
That stinging sensation zaps throughout your entire body and makes you buck. “I-I have—”
Before yet another thwack! of Nanami’s calloused fingertips follow.
Harder, this time.
“I was talking to this pussy, actually.”
And he doesn’t even wait for the primal sting to pass by before openin’ your cunt up and thrusting his fingers inside again. In and out.
Push after push into your gooey depths.
You’re so sensitive n’ wet by this point that even the slightest movements have you emanating out the loudest sounds. Squelches upon squelches—every time he’s hitting a spot deep inside your hole. “Mhmm…mmmhm.” You could feel Nanami’s head slightly nodding above your own, as if locked deeply in a conversation with your pussy’s sounds. Just one whine of yours and he’s spankin’ on you once more- “Wait your turn, my love. She’s talking t’me.”
And Higuruma- ah, Higuruma has the audacity to snicker at the action. “Now that’s just bullying, Kento.”
“Is it?” He’s slappin’ down on your pussylips once more. Listening for the sound, “She says it isn’t so.”
You’re sending a narrowed glare his way that makes the law professor roll his eyes fondly.
“Oh, alright alright-” And he half-heartedly waves off at his colleague. “Be a little nicer to my dear student, won’t you?”
“Spoiled brat.” Yet another spank. Nanami sinks his canines into the shell of your ear, and he’s tuggin’ and teasing—he’s spreading his legs even further and settling you down. With your back against his rippling chest, he pushes and pushes his greedy fingers inside your pussy. “And why do you think you- hah, deserve that, huh? Haven’t you been fucking torturing us all semester long now?”
Higuruma groans. “Can’t deny that, angel.” His hands fly even faster up and down his cock- ravaged and reddened with need.
“Mhmmmm.” The blond-haired man agrees, “Haven’t you been wearing those slutty skirts expecting to get fucked in them? Haven’t you- fuck, haven’t you been wearing that damn lingerie hoping we’d take a peak? Aren’t I right?”
He waits for your pussy to answer first- and then you’re answering. “I-I mean-” Attempting to.
“Haven’t you been bendin’ over and shit just because you wanted to show up in our wildest dreams? To consume our thoughts and make our cocks twitch?”
“Well-”
“And we did.” Higuruma pipes up next. He was so needy that he was practically bucking off of his chair, making it creak with movement. Short, jerky thrusts.
“Oh, yes we did.” Nanami continues. He leans down to your ear, as if exposing a secret- “I’d look forward to our classes everyday, my love. I’d have to fuck my fist raw before class- just so I wouldn’t fuck you senseless in front of everyone like how you were begging me to.”
Higuruma moans as he thumbs down the line of his flared tip - that pinkish, slippery line. He twitches as though he’s near to cumming already. “Me- me, too…”
“And you still expect me to be a gentleman?”
You’re restless, opening your mouth to defend yourself and—
Nanami only leans down and spits a glittery wad of spit between your pursed lips. “Don’t talk when the teacher’s talking, darling.”
And your ears pop with pressure-
He’s hittin’ the plushness of his palm against your pussy with a loud smack! Smearing the curves n’ divots of his fingers dooooooown and up your walls, down and up.
His crown fingertips reach for your deepest innards- and you swear you can feel him stroking your very cervix. Runnin’ his frigid ring across your walls.
Drawing a few lines and marking his placement right back there, before he tunnels his digits at a frenzied pace - fingers almost nothing but a pale blur between your legs. His speed is so feverish that it leaves your sheen tricklin’ all down your thighs.
Trickling and trickling and—
And then you feel Nanami hook his fingers against your g-spot.
The pleasure shoots up your body like a lightning strike, “O-oh my god—right there, Kento.”
“Kento? Who’s Kento?” Nanami doesn’t even falter his fingering to answer, cooing in that tone that you’d almost mistake for something sweet. “I think you meant sir-”
“S—fuck.”
“Say it.” He huffs against the side of your face. Teeth almost out for blood- “Say it. Call me ‘sir’ or you don’t get to cum.”
“I—”
“Say it.” Higuruma, to your surprise, echoes from his seat. Where he had his gaze burning into your spread-open pussy n’ his mouth drooling at the vision of you—“Say it, angel. I need to see that pretty pussy cum.” Hands rubbing faster and faster-
“She deserves to cum, mhm.” Nanami nods. “But do you, huh?”
“I-I do.” You’re nodding up at your desperate professors. One just barely in your line of vision- but his fingers were working up such a storm. His slightly-tanned arms pinning you down, working your pussy open, hitting that target of your g-spot like a cute button. Again and again—
Blond hair ruffled. Glasses slipping down his sweaty nosebridge.
And then the other one that was just creamin’ his precum down his hands. With his hands on his swollen erection - one of them creating a tunnel for him to fuck his fist, the other flattening over his dribblin’ divot to stop from cumming already.
Sleepy eyes half-lidded. His pale thighs shivering as they bucked n’ rutted.
And the vision itself is enough to make you cum- but then again it just felt so good on Nanami’s hands, and underneath Higuruma’s gaze. So you can’t help but let your lips wobble open—“P-please let me cum-” Stars bursting behind your vision once Nanami presses down on your clit as well. “-sirs.”
The two older men look at each other.
“Sirs?” Higuruma asks, voice breathless with ecstasy.
“She just begged for both of us.” Nanami grumbles out - though not quite unhappily. It made his cock twitch deep in his pants to have you whimperin’ like this, and he continues. “Alright then, you slutty pussy.”
And it takes only a few more strokes - a few more direct thrashes along your g-spot - for you to hurtle straight into your high.
It’s so strong that you’re seeing white behind your eyelids—and your mouth blabbers out an unintelligible combination of both professors’ names. Toes curling. Sweat beading down your temple.
Nanami holds you down as you’re thrown through wave upon wave of your orgasm, your hips bucking up and down desperately. Riding throughout your bliss- and if that wasn’t already enough, he counts underneath his breath to measure how long it takes between your peaks of euphoria. Before hittin’ away at your g-spot just in time with each one.
The sensations that take you over are just incredible.
And your head falls back limply against Nanami’s shoulder.
Shivering. Almost as if you were in heat- and your pretty pussy gushes out honeyed slick as though to give credit to that statement.
Lavishing Nanami’s open thighs with all your sap—Higuruma eyes the mess and gulps. “Kento, give me a taste of that.”
Nanami scoffs. “In due time.”
“Kento, I need her pussy on my face now.”
Slowly but surely, you’re fluttering your eyes open at the feeling of being shuffled around - only seeing the beautiful, brown eyes of Higuruma Hiromi staring down at you. When did he get so close?
“Hiromi?” You’re blubbering out stupidly, still suffering from the aftershocks of your previous high. Those zapping bursts of electricity made your thighs twitch sensitively- “I mean- sir?”
Higuruma shivers, “You trained her well, Kento.”
“Mhmmm—” Nanami noses down the column of your throat proudly.
“Maybe now it’s time for a reward then, huh?”
You’re perking up. “Yes, please.”
Nanami snickers. “You spoil her.”
And in almost no time, you’re finding yourself handed off to the law professor - Nanami stands up and gets off of the armchair. While Higuruma takes his place-
At least, that’s what you think is going to happen.
But what ends up happening instead is that Higuruma seats you down on the chair, letting your barely-clothed pussy rub up against the cushion. Something in his eyes gleams at the way you’re squirming, and he speaks to you in a gentle tone. “Can you turn around and hold the headrest f’me, angel? Be a good girl f’me?”
“A-alright?” Confused, you’re just doing what he says. He meant that you had to turn and climb your knees onto the seat, ass turned towards the professors, back slightly arched.
“Mmm, good.” Higuruma admires the view. “Arch that back just a little more f’me now, alright?”
“Like this?”
And still not sure what he was about to do, you can only follow his commands. It almost feels like a doggy position- and you hold onto the wooden headrest for dear life.
“Mhmmm.”
And Nanami’s the first to mutter to himself, “Don’t tell me you’re…” He takes in the sight of you - with your front resting against the backrest of the chair. You have your spine bent, your ass cheeks displayed for them, your cunt not quite on the seat—“Hiromi, you dirty dog.”
“Couldn’t help myself.” Steadily, Higuruma’s kneeling on the floor.
There’s no warning before he then shoves his face nose-deep into your cunt- straight from behind.
Higuruma grabs onto either side of your ass cheeks, his prominent nose curvin’ up the slit of your pussy. He’s using his grip on you to draaaag you further down onto his face—“Mhmmm—spread those legs.”
He’s muttering.
He’s spitting- stern lips pursing and letting out a rivulet of saliva.
It strikes vertically down your cunt before Higuruma’s running his fat tongue over it. Smearing around the mess he’s made- but most importantly, smearing around the mess that you’ve made.
You’re whining as Higuruma’s textured tastebuds seem to take over your pussy. All the way from the plumpness of your folds, and then dipping between them to tease your hole- you’re still so sensitive from the massage that Nanami’s fingers had simmered into you. And you’re trembling your thighs further open, “P-please- fuck-”
“I’m a lawyer so I’m really good with my tongue, y’know?” Higuruma pants out, scorching hot against your needy pussy. “But that means my fees are high, too-”
“A-and what are your fees?” You’re sobbing out.
“Mmmm…” He takes the time to think—and by that, you mean that he rovers his mouth over where your clit was throb-throb-throbbing. The law professor takes his sweet time spreadin’ open your pussylips with his tongue, before letting his tongue flop out n’ draaaaaag down your clit-
And his next words are so lecherously muffled. “Ride my nose raw, sugar.”
You gasp.
In the background, you can hear a gruff bout of laughter that notably doesn’t belong to Higuruma.
You grip onto the headrest of the chair harder than ever- because in a split-second, Higuruma’s thumbin’ your folds open and stuffing your hole all full of his tongue.
So loooong and slick- curving right against the roof of your pussy. It makes you jolt to feel his honed, flexible tip zig-zagging its way down your channel—mazing and mazing inside that it’s as though his wet muscle was never-ending.
Higuruma Hiromi was damn ravenous.
He feels your knees start to slip away from him- and he claws his fingers deep into the globes of your ass cheeks to pull you back. Uncaring if you’re whining for mercy- “A-aren’t you supposed to be the nice one, sir?”
“Spoiled.” Nanami’s voice echoes from the distance.
“Mmm- keep calling me that, yeah?” Groans wrenching from the back of his throat at the mere sound of that title being said in your pretty voice. How nice it was to make you beg. “And no—”
“No?”
“I am being nice by letting you ride my nose, aren’t I?” His head jerks just a little upwards to look at you- and Higuruma can just barely make out the shock on your face. “I know how much you’ve wanted to ride it-”
“Hiromi-”
“Ever since ya fuckin’ met me, huh?” His rough tone vibrates through every vessel of your body- pushed even further by the constant swabbin’ he was doing inside. Swab after swab. “Ever since ya first saw me- don’t think I didn’t see how you stared at me.”
You’re clawing further up the headrest. “B-but how did you know-”
“Oh, angel…” Higuruma almost chuckles. Something dark and depraved- “If I was wrong then you wouldn’t be so fucking wet- I can barely breathe.”
Both of his roughened palms plaster around your thighs. Draaaagging you bodily - as though you were nothing against him - to glue your pussylips to his own lips.
He makes out with your pussy like a man parched.
“And I don’t need to.”
Your vision blurs with pleasure as Higuruma spreads your folds perfectly apart- and starts rammin’ his tongue into you wildly. Thick and thirsty for the taste of your sweet, sweet juices—any time that even a mere droplet of your sap starts to drip down your thighs- you can best believe that Higuruma was whipping his head down to slurp it up. “Harder.”
“I-I am-”
“Faster.”
“Fuck-”
“Raw, I said raw.”
Practically addicted to it.
He’s pussydrunk in with just a few sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. And you yourself can feel your pupils start to circle inside the whites of your eyes.
Spreading yourself even further on the chair to meet his utterly ravenous mouth-
“Didn’t forget about me now, did you?”
Nanami Kento sounds the closest he’s been since he had you on his fingers- which could feel like minutes, hours, days ago by now. It takes you significant effort to blink away the clingy film of tears on your eyes, and you’re opening them to find that he was actually…standing right in front of you.
Nanami had rounded the side of the armchair - and if you looked up, there his handsome face was. So now you have your law professor at your behind, and your history professor’s crotch in front of your face. His pants much too tight.
His cock thick and throbbing underneath there.
Clasping onto the headrest of the chair, if you raised your head juuuuust a little then you’d be able to mouth over the twitching erection he hid underneath there. “K-Kento?”
Nanami looks down at you through his gold-rimmed glasses. Grinning at your teary expression, “Only a few minutes with your nice teacher n’ you’ve already forgotten your manners, my love?” His hand falls to his formal pants, “Guess we have to go back to lesson one.”
“O-oh…”
Nanami had already unbuckled his belt and lets it drop to the floor—clink! Followed right along with the popping of his buttons, it doesn’t take too long before you’re face-to-face with his rock-hard bulge. Achingly hard. Almost painfully hard.
Barely held together by his boxers, he seeps out such volumes of precum that it creates a dark patch on the silken fabric. It glistens just a bit under the dim lighting of the office- something that makes you gulp.
And something that makes Higuruma nudge his tongue even deeper inside of you- shit, you could feel yourself growing more aroused. And he could taste it.
“Did you know she gets sweeter n’ sweeter the wetter she gets?” Higuruma slurs from in-between your legs, latching onto your clit with a loud squelch! “And you won’t believe it…but right now she tastes like the tastiest strawberry candy- heh.”
“Is that so?” Nanami’s nose crinkles as he looks down at you. He’s admiring that drunken expression on your face for a little bit, before reaching his right hand down and clasping at the back of your head. “Filthy girl.”
You shiver. “C-can’t help it-”
“Ah ah—not another word out of you.” The blond-haired man continues. His grip tightens- “I expect you not to speak when your professor is speaking-”
Cocking his head just a little, Nanami takes a glance at the famished way that Higuruma was kissin’ between your legs. Gasping. Gulping.
He had his mouth gaped wide open and was dragging it across every inch of your pussy that he could reach- sticking that long tongue of his between your pussylips. You’re almost sandwiching his tastebuds for a bit before he manages to flicker his tastebuds inside again—then in and out, in and out, in and out.
Faster than before.
Reeling back out to slap! your pussy with the flat surface of his tongue.
Then probin’ back in again.
Higuruma’s just being so loud-
“-and when this pussy is speaking.” The rest of the history professor’s sentence makes you gasp - brain so muddled that you’d almost forgotten what he was saying. Almost forgotten that he has a firm grip on your sweaty scalp—one that he’d now turned into two hands upon your sweaty scalp.
Tugging your head forwards as if you were nothing but a ragdoll to smush your face against his boiling hot erection.
Your jaw falls open and soon enough, you’re salivating all over his clothed cock.
Tongue lavishing across the cotton of his boxers- feeling every ridge n’ vein along his shaft.
He groans at the feeling of your heated mouth, and his fingers dig into your scalp even deeper. Tugging. Needing. One set of your fingers reach upwards to fumble its hem, and you take Nanami’s round, reddened tip into his mouth.
Moaning at the large size of him.
Moaning at the salty taste that floods your mouth-
“Hey now…” Higuruma’s choked-up tone echoes from behind. You’re feeling his tender fingers start to pull your hips back onto his face, “-don’t steal my star student away.”
“Have you forgotten that she’s my star student, too?”
“Her pussy’s on my mouth right now- so who’s in charge?”
“Well, let’s ask how she feels about it…” Nanami’s voice trails off—and only too late are you realizing that he isn’t talking about your pussy this time. He’s talking about you- waiting for your answer.
And you’re attempting to muffle out something, letting the globular edge of his cock swirl around your mouth a few times. Around and around. Just the crown of his mushroom tip prods into your every orifice inside- you’re opening your mouth to answer when Nanami jerks his hips forwards.
Fucking his cock deeeeep into your maw.
And with it, whatever words were in your throat, too.
“I dunno about that-” Nanami hums down at the chokes n’ strangled gasps you’re letting out, just the barest noises of whatever was able to filter past his swollen shaft. “-but it sounded like a ‘you, sir’ to me.”
“Didn’t know you were that depraved.” Higuruma spits out. Dark eyes narrowed as he’s grinding you back to him n’ lapping away at your oversensitive pussylips.
“I’m a gentleman, what can I say?” The other professor responds.
As the slurps n’ sucking continues, Nanami looks at you through half-lidded eyes. He admires the way your mouth leaves a glittering glaze of spit from the tip of his cock and doooown to about halfway down his shaft—so cute how you couldn’t fit it all. “And as Head of your pussy-” Fuck, when did he even assign himself that? Is he pussydrunk already? “-I say you can’t cum until you’re fitting my cock aaaaaall the way…”
The history professor’s left hand lifts off of your scalp. Then dragging down the front of your throat - down, down, down.
“-here.”
He points to a spot way past the back of your throat.
He fucks your mouth like he’s agonized every second he isn’t reaching for it.
Higuruma growls.
And thereafter it’s almost like a tug-of-war - on one end you’re being hauled forwards by Nanami’s grip on the back of your head. His hands strong and unwavering, no matter much you’re gasping for air- fuck, the ever-gentlemanly Nanami Kento was gone for the feeling of your mouth tightening around his hot cock.
Rutting those toned hips up into your velvety cavern like an animal-
“Just a little more.” That left hand of his wraps around your throat now, his thumb markin’ at the spots where he can feel his rounded tip probing inside. “Just a liiiiittle more now- about four inches? Heh.”
“Mmm—” Your eyes go wide in surprise.
And Nanami responds by pushing his hips even further, nearing the tip of your nose to those curls of blond at his base. “C’mon, c’mon.”
And on the other end, Higuruma had his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. Into the flesh of your ass. His tongue fishing around your insides before he pulls out and starts nibblin’ on your damn clit—
He’s thirsty. Depraved.
“Noooo, angel.” He’s gluing his chin to the front of your pussylips. Head moving back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as the law professor lashes his tongue across. “Come back to me-”
“Mmm—” You’re being pulled off of Nanami Kento’s reddened, dribblin’ cock with a plop! Just from the sheer pressure of Higuruma manhandling your body from the other side - dragging you all down his handsome face. “Fuh-fuck-!”
“Where’d you think you’re going?” Only for Nanami to barely let you breathe for a split-second before he’s pulling your mouth down his shaft again.
Shovelling a gooooood few inches of his vein-covered cock inside- he marks that spot out on your throat. Even deeper than the last time you had him- “Mmm, not bad. Just a few inches- mmm, more.”
“Ride my nose.” Higuruma begs from the other end. Breath breezing down your gooey core, it makes your thighs shiver- “Ride my nose, I don’t care. Ride my nose, ride my nose—”
And you’re just so overstimulated from all ends.
From the draaagging of Nanami’s thumb down the front of your neck, from the sensual touch of Higuruma’s nose being sandwiched between your pussylips, from the pleasure of them both playing with your body. It’s as if you’re their favorite toy to taste, to fuck - to worship because of the way they were being driven to absolute madness by those carnal sensations.
You can only jolt your body back and forth.
Down Nanami’s cock. Up Higuruma’s ready face.
Riding his nose just like you wanted- “S-so—” Somehow barely managing to gurgle out past the pulsating tip of his cock, “So close-”
“Close?” Higuruma perks up. “Fuh-fuck- I have you, angel.”
“Remember- no cumming until you take it here.” Nanami presses his thumb somewhere near where your voicebox was bulging with the intrusion of his inches. “You’re not there yet, darling…”
“But-”
“Please let her cum.” But to your surprise, it’s your law professor who is pleading your face.
Nanami raises a blond brow, “Oh?”
“Let her-” He slurps away on your swollen nub- sensitive and throbbing. He’s hollowing his cheeks out to get that suctioning sensation, already making your knees feel weak with pleasure. “Need her to- fuck, want her to cum on my tongue. Let her cum already.”
Nanami thrusts even deeper, “Hmm…I dunno.”
“I’m the one asking you.” Higuruma grumbles. “Let her cum-”
“Mmmpf- please.” And your brows furrow as the pit of bliss in your stomach grows stronger.
“Let her-” The law professor continues, “I’m begging you- fuck, she’s becoming so sweet. Let her cum-”
Pale brows furrowing. Sweat lines down his temple- “I don’t…just fit-” And he’s scrapin’ his bulbous tip down the roof of your cunt—all the way along to the back of your throat and targeting even further. “If she takes it until-”
Higuruma’s nose helping your grinds and bounces. “Just let her cum-”
“If she takes it-”
“Fucking let her-”
“G-gonna—” It’s the last thing you’re managing to get out before a sudden slam! of Nanami’s hips shut you up- and before you know it, you’re feeling the carnal scratch of his pubic hair. The feeling of his tawny curls at your skin, the intrusion of his throbbing shaft all the way down your throat.
And his thumb tapping where he’d marked a treasure spot - a spot he was supposed to meet. Nanami doesn’t have to say a single thing for Higuruma to bite his sharp canines down on your clit.
And before you know it, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night.
Not just your second, but your third, perhaps even your fourth.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, and your moans are nothing but soft crackles at the back of your throat. Higuruma draaaaags you all throughout those waves of bliss, elongating them with the thorough lavishing of his tongue.
Probin’ into every sweet spot.
Inside and out.
He digs his fingers into your thighs, now accomplishing his dream of having you ride his nose. Because you’re being made to arch your back n’ bounce your hips lecherously up and across.
Hittin’ those best angles- the peaks of your high absolutely burst through you.
And Nanami? Your history professor was enjoying the view - cocking his head to the side and smiling as you shatter on Higuruma’s face. He watches about half your orgasm bate, before starting to fuck his swollen cock back in and out of you. Thrusting.
“Now now—” Nanami murmurs. “You should be thankful my rubric’s so generous this time.”
You can only look up at him with your teary eyes.
That sight is enough for him to bite down on his lower lip n’ stop himself from cumming. No, he had something more important in his mind…
“Thirty seconds to finish up.” He says meanly. “Before I either drag your pussy off of his face or you have to drag yourself off, m’kay?”
“Tch- stingy.” Higuruma keeps lappin’ at you even after your high has passed.
And once that thirty seconds of more bliss have passed - just like Nanami said - he grips both hands ‘round the back of your scalp and wrenches you off of his cock. Off of Higuruma’s mouth. He’s bending down to spit straight between your lips—
“Now, I’m gonna be nice this one time because you took all of me. Understood?” The history professor states, so firm. “Nod if you understand, my love.”
You nod.
“Good.” He then kisses your lips- tasting you, tasting himself. “Now…do you want it from the back or face-to-face? Because m’fucking you filthy either way.”
“From- from the back.” You pant out.
And Nanami gives a single, stern nod before he lets you go. “Brace yourself.”
You’re collapsing back into the chair—sitting your ass down on it this time. Before the law professor suddenly has you in his arms - he supports you in getting off of the armchair and standing up. Now in the middle of his office, you’re stumbling onto your wobbly feet.
Your arms loop around Higuruma’s neck. “Hiromi…”
“Mmm, I love it when you call me that.” Higuruma kisses you.
“How unruly.” Both of you snap your heads at the sound of buttons popping- only to find that Nanami was taking off his button-up. And you were right- fuck, you were so right. He was so thoroughly chiselled underneath, almost Herculean in nature.
With the most naturally defined ridges n’ curves of his muscles—his firm pectorals, his washboard abs, his meaty thighs that make an appearance.
Nanami sheds of all his clothes before he stares down the two of you- “Addressing your professor by name? Clearly going against objectives to get ready? Making me jealous? What an undisciplined class, no need to be standing around.” He looks at you, “I’ll be fucking you until you can’t stand, anyway.”
A shiver runs down your spine—“Oh.”
“Now, darling.”
Higuruma lets you waddle away to Nanami- who merely swivels you around and bends you over the edge of his colleague’s desk. Papers and ink flying everywhere across the office as he does.
Folding you forwards until your head hits the table. Kneeing your legs apart.
It’s hitting you like a truck - your history professor is about to fuck you against your law professor’s desk.
“Stay still.” He gravels in your ear.
Nanami’s barely letting you take a breath before rubbin’ his bulbous tip down your dripping wet slit from behind. Hand gripping his thick hilt—up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Getting his inches coated in a glaze of your sap, Nanami hums at the feeling of you attempting to contract around him.
“This naughty girl’s reeeeal needy for me, huh?” Scorching breath heating up your skin, he kisses down your arched spine. “She says she can take all of me- can you?”
“Y-yes—” You’re sobbing into the polished mahogany. Bucking your hips up, “I want it, sir.”
You’re jolting as his puckered, pinkish tip smooches at your wet entrance- he’s just so thick that he can plug your hole up easily. Nanami’s tip throbs against your hole, and he reaches a right hand down to feel your pretty stomach - to feel where he’s going to be hittin’ with his hungry cock.
He breathes out airily—“You want it?”
“Yes-”
“Say please.”
“Please-”
“Hmmm?”
“Please, sir.”
Nanami lurches his hips back, back, backwards- “As you wish then, teacher’s pet.”
And then you’re being stuffed with an inch or two of him.
And by stuffed—you were seriously stuffed.
Thick and thorough. Almost too big to even fit in - Nanami fills out the orifice of your cunt without even trying. His ruby-red tip just manages to squeeze between your pussylips, before the first ring of muscle at your entrance makes him falter.
And he’s gritting his teeth at the sheer tightness, voice coming out as nothing but a hiss. “Fuck- didn’t you say that you can take it?” He’s pressing his left hand down at the base of your spine, leaning his weight in to keep you still. “Come back, my love- class isn’t over yet.”
You hadn’t even realized you’d been clawing at the desk until now. “S-sir—”
Just that is enough to make Nanami’s ravaged tip twitch inside of you- spurting out a few more dollops of pre. “Yes, darling?”
“I d-don’t—” Fuck- you swear you could feel him grow even harder inside of you at the sight of your teary expression. Staring at your history professor over your shoulder, “I don’t know if it even can fit.”
“Awww, my poor baby.” And you should know better than to let Nanami Kento hush your cries, you should know better than to let him lull you.
But you can’t help but get pulled into his big, strong arms anyway.
“My poor, poor baby.” And from one corner of the room, you could hear Higuruma’s distant laugh. Although you don’t have the time to wonder what it means, because Nanami’s continuing- “None of those boys ever taught you how to take a real cock, hm?”
And you can only nod.
“None of those boys have ever fucked you right, hm?”
Nodding once more.
“Don’t you worry, darling. If you can’t take this one…”
He presses a chaste peck against your hairline. Letting his soft breath waft over the crown of your head, and his chest ripple with his words, soft.
“-m’gonna make it fit.”
And that’s the last thing you’re hearing before Nanami’s rammin’ his swollen, aching cock into you like an animal- his furious cockhead burrowing in deep.
He manages to shovel just a few more inches inside, before the snugness of your channel acts up once more. Leaving him barely even able to reel his hips backwards—just that much of a tight fit that’s making his eyes roll to the back of his skull.
He shakes.
His groan cracks at the back of his throat. “O-oh.” Both of Nanami’s hands fly to the sides of your hips, and his fingers fucking shake where he holds you. “Oh, yeah.”
“Shit-” You’re flinching at the scalding sensation of his breath. Gusting.
And even that mere shiver- Nanami catches onto it. And it’s only making him clasp your body even tighter, pulling you into him—“You’re really not getting away until we make it fit, my love. Good luck.”
No matter how much his ravenous hips are rutting n’ bucking and trying oh-so-desperately to hammer even more of his inches inside- he can only fuck you in short, needy half-thrusts. The rest of him left to throb wildly behind you, he keeps on stretching and stretching your insides just to fit inside.
Each one of his bucks so desperate. So greedy.
The pointed tip of Nanami’s cockhead prods away at your innards as though he’s trying to claim every single ounce of space inside you-
“Have you forgotten that this is a joint class, Kento?”
Higuruma’s voice is enough to send pulses of adrenaline flowing through your body - and you’re just managing to look around Nanami’s toned frame. The law professor stands behind the two of you with his arms crossed, clothes mostly on except for his trousers being tugged down.
He held his blushin’ cock in one hand, pumping furiously at the sight of his star student.
Nanami himself sighs—though he doesn’t stop his sloppy scouring of your innards for a single second. He looks straight at the other man as he asks- “Oh yes…would you like her now or after me, Hiromi?”
“Now.” Higuruma narrows his heady eyes at the two of you. And the blond-haired man slightly growls at his answer, seemingly grappling with the thought of leaving your pretty pussy right about now- “But don’t pull out.”
You feel like you’re experiencing whiplash. “What?”
Nanami only raises a sharp brow.
And Higuruma himself can’t help but crack a sleazy smirk-
Before you know it, he’s rounding the two of you. Coat off. White button-up flapping open.
He tugs on the smooth, black tie that was hanging haphazardly from his neck- and gestures something indiscernible at the other man.
Though, clearly both professors understood.
Because one second you’re slouched on top of Higuruma’s desk, droolin’ stupidly over some important documents as Nanami Kento pounds you into oblivion - and in the next second, he’s lifting you off of it.
Cleanly off the desk.
One hand wrapped around your waist, the other putting you in a headlock.
He pulls you up as though you’re nothing- and you’re ogling the way his biceps bulge around your throat. Feeling the cushy firmness of his strength—“W-what are you-”
“D’you know what a standing full nelson is?” Higuruma asks. And for a second you think he’s asking you - maybe this was some strange sort of quiz - but then Nanami nods.
“Thought that only happens in fiction? Don’t tell me you’re a secret freak, Hiromi?” He scoffs, though he pulls out either way.
“And look who’s talking…” Then Higuruma looks at you and taps his shoulders. “Hold on, angel, he’s going to lift you.”
“Shit…”
As expected, you’re holding onto Higuruma’s broad shoulders for leverage- whilst Nanami bends and loops his hands around your legs. His strong forearms where your knees were.
Scooping you up into his arms.
Holding them up.
Holding you up.
Hoverin’ well over six feet in the air.
Yelping, you’re digging your nails into the law professor’s shoulders - but if it hurt, then he doesn’t’ react to the pain. Honestly, you don’t even think he could feel it right now—because Higuruma was holding out his tie.
Measuring it against your face-
Tying it around your face like a blindfold.
He knots it at the back of your head, and suddenly the room is curtained in nothing but pure black. You could only hear the gruffness of both men’s chuckles, and Higuruma asking. “Everything alright, angel?”
“Of course, it is.” Nanami mutters- almost to himself. Though he does stretch your legs a little wider, presumably to show to the other man—“Look how fucking drenched she is.”
“Good girl.”
“Naughty, you mean.”
“I must beg to differ.”
And you’re arching against Nanami’s toned front, the plushness of his abs digging against your back. It was the most sensual massage you’ve felt in your entire life- “Please- ngh, what’s with the blindfold?”
“Oh, that…” Higuruma starts. “Guess.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
Brains wracking- “You aren’t going to leave me hanging, are you?”
“No.”
“Is this a roleplay?”
“No.”
“A kink thing?”
“Well…”
“A BDSM thing?”
“Guess.”
You’re feeling helplessness wash over you—“B-but, I already did-”
“No, my love.” Nanami’s the one to speak up this time. He leans down so that he’s pressing an innocent kiss to the edge of your hairline, “We’re going to make this slutty pussy guess which one of us she’s being fucked by.”
Your jaw drops.
And your cunt grows even wetter.
An occasion that the two professors are watching with awe-
Higuruma in particular finds himself breathing out—“And your time starts…now.”
And then you’re hearing the shuffling of his trousers- right before a sudden proddin’ intrusion starts up at your entrance. It was hot and throbbing—so needy that your teeth are set on edge by the sheer volume of precum that he was emptying out.
You’re feeling his thick tip start to eeeease in- squeezing in past the tightness of your channel for a bit before pulling back and fucking you ruthlessly in semi-thrusts.
“H-Hiromi?” You guess. Surely, with him being the one that was removing his trousers it must be…
“Wrong.” Nanami grins.
And then you’re feeling his cock give you a few vicious pumps before he’s pulling away - leaving you all empty and yearning for more. Your glistening hole clenches a few times around nothing, before a sudden globular tip starts kissin’ your entrance once more.
You’re bucking back in Nanami’s arms in an attempt to figure out just who it might be- but the history professor holds onto you firmly. Not a single inch.
Not a single inch less.
Whoever was fucking you takes no more time before swabbin’ his swollen erection inside once more- biting back a groooan at the feeling of your tightening walls.
It’s the same short, jerky thrusts from before just to fit in.
“Sir?” You’re gasping out. But surely, it can’t be twice in a row…“No wait- is it Hiromi this time?”
The cadence of his hips stops abruptly. “Can’t get enough of the law, can you?”
Nanami.
And you don’t know whether it’s the fact that you’re just feeling your brain melt at the sheer stimulation between your legs, you don’t know whether it’s the fact that both handsome men had you sandwiched between their muscular bodies—it was just driving you wild. Making you stupid.
A line of drool slicks down the side of your mouth, and Nanami doesn’t hesitate before leaning in and lickin’ it off. “I should punish you for this.”
“I-I—oh, fuck.” Whatever words were on the tip of your tongue get swallowed up by the feeling of yet another round, ruddied cockhead pushing inwards. Pulsing. Prying apart your walls. And you’re noticing that this one is slightly slimmer than the last, more pointed, more honed, more of its curvaceous tip that tilts to the left.
It makes you shiver at the feeling of his bawling divot dragging across your walls so perfectly. “Is this- sir-”
“Try again, angel.”
It was a struggle to piece your thoughts together, and Higuruma’s voice is the only thing that makes you realize-
“Hiromi.”
“Mhmmm—” Before you know it, the other man has one hand dipping between your jittery legs. His fingers easily locate your clit to tug n’ pry like the cutest gummy - how sweet. And he’s timing it to the constant probes of his looooong, smooth cock. “Good girl. A++ for that.”
“You’re quite the generous grader.” Nanami scoffs. “I would have given that a B.”
“What can I say? I do have a soft spot for her…” Higuruma’s cock was slightly lengthier than Nanami’s, you’re noticing - though not quite as thick. And with less veins that didn’t massage your inner orifices as much, but made it soooo much easier for him to slip even deeper.
Especially with this position, he manages to probe his cockhead further past where Nanami’s thicker one was able to fit.
Reaching almost for your throat with his blushing, frenzied tip- Higuruma gives a final roll over your clit before he’s pulling out. Letting a few ribbons of sap gush down your legs after him-
Ones that are being fucked right back up with a second length.
Thicker. Harder.
Throbbing so much that you swear you can count them all the way at the top of your head- Nanami’s shaft was next. And he’s lavishing your entrance with so much attention—draaaaagging his vein-decorated shaft in and out. In and out. In and out.
“S-so?” He rasps out from behind. Higuruma’s cockhead had mazed open your insides just a bit more, and Nanami struggles not to let his voice tremble. “Which one of us, darling?”
“Y-you—”
That earns you a bite on the shell of your ear. “No.”
Before he’s pulling back out.
And your breath catches- “Wait- I meant sir. It’s you, sir—”
“Too late for that now.”
“Awww, come now.” Higuruma coos as well. “How are we supposed to make an example out of our star student if she just keeps makin’ mistakes?”
“I think she’s gettin’ lazy now, huh?” The other man responds. And now both of their ruddied cockheads were droolin’ all over your entrance- mixing with the sweetened syrup that was already dripping out of you and creating such a mess. “Maybe she doesn’t deserve our cocks at all?”
“Don’t say that—” You could feel your law professor’s eyes turn to you. “You deserve it- hah, don’t you, angel?”
Shivering at the feeling of both cocks sandwiching between your pussylips. Now that they’d both pulled out- it’s as if they were fighting over who can be next. Rubbin’ and teasing. “I do—” Your voice cracks on that last note, “P-please, I do-”
“I’m still not convinced.”
Higuruma continues, “Promise us you’ll be a good girl? That you’ll listen to what your professors have to say?”
“I will I will-”
“Promise us that no more of that teasin’ stuff in class?” His prominent nose slides down the column of your throat, breathing in your essence. “None of that bending over?”
“Yes—” But you could already hear the question in your throat - and it seems that they could, too.
And it makes Nanami gruffs out. “Because - forgive us - but you do realize that it’s not just us seeing your little…display, darling?” He spreads open your legs even wider, and Higuruma’s ministrations grow even more frenzied on your clit. Squeezing. Pinching. Flicking.
And you’re restless- “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean to say that there are others more…undeserving that see those legs of yours, those panties, those tits.” There’s a sharp edge to his words—“Those boys in class can’t take their eyes off of you.”
“We can’t either, of course.” Higuruma responds. Squeezing his cock inside- “But at least that little performance of yours is meant for us, right?”
“Don’t like the way they look at you.” Nanami’s also squeezing his cock inside now - both of them bullying your hole at once. Creating a stretch that makes your vision go white- so much carnal stimulation that your entire body wracks with shakes. “Don’t like the way they turn to look. Don’t like the way they have to mysteriously…disappear into the bathrooms any time you do your little show.”
“Given…we do the same.” The law professor continues—“Because fuck- how fuckin’ pretty you look all dressed up in silk. Makes it hard not to cream my pants everytime I see you- but none of those boys have the balls to back that admiration up.”
Giving you a thorough slam—both of them.
Higuruma’s the one to continue, “But we do.”
“Because I rub my cock raw to you, my love.” Nanami ends off, holding you close to him. “N’ none of those boys could ever fuck you like we do.”
“Yes, p-please—” And you’re pushed between both of their sculptured fronts. Unable to see them- but you could feel the ridges and curves of their muscles, the way they were both leaning in as though they couldn’t get enough of you. “I only want…ngh.”
One of your arms wrap around Higuruma’s neck, and the other reaches behind you to attempt to clasp onto Nanami’s.
“Just want the two of you…”
“Hmmm…” Nanami’s cock twitches at your gooey entrance- “A+”
And then they’re alternating between fucking you—
“Hiromi.” You’re gasping at the intrusion of his smoothened tip, the velvety texture of him reaching for so many spots inside you but most importantly- that g-spot.
And then he’s pulling back out.
“Sir- fuck, Professor Kento.” Nanami swabs his thickened tip inside and hits that precise spot. Although he decides to take it a few steps further this time and dig his rounded tip into the very back of your pussy, bottoming-out. “Shit shit shit—”
Thrust after thrust.
Pulling out. Shovelling back in.
Making you guess just which one of your two older professors were takin’ over your pussy right now- it made your head dizzy just trying to keep track. Bounced up and down in their arms.
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi—” Before your voice shatters at the feeling of…two thickened lengths attempting to fit inside. Fighting against the resistance for a few sloppy strokes before they’re siiiiiiiiiiiinking in- “And Professor K-Kento, sir…” The feeling of their large, slick-glazed cocks were just incredible - rubbin’ against your walls and one another. Like nothing earlier.
It was a stretch like you’ve never felt before, hittin’ spots that you didn’t even know you had.
And both professors held onto your shaking body tight- they shovelled their lengths in and out of you. Two blushin’ cockheads heading for your g-spot, before their slide-slide-sliiiiiding all the way down to end up at your cervix.
Stretching apart your walls.
Making your channel bulge.
Letting the curves of their mushroomy tips drag apart your walls, n’ press into the sweetest spots of your nerves. Both of their heavy ballsacks smack-smack the front of your cunt right on time with their thrusts. Thrust after thrust.
Again and again.
Nanami grunts at the sensation of Higuruma deep inside you, “F-fuck…”
“You can say that again.” Higuruma himself replies.
By now, the jostlin’ about had meant that your blindfold was falling off- and you could see the two men upon either side of you. Shovelling their hot cocks deep inside your pussy, positively ravaging you.
The law professor’s fingers weren’t letting up on your clit just yet, either.
He quirks his digits just a bit to draw a little heart upon it—and soon enough you find yourself throwing your head back with a moan. “G-gonna-”
“Shhhh—” Nanami grins. His ears keenly listen to the noises from between your legs - they were just so much louder now that you had two thickened shafts ramming into you. “This pussy says she’s gonna cum soon, darling.”
“Y-you little-”
A harsh hammerin’ on your spongy cervix. “Pardon, my love?”
“Nothing—oh.” Even their thrusting styles were different - Nanami Kento with his thorough, solid slashes as though he was trying to reach your womb every single time. And Higuruma Hiromi with slightly slower, smoother glides of his cock - soothing through the nooks n’ crannies that Nanami had activated first.
It was the perfect combination.
Naughty and nice.
Though not exactly in the way you’d initially thought.
And perhaps this manner was what was making you so desperate to cum again- “Please-” Gasping. “Let me cum—”
You’re looking between a grinning Nanami and Higuruma. Dazedly.
“Please may I-” Choking out in-between the moans and droplets of saliva that were gushing out of you- falling onto Higuruma’s puffed-out chest. “-cum, sirs?”
Both of their rock-hard cocks twitch deep inside of you.
And you’re briefly seeing a silent conversation pass between them-
“Go ahead, angel.”
“Cum all over my cock, darling.”
And it might have been minutes, it might have been seconds, it might have been split-seconds later once you’re crashing into your high. The waves of white-hot pleasure taking over you until it felt like your body was burning up.
Feverish.
You’re crying out as you attempt to bounce your lewd hips back into both their shovelling shafts- but they’ve already got you. They’re holding onto your perspired body - so limp now with pleasure - and lettin’ their pointed cockheads hit each and every nerve bundle inside.
Pinpointing your g-spot with their lengths.
Targeting it especially through peak after peak.
After peak.
Your cunt trickles with honeyed slick- and it slips between your three bodies to drench Higuruma and Nanami’s cocks. Their thighs. Their bodies.
Making it even louder to thrust into your cunt—you’re forced to raise your voice just a little just so that they can hear. “Sh-shit…” Until eventually you’re feeling so raw on their relentless cocks that you’re unsure whether you want them to elongate those waves of bliss or whether you want to fucking run away—“It feels so- oh, it feels…”
“And what do we say?” Nanami’s deep baritone croons out. He doesn’t slow down for a single second as he speaks- even though he himself was feeling a little sensitive by this point.
He hits his full ballsack against the front of your cunt and hisses- “Can I have it all inside…” You’re looking between them with wide, heart-shaped pupils. “-sirs?”
And you should’ve known what that would do.
You should’ve known how much that would break them.
Because with only a few final thrusts, both Higuruma and Nanami cum inside you with loud slurps! of your greedy cunt. Gobblin’ up all those white ropes of seed that they were emptying out - sheer volumes that they’d been holding onto for hours, days, this entire semester.
Nanami furrows his golden brows and presses his face into the crook of your neck. Groaning as he fucks you through his orgasm, “A-and here I was just expecting a thank you…”
“Our girl always was the sweetest.” Higuruma coos.
Your history professor rides through his high with his teeth grit, jaw working overtime to keep his noises to a minimum - he wanted to hear your soft gasps and groans even more. Though his body shakes as it keeps on thrummin’ with pleasure.
Visceral.
Meanwhile, your law professor let out such husky grunts after each splat! of cum that he emptied out against your womb. He couldn’t even handle fucking you properly anymore and his hips kept on stutterin’ through his waves.
Cheeks flushed. Gaze locked on you.
He didn’t want to tear it away.
Both of them are cumming so much that you nearly can’t tell who’s who - with their dollops of heated, syrupy sap. Each divot bawling them out messily—you can feel them stick against the end of your pussy, right where your cervix was, before being stirred about by the motions of their cylindrical shafts.
Their prominent veins massagin’ your sweetest spots. Their globular cockheads pumping every single droplet inside you.
Every single droplet.
Not a single bead of that ivory cum escapes—but they’re both still looking at each other with the same idea.
And you’re seeing yet another silent conversation pass between them that you miss. “Oh?”
In almost no time, Higuruma and Nanami have you splayed out on the polished desk - back against its flat surface, legs held high in the air. This time, however, both their faces were between your pussylips and attempting to beat the other—
They were lappin’ their dual tongues over your leaking cunt like they were starved.
Nanami’s hand pressing down on your stomach to make a few more droplets spray out of your hole- Higuruma’s hand flicking over your clit still.
You lean back on your elbows and watch them.
And what a sight it was: both their handsome faces between your legs.
They nudge their noses against the creamy layers on top of your cunt, and swivel the mess around like mad. You could see through your tears the exact moment - the exact moment - that their pinkish tongues meet in the middle.
Where Higuruma’s tastebuds overlap with Nanami’s as they’re suckling on your clit- and they both flinch at the sensation before moaning—
And that’s before the door clicks.
“Oi, why are the lights still on? Don’t you know that campus has closed a long time ag-”
You pause.
Nanami pauses.
Higuruma pauses.
And so does Professor Shiu Kong - Head of the Mathematics Department, also PhD with Distinction.
His jaw drops as his eyes drift over from the mess of clothes on the floor, to the mess that’d been made of you. Bite marks all over your throat. The blindfold still around your neck. And even more - you could see the way his hands tighten on his files as his gaze probes deeper, taking in your leaking, lecherous cunt.
No one moves.
Except for Shiu, who steps inside.
Your heart was in your throat.
Getting ready for a berating of some kind- or potentially even worse. Perhaps a suspension, perhaps Nanami and Higuruma would be fired at once-
“So…” Shiu’s husky voice interrupts your thoughts. “-got room for mathematics?”
A/N. Heheheheh ofc we got room for youuuuuuuuu Shiu <33
IS IT A CRIME TO LET YOUR LAW PROFESSOR FUCK YOU ON YOUR COUCH?
SYPNOSIS. after that heated encounter in his office, you've been dodging his lectures and ignoring every reminder of what happened that night. higuruma hiromi is more frustrated than ever—until he finally stops waiting and takes what you've both been circling for weeks.
PART ONE
PAIRING. law prof! higuruma hiromi x law student! reader
A/N. art by hunnismoker on x. first post after getting flagged !!!
you’ve been ghosting his class for almost two weeks.
not on purpose…at least, that’s what you tell yourself. it started innocently enough when midterms starts, three back-to-back exams in four days was hell. then the cold came, a scratchy throat turning into fever. you told yourself you’d catch up once the fog cleared but even after the fever broke, you didn’t go back.
a stupid group project drama piled on next. one groupmate ghosted entirely, another argued over every citation, and the third kept rewriting your sections without asking. you spent nights in the library staring at shared google docs, highlighter bleeding through pages you weren’t reading, mind drifting somewhere else entirely.
and underneath all of it was the real reason.
the humiliating, pulsing truth you couldn’t admit out loud even to yourself.
every time you pictured walking into that lecture hall, sliding into your usual seat, you felt his eyes on you again. the one he gave you that monday evening in his office when the door was locked and your knees were on carpet and his hand was fisted in your hair.
the memory played on cruel repeat, you could still taste him—still feel the stretch of your throat when he fucked it.
you tried to study criminal intent the way you always had: highlighters, flashcards, color-coded notes. but every time the mens rea slides appeared in your mind, you saw him at the podium instead. black marker in hand, diagramming voluntary manslaughter like it was nothing, his voice never failing to sound low and tired.
you imagined him turning to the board and writing your name in the margin next to “reckless disregard.” imagined him underlining “guilty mind” twice, then looking back at you over his shoulder with that unreadable stare.
your stomach would knot. your thighs would press together under whatever table you were hiding at. heat would crawl up your neck and settle low in your belly until you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom just to breathe.
so you skipped.
there’s no way you could focus anyway.
one lecture became two. two became four. by the sixth absence you were submitting everything online. you polished every pdfs attached to curt emails with subject lines like “week 7 reading response” and “torts ii problem set.” you were still doing the work. still getting As on the assignments he graded without comment. no one could say you weren’t keeping up.
but he noticed.
higuruma hiromi doesn’t chase students. he doesn’t send gentle “concerned professor” emails with smiley faces or pull anyone aside after class with a hand on the shoulder and a murmured “is everything alright?” he isn’t built that way. he marks absences in neat red ink on the roster.
so you knew he’d seen it. knew because the last assignment you submitted came back with feedback that was longer than usual.
“strong analysis of actus reus, but your discussion of mens rea lacks depth. consider the subjective vs objective standard more carefully. office hours are still available if clarification is needed.”
was that an invitation? you don’t know.
you deleted the email without replying. closed your laptop. buried your face in your pillow and tried not to think about how badly you wanted to walk into his office again.
instead you stayed away.
it’s a thursday evening and the sky is already dark by 5:30, rain hammering the campus like it’s trying to wash the whole place clean. you’re huddled under the inadequate bus shelter outside the law building. you opened your phone for the third time to check the ETA, the next bus kept getting pushed back.
your fingers are numb on the screen. the cold seeps through your hoodie, makes your teeth chatter in small, embarrassing bursts.
you keep thinking about how stupid this is—standing here freezing when you could have easily just stayed in your apartment with the heater on and another excuse not to face him.
you only came here cause you needed air.
you needed it because every time you close your eyes all you see is him.
the tired lines around his eyes that made him look older and sharper. the way his jaw tightened right before he told you to open your mouth. the low rasp in his voice when he said “that’s it” while he pushed deeper, like he was grading your ability to take him.
it's making you insane.
it makes your chest ache now. it’s not just want, you actually need him. shame mixed with this stupid, gnawing need to know if he thinks about it too. if he replays the way you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, or the sound you made when he finally let you breathe. you hate how much space he takes up in your head.
headlights cut through the downpour suddenly. a black sedan slows, pulls right up to the curb in front of the shelter. the passenger window slides down with a quiet hum.
“get in.”
his voice slices through the rain noise.
you stare for a second. higuruma is behind the wheel, his face is half-shadowed, but you can see the faint crease between his brows.
you hesitate.
“i’m not waiting,” he says. “the bus is delayed. you’ll be here another half hour at least.”
you feel your pulse jump in your throat. it’s really him, sitting there in the driver’s seat with the same rolled sleeves and the same tired expression you’ve been replaying for weeks. part of you wants to stay right where you are under the shelter and keep pretending none of this exists, because getting in the car means facing whatever this is head-on. but the cold is biting through your hoodie, your jeans are soaked at the bottom, and the thought of waiting out here alone while he drives away makes your chest tighten. you already know you’re going to regret it either way, but standing here freezing feels worse than whatever happens next.
your feet move before you decide. you duck out from under the shelter, yank the door open, slide inside. the door thuds shut and suddenly the world is muffled…everything else gone quiet except your own heartbeat thumping loud in your ears.
higuruma doesn’t look at you right away. just checks the mirrors, pulls away from the curb smooth and controlled.
silence stretches awkwardly for a few minutes.
“address,” he says finally.
you rattle off your off-campus place a few miles away. he nods while he inputs it into the gps without comment. the screen glows blue on the dash … then more silence. the wipers sweep steady as you steal glances at him, his hands on the wheel look steady, veins standing out against his skin.
“six absences,” he says out of nowhere. “consistent, aren’t you?”
“i submitted everything on time.”
“i know.” he flicks the turn signal, merges left. “your work is fine. better than fine but you’re not in the room. that’s still a problem.”
you swallow, “i’ve been busy. you know midterms…group stuff, also got sick for a bit.”
“convenient timing.” he chuckles as heat floods your face.
“it’s not like that.”
“isn’t it?” he glances over. “you avoid the lecture hall, avoid my eyes. but you still send polished assignments like nothing happened.”
“i didn’t know what else to do.”
“you could have come to office hours.” his tone is even, you almost hear boredom in it. “asked for clarification on mens rea like i suggested in the feedback. like a normal student.”
but that’s the thing, there’s nothing normal about this.
“i didn’t think you meant it,” you mumble.
“i don’t say things i don’t mean.”
the car fills with quiet again.
“where do you live?” you ask suddenly, desperate to change the subject, to make this feel normal.
he raises an eyebrow. “why?”
“just curious. i mean you know where i live now.”
“apartment near the courthouse district. walking distance, it’s convenient.”
“do you… drive students home often?”
“no.”
another turn, the surroundings are familiar now. your complex is coming up soon.
“you’ve been thinking about it,” he says.
“about what?” you play dumb.
“monday.” he doesn’t elaborate, he doesn’t need to.
you press your thighs together, try to ignore the pulse between them. “yeah.”
“and?”
“and it’s hard to sit in class pretending it didn’t happen.”
he pulls into the loading zone in front of your building. you hear the engine idles, rain drums on the roof. he finally turns to look at you—like really look. eyes dark and unreadable, but you want to believe that there’s something under the tiredness. hunger, maybe. or just patience wearing thin.
“then stop pretending,” he says quietly.
you stare at him.
“come inside,” you whisper. “just… to get out of the rain.”
he studies you for a long second. then reaches for the keys, kills the engine.
the sudden quiet is deafening.
he gets out first, circles around, opens your door like it’s nothing. you step out into the downpour again, colder now after the heater. he doesn’t offer an umbrella…he probably doesn’t have one. just waits while you fumble for your keys, both of you getting soaked in the short walk to the entrance.
inside the stairwell it’s warmer, but your clothes are heavy with rain and dripping onto the concrete steps. you lead the way up, feeling him right behind you—close enough that you can hear the soft squeak of his shoes on each stair, feel the faint heat coming off him even through the damp air.
your hands shake a little when you unlock the door. it swings open into the small entryway, string lights from the living room spilling faint yellow across the floor.
you step inside first, kick off your soaked sneakers by the mat. he follows closing the door, he doesn’t take off his shoes right away, he stands there observing your place. he takes a mental note of it, looking at the stack of textbooks on the coffee table, the open laptop with his class portal still pulled up, the half-empty mug of tea.
you turn the lamp on higher, then head to the kitchenette to grab towels. anything to keep moving. “i’ll get something to dry off with,” you mutter, mostly to fill the quiet.
when you come back with two towels, he’s already peeled off his wet jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. his shirt is clinging in places—white fabric turned semi-transparent over his chest and shoulders, sleeves still rolled up, forearms flexing when he takes the towel from you.
he dries his hair roughly, then his face, eyes never leaving yours.
you try to focus on drying your own arms, but your gaze keeps dropping to the way the wet shirt outlines the lines of his body—the faint definition of muscle under the fabric, the dark trail of hair visible through the damp material where it sticks to his stomach. your mouth goes dry. you remember exactly how that skin felt under your palms last time, how his abs tensed when you swallowed around him.
he notices it.
“you’re still shivering,” he says, voice low. he steps closer, takes the towel from your hands, and starts drying your hair himself. fingers brushing your scalp through the fabric. it’s so gentle that you froze.
“take the hoodie off,” he says after a moment.
your fingers fumble with the hem. the wet fabric peels away from your skin with a cold suck, leaving you in just your thin t-shirt and bra underneath. the shirt is clinging too, nipples hard from the chill and from him watching. you cross your arms instinctively.
he drops the towel on the floor. reaches out, hooks two fingers under the hem of your t-shirt, and tugs it up slowly. you lift your arms without thinking. the shirt comes off, lands somewhere behind you. his eyes drop to your chest, then back to your face.
“still cold?” he asks.
you shake your head. you’re burning now.
he steps in until your back hits the wall by the entryway. one hand plants beside your head, the other slides down your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through the bra making you inhale sharply.
“tell me to stop,” he says quietly.
you don’t.
you don’t want him to stop.
his mouth finds yours—harder than the first time he kissed you in your memory. there’s no buildup, just pure hunger. his tongue pushes in immediately and you moan into it, hands scrambling up his wet shirt, fingers digging into the fabric over his chest. he groans low against your lips, presses his hips forward so you feel how hard he already is through his slacks.
your fingers curl into the wet cotton of his shirt, pulling him closer even though there’s already no space left between you.
he breaks the kiss first, just enough to speak against your lips. “kitchen counter now.”
you nod, legs shaky as you lead him the few steps into the narrow kitchenette. he doesn’t give you time to think. his hands find your waist, lift you onto the counter in one smooth motion like you weigh nothing. the cold granite bites into the backs of your thighs through your damp jeans. you gasp at the temperature difference.
“these need to come off,” he mutters, fingers already working the button of your jeans. you lift your hips when he tugs, helping him peel the soaked denim down your legs along with your underwear.
you’re bare from the waist down now, legs dangling off the edge, thighs trembling slightly from the chill and anticipation. his eyes tracing the curve of your hips, the soft skin of your inner thighs, the way you’re already glistening for him.
“spread wider,” he says.
his palms slide up the insides of your thighs, thumbs brushing close but not quite touching where you want him most. you desperately shift forward, chasing his hands; he presses one palm flat to your lower stomach, holding you still.
“patience,” he murmurs. “you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks. you can wait a little longer.”
“hey i told you i wasn’t–”
“ah yes, right… you were busy, right pretty?”
his thumb finally grazes your clit and your hips jerk. he does it again, slower, watching your face the whole time. your breath comes in short pants. he circles then collects wetness on his fingers before bringing them back up to rub slowly.
“you’re soaked,” he continues, “been like this the whole ride?”
“since you pulled up,” you admit, which makes him hum in approval. two fingers slide inside you without warning, stretching you open. you moan, head tipping back against the cabinets.
“look at me,” he says.
you force your eyes open. his expression is focused, almost clinical, but his pupils are blown wide and there’s a flush high on his cheekbones.
he’s affected too.
he adds a third finger, stretching you further. the slight burn only makes it better.
“good,” he mutters. “just like that.”
his free hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you into another kiss. his tongue fucking into your mouth in time with his fingers. you’re rocking against his hand now, chasing the pressure, little whimpers escaping between kisses.
“mhm…so good.”
he pulls his fingers out right when you’re teetering on the edge which you whine in protest.
“not yet,” he says against your mouth. “want you to come on my tongue first.”
he drops to his knees between your spread legs. the sight of him there, kneeling on your kitchen floor, hair damp and messy from the rain—it does so much things to you. he hooks your legs over his shoulders, hands gripping your thighs to hold you open.
he doesn’t tease this time. just leans in and licks a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit. you cry out, hands flying to his hair. you feel him groan against you. his tongue is relentless, pointed flicks over your clit, then sucking it between his lips. he alternates, never letting you settle into one sensation long enough to predict it.
“hiromi—” his name comes out broken.
he pulls back just enough to speak. “you can go louder, right? wanna to hear it.”
“hiromi,” you moan again, louder this time. he rewards you by sucking hard on your clit while two fingers slide back inside, curling ruthlessly against that spot.
you’re dangerously close. your thighs start to shake around his head. he doesn’t let up, he keeps the same steady rhythm, tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem.
“come,” he orders, voice muffled against you. “now.”
your whole body tensing as you come apart on his tongue. you cry out his name, fingers tightening in his hair, hips grinding against his face. he doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering from overstimulation.
he finally pulls back, his lips and chin all shiny. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, stands slowly. his erection is straining against his slacks now.
it’s obvious and thick.
you reach for his belt with shaky hands. he lets you undo it, lets you push his slacks and boxers down just enough to free him. he’s heavy in your hand, hot and hard, precum beading at the tip. you start to stroke him making him hiss through his teeth.
“enough,” he says, catching your wrist. “want inside you.”
he lifts you off the counter, hands under your thighs again. he turns, carries you a few steps into the living room, and drops down onto the couch with you straddling his lap. the cushions sink under your combined weight.
his cock is still hard, pressed up against your stomach now. he lifts you just enough to line himself up. you feel the blunt head nudge at your entrance…thick and insistent.
“relax,” he says, “breathe, won’t you? let me in.”
you try. you really do. but the stretch is already intense just from the tip pressing in, and your body tenses instinctively. you bite your lip, hands braced on his shoulders.
“i’m trying…” you mutter, half-laugh, half-whine. “...you’re big.”
he huffs a quiet laugh against your collarbone, the sound rough and amused. “i know but you took it fine with your mouth before, this should be easier. just relax those hips for me.”
his thumbs rub slow circles over your hipbones, coaxing. you exhale shakily, try to loosen up, but when he starts pushing in harder.
your breath hitches and your nails dig into his shoulders.
“easy,” he murmurs. “why’re you fighting me?”
“hey i-im trying,” you repeat pouting. “but y-you’re stretching me so much.”
he pauses halfway in, lets you adjust. his hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, then back down to your ass. he squeezes gently, spreads you a little more.
“there you go,” he says. “good girl. feel that? you’re opening up for me already.”
you can feel every inch of him...too thick and hot, it burns in the best way, that full, almost-too-much pressure that makes your thighs shake. inside, he feels heavy like he’s pressing right up against every sensitive spot at once.
“fuck,” he mutters, forehead dropping to your shoulder for a second. “you feel—shit…so tight. like you’re trying to keep me out and pull me in at the same time.”
you both groan at the same time when he pushes all the way inside.
“you okay?” he asks, one hand to come up to brush damp hair off your forehead.
“yeah,” you whisper. “just really full. you feel huge like this.”
“good,” he says. “you want me to move?”
you nod fast, breath coming in short bursts. “yes please.”
“then tell me properly. use your words. what do you want, hm?”
you swallow feeling slightly embarrassed. he’s looking right at you, eyes half-lidded but sharp, waiting.
“i want you to fuck me,” you mumble.
he tilts his head, one eyebrow lifting. “that’s cute but i said properly baby.”
your thighs twitch around his hips. he’s still buried all the way inside, the fullness is driving you insane. you can feel every vein, every slight shift when he breathes.
“hiromi…” you whine, rocking your hips a little.
he tightens his grip, holding you still. “nuh-uh. no cheating. say it like you mean it. you’ve been hiding from me for two weeks—least you can do is ask nicely.”
you bite your lip, embarrassment and need twisting together until it hurts. “i want you to fuck me hard,” you say, louder this time, “pleasee…i-i need it.”
he smirks again, feeling satisfied. the corner of his mouth tilting up just enough to show he likes hearing you beg.
“there we go,” he says quietly, “that wasn’t hard, was it?” his hands slide to your ass, fingers digging in as he lifts you a couple inches, then drops you back down hard onto his cock. the sudden thrust makes you yelp.
“o-oh hiromi-"
he doesn’t let you catch your breath. starts fucking up into you. each thrust is deep enough to make your whole body jolt while the couch groans under you both, springs protesting every time he bottoms out.
“does this turn you on?” he asks, “fucking your professor on your shitty little couch? hm?”
you moan louder than you mean to, head tipping back,
“thought so.” he thrusts harder, one hand sliding up to grip the back of your neck, keeping your face close to his. “been skipping my class, sending me perfect little assignments like nothing’s wrong, but every time you typed my name you were probably dripping thinking about this. about me splitting you open just like this.”
you can only moan in return too gone to comprehend what he’s saying. he curses under his breath when he feels you clench, pace turning rougher. the wet slap of skin on skin is loud in the quiet apartment, mixing with your gasps and his heavy breathing.
“look at you,” he mutters, eyes locked on where you’re taking him. “taking it so well. my good little student, finally getting what she’s been aching for.”
he shifts his angle slightly, tilting his hips so every thrust drags right against that spot inside you. your eyes flutter shut, mouth falling open on a broken moan.
his face is flushed, hair falling into his eyes, jaw tight with restraint. but he’s watching you like he’s memorizing every twitch. like this won’t happen again.
“tell me,” he says, voice dropping lower. “tell me whose cock is making you feel this good right now.”
“yours,” you gasp. “ah hiromi’s! only yours—”
he rewards you with a particularly deep grind, rolling his hips so the base presses hard against your clit. “that’s right,” he murmurs. “and you’re gonna come on it again. gonna soak my lap like the needy little slut you are for me.”
his hand slips between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, firm circles that match the brutal rhythm of his hips. your stomach tightens, thighs trembling uncontrollably.
“puh...please i’m close.”
“i know,” he says, voice strained now. “can feel you fluttering around me. go on come. make a mess…it’s yours anyway.”
it hits fast and hard. your whole body locks up, back arching, cry ripping out of your throat as you come apart.
“fuck—good girl—fuck—”
he keeps fucking you through it, drawing it out until you’re shaking, until his thrusts turn sloppy.
“where do you want it?”
“inside,” you gasp immediately. “please inside.”
that’s all it takes. he grinds deep as he comes, filling you up. he groans long and low against your neck, arms wrapping tight around your waist, holding you down on him while he rides it out.
for a long minute neither of you moves. all heavy breathing, sticky skin, the faint patter of rain still outside. you can feel him softening slowly.
he kisses your shoulder, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth.
“you good?” he asks quietly.
you nod against his chest, still catching your breath. “yeah. really good.”
he huffs a small laugh, hand stroking slow down your back. “what do you wanna do?”
you’re still straddling him. the living room smells like rain and sex. your forehead is pressed to his shoulder.
“stay,” you mumble into his neck. “stay like this a little longer.”
his fingers keep tracing lazy lines up and down your spine, from the nape of your neck all the way to the small of your back, then back up again. it’s soothing in a way that makes your eyelids heavy.
his gaze drifts past your shoulder, landing on the open laptop still glowing faintly on the coffee table. the screen’s dimmed but not off since his class portal is still pulled up from earlier.
“this where you took one of the photos?” he asks casually.
your stomach drops and flips at the same time. heat rushes back to your face so fast it makes you dizzy.
“what?” you whisper, even though you know exactly what he means.
he nods toward the couch. “right here on this cushion. ass up, looking back over your shoulder. the third one you sent. background looked familiar, same string lights in the corner, same throw blanket bunched up like that.” his hand pats the cushion beside you. “thought it might’ve been the bedroom at first but no kitchen light’s wrong for that angle. had to be here.”
you bury your face deeper into his neck, mortified. “hiromi…”
“what?” he sounds genuinely amused now, the low rumble vibrating through his chest. “you’re the one who attached it to an entrapment analysis. i had to look closely.”
you groan, half-laugh half-embarrassed whimper. “i didn’t mean for you to—i mean, i didn’t plan—”
“sure,” he cuts in gently, fingers sliding into your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp. “but you didn’t delete it either.”
you lift your head just enough to peek at him.
“you kept them?” you ask quietly.
he doesn’t hesitate. “yeah, all three. printed them out, remember? filed them under ‘supplemental materials.’” he pauses, thumb brushing your cheek. “don't get me wrong, it's not for grading, it's more for...reference...?"
“reference for what?”
“for nights when i’m grading papers at 2 a.m. and wondering why a certain student keeps disappearing from my lecture hall.” he continues, “or for when i need to remember exactly how you looked when you were trying to tempt me into breaking every rule in the faculty handbook.”
“and… did it work?”
he looks at you for a long second, then leans in and kisses you, a simple one. when he pulls back his forehead rests against yours.
“obviously,” he mutters. “look where we are.”
“shower soon,” he says again. “then bed. and tomorrow—”
“i’ll be in class,” you finish for him.
“get a better seat,” he adds. “where i can see you properly.”
▶︎︎︎︎ Fire In My Heart (starring . higuruma & nanami)
synopsis . What happens when the man you fell for during a vacation trip abroad turns out to be your arranged fiancé’s best friend? A mess of tugged heart strings, horribly convoluted emotions, and a whole lotta’ fornication—of which none of you knew how to manage.
content . afab!reader, plot with porn, arranged marriage (nanami), one night stands (higuruma), lots of yearning, slight angst, heavy tension, nanami x higuruma, forced proximity, sloooow burn(s), fluff, 70’s/80’s song references & use, filthhh, oral sex, awkwardness, exhibitionism, strangers to lovers, eventual threesome, possessiveness, size kink, improper use of ties (bondage), dirty talk, panty sniffing & stealing, love triangle ending in a polycule, higu is a freak, prone bone, edging, pet names, virginity loss (nanami), second hand embarrassment, marathon sex, shiu cameo, praise, degrading, men kissing, dumbification, a trip to Paris (heh), drunk confessions, finger sucking, dramatics, etc.
word count . 19.8k (holy balls) || author’s note: hi, this is a milestone special lol. apologies for errors, if any. banner art from “Ikyouto Kouryuukai”
You always had a thing for people overworked and underfucked in several positions.
It was evident in the way you constantly attracted that genre of person—starting with your closest friend Shoko Ieiri, whom you dragged out of the country to vacation with—and ultimately ending with a man occupying a barstool across the way from you.
With a half empty glass of liquor swishing through a rotating cup—held only by the edge of his deft fingertips—wide-set, weary brown eyes cast your way suddenly enough to make you flinch.
Then came a mirroring drink sliding towards you from the much softer-eyed bartender.
“I didn’t order this,” You hummed easily, letting your eyes run from the dark-haired man of interest.
The bartender nodded his head back into the same direction your gaze just left, and you knew then that you’d gotten exactly what you wanted.
His attention.
Where does this take you? Right back to a game of eye-tag so doused in tension that it feels like a physical strike to your nerves.
Unknowing of how he'd recently fallen victim to your budding attractions, your mystery man sat particularly independent and detached from the room surrounding him. The only thing that seemed to pluck him out of his perpetual state of aloofness was the persistent way in which a gaze landed on him.
The gaze in question being yours, of course.
You simply couldn't help yourself, especially after he’d gone out of his way to buy you a drink.
Though, despite him being the picture perfect image of your type, you weren’t about to let this kindling flame crackle and then die out too quickly. No, you much preferred when mutual interest like this played out nice ‘n slow.
Which is exactly why you let your eyes glide down to the silently offered drink, lift a manicured nail to the glass’s rim, and then create a mild bit of distance by pushing it away.
The glass coolly slides across the bar far enough to be received as you declining the beverage, and your mystery man of interest catches it immediately. You look up again just to make sure he was watching you and you’re left with a little jump in your heart as his tired eyes mull elsewhere.
Fear threatened to take over at the momentary loss of his attention, but your worry was quickly soothed as he looked at you again. Lifting that half-drunken glass of his, he lightly tips it your way with an understanding nod of his head, obliging to your rejection.
Now, most would assume that this is where things end between you both. He offered you a drink and you politely declined it, how can tension possibly still exist there?
Simple—if you’re someone that’s of true interest to him, he won’t exactly stop there.
Which is precisely why it's of no surprise when he moves to stand up.
You'd been sipping on something you'd ordered roughly thirty minutes ago before Shoko left you to network the dance floor, trying your best not to make it obvious that every smidge of your attention was trained onto a man whose name you hadn't even gotten yet. But with the way he carries himself, it was almost impossible to do so.
The moment he stood up seemed to make your centered attention worse off. He was noticeably over six feet, a trait of which you recognize from across the room as you let yourself watch how he absentmindedly lifts a hand to make an unnecessary adjustment to his tie.
The way he walked around the bar had people turning heads and bartenders exchanging glances as if to imply he hadn't moved from his previous spot for a while up until now.
An exit is located not too far off behind you, so part of you figured your singular rejection is exactly the thing that'd drive him into retiring for the night. Was this your intent or goal? No, not at all.
But you liked the thrill of clinging on to the wildly false sense of hope that dwindled about inside you. The same sense of hope that sparked your intuition and made it less of a surprise to see your mystery man round the bar and relocate himself a mere two barstools away from you.
You watched through your peripherals how he fit himself into his seat—the length of his legs angling beneath the bar, and his charcoal-colored suit sleeking darker under the new angle of the establishment's dim lighting.
With him being closer to you, it was hard not to turn your head to get a better look at him and all that he had to offer you visually. Then again everything involving this man and your will to do things threads on a very, very thin line—as you'll come to find out.
Five minutes—not that you're counting or anything—roll by before anything noteworthy occurs.
Unfortunately, it's of your own actions that bring interest back into the slowly rolling interaction-, er, lack thereof...
You look back into the moderately distant clumps of people in search of Shoko, wondering just what has kept her so occupied this long. Eventually you spot her talking to a rather timid man with glasses, his gaze hardly meeting hers due to the intimidation she exuded via maintaining completely undivided attention on him.
The sight makes you smile as you set your drink down and you take this as the perfect opportunity to steal a quick glance at your fairly quiet mystery man. He'd bought you a drink, you declined it, then he came over, and since then... things have been placid. Unwelcomely so.
Has it been your turn to make another silent move all this time? Or were you both waiting for something to just happen out of the blue?
When you move your eyes to him, you feel your heart lurch in your chest.
The man is already looking at you—or, more specifically—at your legs. His eyes traveled slowly along your thighs based on how much you had revealed, making an intentionally steady descent to your calves and around the curve of them, before eventually falling onto your heels. At that final stop, his brows twitch.
He doesn't make a face or anything like that, rendering you unable to figure out what was going through his head, but he does blink ever so slowly before making eye contact with you.
...Almost as if he knew you were watching him check you out.
You start to open your mouth to say something of the quirky variety but he beats you to it.
"You declined my drink," Rumbles off the expanse of his tongue like he'd been holding the words there for longer than he meant to. The throaty base in his voice has you inattentively crossing one leg over the other.
Which, he notices, of course.
There was music playing softly throughout the room but from the moment he opened that dangerously calm mouth of his, every other sound seemed irrelevant to your ears.
Now that a conversation had finally presented itself, you had an excuse to take in every feature he had. His eyes are naturally wide in a way that should feel hollow or empty, yet does the exact opposite somehow. There's a richness lounging around in his irises, the outskirts of them indicating nights and nights lacking sleep, and the dull way in which he drags his gaze everywhere telling you that being tired is a trait he may have been born with.
All of which have you so utterly intrigued.
"I did," finally exits you, and for a split second his face dares to show emotion. An unspoken battle of attentiveness waged between you both, evident his mild reaction to hearing you for the first time. Someone could walk by and see or feel the tension already blooming between the two of you.
The man patiently waits for you to grant him with more of a response than that, eyeing how you move your hand towards the drink he purchased for you.
Your nail lightly taps against the rim and your shoulders rise to shrug, "Buying a woman a drink from across the room without even saying hello feels a bit lazy to me, sorry."
He doesn't smile at that but the corners of his mouth involuntarily move. A faint scoff leaves his nose, "I see." He murmurs, making it clear he wasn't exactly a man of many words. "Is that your type, then? A man who approaches you directly?"
Things had only just begun and the dynamic had you reeling in your seat already. Turning to face him a little more, "Depends," Your head tilts and you send him a grin, "Is that you?"
"Could be.” He offers suavely, “I've approached you, haven't I?"
You hum, tapping at that idle glass of rejection again before returning to your own cup, "Only after I've declined your drink."
He appears unimpressed by your response, eyes leaving your face and moving to your hand, "You didn't answer my question."
"I thought it rhetorical." You bite back.
His lips twitch again, "It wasn't."
Something about the blunt end of his statement has you unable to lessen your attraction for him. You liked how he was carrying himself through this conversation so far.
Sighing, "...Obviously, you've approached me."
He notes the sass in your tone but doesn’t address it in the slightest. Instead meeting you with some of his own, "Then that makes me your type, no?"
Before you can answer that, he slowly leans over with his arm extending out. You thought he was about to offer his hand to shake but it amply moves past you and plucks up the same drink you denied moments earlier. Bringing it to his lips, you’re left to watch him turn his head to the side as he sips.
And that—whether it be intentional or not—has your mind set on how you want this night to go. This stranger had already been your type in terms of perpetually presented exhaustion, a drawling voice, and calculated way of speaking but his most redeemable quality was undoubtedly his nose.
Oh fuck, it was beautiful. The gorgeously arching curve had your eyes stuck in place. You didn’t want to stare at it but shit, you didn’t realize how big it was up until now.
In the casual manner he goes about drinking, you wonder if he even realizes the sex symbolistic quality shaping his face.
Your lashes bat and your words nearly come drooling out of you, "I don't even know your name."
God, you hope it wasn’t obvious that he’d you exactly where he wanted you already.
"I don't recall you asking for it." He hums gravely.
It’s like he’d written out a response for everything hours before even approaching you! Or, perhaps he’d exchanged this set of dialogue before. Maybe you weren’t leaving the stand-outish impression you’d hoped to.
Instead of playing into his game, you take matters back into your hands, "Is that your type, then?” You mock with the slightest smirk on your face, “ A woman who shows interest immediately after you've approached her?"
"No,” Fuck. Of course he had a response prepared for this as well, “I prefer a woman who can't keep her eyes off of me, and then plays coy once confronted about it."
You scoff, "I'm not playing coy."
"It's cute how you didn't deny the first part.” He finally grins, albeit small. Then he makes eye contact with you again and lifts his brows, “Was that intentional?"
"Very." You claim.
...Just who exactly was playing into who's hand now?
There’s a small beat of suspense that splays out between you, but he eventually breaks it before you do.
"Higuruma Hiromi." He finally tells you, splitting his keen attention to return to his drinking.
You offer your name politely in return and then add, "I like how I didn't have to ask for it."
The exchange of names has him loosened up more than the alcohol. You see it in how he becomes a bit more telling in his expressions and body language.
Higuruma shrugs, "You should never have to."
"Almost seemed like you wanted me to," You fire right back.
He can’t help but smile for the first time, thinking he was quick with his words but noticing you’re becoming quicker. "No? I'm your type, remember?” He teases, turning his head to scan the bar, “I know how you like a direct approach."
You wanted to hate how smooth he was but unfortunately it was only worsening the existing attraction you felt for him. He was supposed to approach you and say something corny like most men do—y’know, struggle to finalize your interest and completely squash whatever fantasized version of them you had in your head.
Yet, Higuruma was the exact opposite. He exceeded your prospects and then fucked a throbbing new reality right into your fantasies.
That can’t be fair, can it?
"Alright,” You finally breathe out, feeling sick of how things are only getting worse for you. “So did you buy me a drink for the banter or are you interested in something more?" You ask.
Higuruma leans forward toward the bar and moves to rest his cheek against his knuckles as he looks at you, "Are you denying me the option of both already?"
"You didn't answer my question." You mock again.
Something on him twitches but it’s not his mouth this time. He distracts you from it with a kinder expression, "I'm interested in both."
Your brows raise, "So you expected the banter then."
"Not at all," Higuruma chuckles faintly. "My expectations were nonexistent, considering I prefer to be surprised."
You lean toward him a little, your dress shifting against your body and tempting him to dip his gaze elsewhere. Then you’ve the nerve to bat your lashes at him, "And how did I do? Are you surprised by my wit?" You joke.
Luckily it lands with another smile coming your way, "I'm surprised by you, period. Mainly because this is my first time seeing you here."
"I'm on a vacation trip with my friend," You hum, glancing and pointing back at Shoko.
Higuruma’s eyes follow before he nods at your spotted friend, "Ah, I see."
“And I'm assuming you come here often?" You ask, feeling happy to keep the casual conversation going.
He looks at you again, "More than I care to admit, yes."
"Mh." You squint skeptically at that, "Demanding job?"
If his answer turns out to be yes then it would all make sense. He looks tired, he’s still fully dressed in a suit, and he’s on his third drink of the night.
"Yeah, I’m a lawyer.” Figures. “What gave it away?" Higuruma asks.
You gesture at his face playfully, "A little bit of everything."
He chuckles, "I get that a lot.” Then, he finally sets his glass back down and sits up a little straighter, intent on showing you that you have his undivided attention now.
As it stands, the two of you know so very little about one another. The only thing inherently obvious between you both is that you’re deathly attracted to each other.
A mutual comfort of sorts settles in between you and Higuruma, evident in how things felt moderately different now. The small talk had been nice and all, but it was overtly obvious that you both wanted much more than to pass time with words that’d surely be forgotten come the next morning.
Which is exactly why you run your eyes over the man one last appreciative time and let your head tip to the side as you say, "It's my last night here."
The sound of that has his brows perking up in interest, "You wanna make it worth something?"
"How so?" You shoot back.
Higuruma quips lightly, "Answer my question without another question and you'll find out."
You smile and finally concede, "Yeah, I wanna make it worth something…”
——
Which is roughly how you end up in the backseat of his car—his personal driver ahead pretending not to hear the heavy pants and breathy moans leaving the two of you.
You hardly remember how you got from one place to another. One second the two of you were drunkenly locking lips at the bar, and the next you were unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing on top of him after growing too needy to wait for the ride to be over.
The two of you were on your way to—what you assume to be—his place and while your concern for leaving out with a complete stranger should’ve been present, it wasn’t. Instead, the only thing concerning you was the way your dress slid up your thighs and over the curve of your ass via needy shoves from Higuruma’s big hands.
His grasp had been careful when it first met you in the bar—initially treating you all delicate-like as he cupped your jaw and pulled you in slowly for that first kiss. Then it’d traveled to the back of your neck, tugged you in to deepen the kiss, and ultimately ended up where it is now: tracing the skin of your thighs and bundling the fabric of your dress up, up, up! until your lacy panties were revealed.
One quick peek from his poor driver ahead and he’d surely be flashed by the sight of your underwear. Not that you were sober enough to care.
Higuruma’s fingertip dug into your thighs with a certain fixation for them, hauling your body impossibly closer to his own and prompting a proper grind against his clothed cock so you could feel exactly what you’d done to him thus far. It was enough to have you gasping into his mouth, your sounds swallowed up by his desperate kisses and the searing swats of his tongue that accompanied them.
Your arms were slung around his neck loosely and you couldn’t help how your hips bucked against him—the fabric of your panties clinging to your wet cunt as you ground a particularly soaked spot into his dark slacks.
"You want me now?" Higuruma scoffs into your mouth as if to scold you. Smirking before you can even answer and tonguing his next words into you, "Are you like this often? Throwing yourself on top of strangers and begging for them to touch you? Hm?"
When he pulls away, you’re given but one second to gasp as his head dips down and his nose brushes against your jawline—the sound of him inhaling your very scent giving you a short chill down your spine.
You manage a cheeky smile as you thread a hand into his hair and ruffle the strands in between your fingers, "If I say no, would you even believe me?"
His lips plaster the right side of your neck in hot kisses before he whispers, "Depends on how convincing you make it sound."
You push him back softly and his body rocks along with the movement, hands growing tighter at your hips. There’s a prominent twitch from his cock just under you at your sudden assertiveness, and the way you two meet eyes is downright filthy. Whatever visual chase you’d done earlier couldn’t possibly compare to the way you both just eye-fucked one another.
Breaking the moment, you lean to his ear, "No, Higu, I don't throw myself at people like this.” Your hands shift down and you start plucking a few of his clothes off—starting with his tie and trying to make your way down to his belt, “But, it's like I said earlier, tonight's my last night here and I wanna make it count. Sue me."
He chuckles at that, "Careful, sweetheart.”
You’ve no idea if he was warning you about your words or the fact that your touch is trekking dangerously close to his erection.
Your wonder is satisfied a mere second later as he adds, “I just might."
With a roll of your eyes, "Gross, does dirty talk with all lawyers sound like that?" You groan, finally pulling his belt free from the loops and tossing it to the side.
The sound of it clattering against the vacant seat has the driver up ahead—who's name you caught as Shiu Kong—peering into the rear view mirror.
"It was a joke,” Higuruma responds to you lowly, a couple of his fingers slipping under the lace of your panties at your hip.
You scoff playfully, “A corny one.”
“You smiled.” He bites back.
Shaking your head this time, your gaze slips down to watch yourself unbutton his pants as you snort, “Jokes are meant to be laughed at.”
You barely get to unzip him before he says, “And you’re meant to be moaning by now.”
Just like that, your attention is stripped from the task at hand (literally), and you’re meeting eyes with him all over again. It was clear he didn’t want to waste what little time he had with you.
Thus leading you to match his energy as you always do, arching a brow and leaning in a little closer, “So make it happen.”
“Needy girl.”
——
Between the luxury car and penthouse you soon end up in, you hardly remember a pure thought ringing throughout your head. The entire ride had been filled with dry humping hot enough to have the two of you drooling into one another’s mouth, and it was like you’d blinked before you were being tossed onto some bed.
Items of Higuruma’s suit and your dress decorated the hallway leading up to his room, and the few remaining pieces of fabric between your bare skin and his was currently being glared at by a patently prurient pair of eyes.
During the ride here, Higuruma had muttered something filthy into your ear about how he loooves making women like you feel good. Obviously you were too wrapped up in your own aroused brain to realize this was a warning of sorts.
The thing is, Higuruma was not your average eater. He didn't treat oral sex like foreplay or a thing to be done out of convenience, but he catered to the act as if it were an art to be studied and thoroughly executed.
You, (un)fortunately learn this the hard way.
After being not-so-patiently tossed onto a plush set of sheets, large, grabby hands met the underside of your thighs and were quick to sprawl your legs apart. Then Higuruma was settling himself in between them, uncaring of how hard he was and wanting-, no, needing only one thing from you at present.
You severely underestimated how infatuated a man could be with eating you out until you met Higuruma.
The gentleman was so utterly craving that he didn't even bother pushing your panties to the side. His lips met the fabric with ease, and you were left to watch him with slightly furrowed brows as he tongued through them to gather the first taste of you onto his rather famished tongue.
The first noise you let out was nothing short of embarrassing given that you flinched like a woman who hadn't been touched in months. Higuruma comforts you with a sound of his own though—a throaty groan vibrating directly in between your puffy folds in response to the teasing taste of you greeting the center of his oral muscle.
A long stripe of salivating sin swipes up all crookedly against your panty-clad cunt as he takes his sweet time figuring out how he wants to go about devouring you tonight.
When a proper dribble of your aroused slick enters his throat with one slippery descent, Higuruma's lashes begin to flutter as if heaven itself just met his taste buds in liquified fashion. Then he moans against you, a sneaky whine laced somewhere in between the desperate sound.
His hands grip the skin of your thighs and he pushes your legs out impossibly wider—like you hadn't been spread enough already! The little gasp you let out in reaction to being stretched so widely goes through one ear and out the other with the way Higuruma lets the entirety of his mouth cup your pussy before giving it a firm suck.
You thought having your panties on would be uncomfortable for you but you quickly found that it was the exact opposite with him. He'd suckled your taste hard enough to pull the fabric up into his mouth for a second, lifting his head a little and letting space grow between your now outstretched panties and your glistening cunt.
Then a cold brush of air would slip through said space and you'd shudder just to feel your underwear wetly slap! back down against you.
It was then that your hand shot down to his hair and your hips lightly rolled up for more. You felt the corner of his lips curl up to smirk as he continued with his oral motions.
At some point you get the feel that he's just taunting and your impatience gets the better of you, causing you to use your grip on his hair to push his face a little harder against your cunt.
Higuruma's hips buck against the bed hard enough to rock the entire frame at that as he lets something filthy exit his throat. Then you feel his smirk widening out into a smile before his eyes peek up at you. His tongue glides right and finally shifts under your panties for a moment, languidly licking at the lip he's met with there.
"Higuuu," You try crying out in an honest attempt for him to quit it with the teasing.
As if encouraged by the sound, his tongue simply begins to dip at the outskirts of your pussy. A thumb comes over smoothly to peel the rest of that lacy fabric out the way, and you hear him breath out something of awe at the raw sight of you.
Your poor cunt was sooo swollen from all the sucking and wet kisses he'd given you for the past however many minutes. If the sight didn't have his cock slobbering against his boxers then perhaps he'd feel bad.
With one more adjustment of his positioning, Higuruma moves his hands to your hips and then pulls you a little closer before he dives in nose first. The tip of it peppers a couple kisses around your clit just to feel the way your neglected nub twitches at the first bit of contact, and you feel a fat glob of spit meet your entrance.
The plump pad of his thumb pucks at your weepy hole a couple times before you hear him whisper, "Such a pretty lil' thing, fuuck."
Then he angles his face and you watch the whorish display of him lathering the bumpy ridge of his nose with all your profoundly drooling slick, his mouth returning to taste you directly for the first time.
Once he gets a full taste of you, he doesn't stop until he's satisfied—your gorgeous string of whines 'n moans drowned out into the air and battling for volume against the sloshy shlicks! coming from your cunt as Higuruma does what he'd been dying to do from the moment he first met eyes with you that night.
The feel of you against is tongue is something he just can't get enough of, his mouth is moving haphazardly along your slit to work your drenched folds further apart.
Then comes his thiiiick fingers, which work your insides out steadily in scissors-like motions. You feel him prodding against spots you weren't even aware you had, promoting the prettiest arch in your back as your body uncontrollably squirms against the bed to escape him.
Your breath had run from you many moments ago and you struggled to capture it back into your lungs, much too wrapped up in the pleasure thrumming all throughout your body.
Higuruma's a feral eater but he's neat with it, making sure none of your delectable slick escapes the jail of his mouth, and thoroughly pursuing any slips that dare to trickle elsewhere.
It's not until after your fourth or fifth orgasm—coaxed via his tongue alone—that you feel your legs turning to mush, jittery shakes noticeable as you use that grip on his hair to tug and then push at him all confusedly. You were at a point where you didn't even know what you wanted anymore. On one hand, his mouth was absolutely perfect against you, but on the other hand, you couldn't quite take it anymore.
Your whines were of pleas to convince him to give you a break yet your hips insouciantly bucked up at his face. And fuck if all of it didn't drive Higuruma mad.
Nothing could top watching you lose yourself in the pleasure he was able to give you.
Well, except for you giving him a rather rude shove just as his tongue flicks over your overstimulated clit. The exhale you release is one of near exhaustion but he only takes that as encouragement.
Grabbing at your wrist and lifting his head away from your cunt for the first time in a while, his eyes meet yours with a perfectly ticked-off glare, “As much as I love your hands on me, gorgeous, you’re interrupting my meal.” His tone is low and raspy in a way that shows his vocal cords have been well saturated with your taste.
The moment of grace you're given directly after only comes because Higuruma is busy snatching the loose tie that's been hanging around his neck off, and then lifting over you and taking the both of your hands into his grasp. Crossing your wrists with one another, your lashes are cutely flopping whilst you peer up at him with pleasureful tears coating your waterline.
A few minutes later and you find your wrists tied up over your head 'n anchored to the bed.
Your voice comes out all shaky, "H-Haven’t you had enough?”
His eyes lazy flick up to you and for the first time, he crack a crooked, but genuine smile. Cocking his head to the left, "No one’s ever eaten you out properly, huh?” He asks as if he already knew it to be a fact.
Blinking, “…What gave you that impression?” You huff.
Higuruma scoffs and looks back down at the sopping spread of your pussy, admiring the way your slick oozes out of you in pretty glimmers. Before losing his train of thought, “The dumb question you just asked.” He soon shoots back to you.
Your brows furrow, “Hiro—“ Before the rest of his name can finish its departure from your tongue, he's diving back in and you're left moaning all over again, “F-Fuuck!”
The man was no longer eating you out as if starved, no. He was now feasting upon your sloppy folds with a prideful passion of greed guiding ever nasty swipe of his tongue.
It wasn't long before his fingers joined back into the fun, stuffing you nice 'n full to prepare you for the next way in which greed would express itself into you.
Through the entire time he spent satisfying his oral fixation for you, his poor, fat, neglected cock was left to sob out something creamy down below. His balls ached from the lack of stimulation but fuuuck if he wasn't gonna prioritize his cravings over what his body claimed it needed.
When he finally lets his head fly back—after watching you fall apart on his mouth for the nth time of the night—you see as he pants, as if he was the one who'd just been slut out on a mere finger and tongue combo.
Casually muttering, “I think she’s ready for me now," as he shifts back to sit on his heels and works the weight of his cock out from the damped fabric it's been confined in all this time.
Your head shakes slightly but your cunt is busy twitching with readiness—clearly matching his greed with some of her own. “I don’t think I can…" You tell him while he comes up to untie you. Never quite finishing your sentence, you end it off with a sheepish, "Hiromi...” to gain his attention on you.
As if it had ever left to begin with...
He arches a thick brow your way, “You don’t think you can, what?" Another cocky smile is bearing across his lips, "You talked such a big game earlier. Surely a little foreplay hasn’t worn you out already.”
Foreplay?? He just ate you out for two hours!!
At that, you roll your eyes and playfully scoff, “Oh, fuck you.”
He hums, “You’re about to,” and then slots a wet hand to your hip, tapping slightly with his instructions of, "Flip over.”
You do exactly that with utmost swiftness. No matter how many pouts you sent him or how bratty your words were, your body couldn't deny the incessant desire for him. That feeling has been buzzing through you all night and now was not the time to try 'n ignore it.
“Oh fuck,” Higuruma lightly smacks your ass as you roll over, helping you to get in position as he throws a leg over you and sandwiches your limbs together. Grinning at how ruined you are for him already, “S'this your type too? Having a stranger's big cock stretch you open jus' right after a long day? Hm?"
You're drooling from every hole already—reduced to nothing more than a wet, needy mess of a woman below the man you met only a few hours ago.
If he'd mentioned anything personal to you between the bar and now, you wouldn't be able to remember it by tomorrow. But the way he fucks? Oh, you'd be remembering that for weeks to come.
And how could you not? There's nothing more memorable than the swollen, plump rounds of his cockhead smearing in between your puffed pussylips—sweetly streeetching you open to take the rest of his length.
"Yesss, Higu'." Your voice is immediately moaned into a pillow as the soft material smushes against your face, back arching some. "This is my type t-too.. hahh, I love it."
You're obviously just babbling whatever you can in agreement with him, but he couldn't much care.
With a firm thrust of his hips, his cock slides in deep and you're biting down at the pillow already due to his raunchy tip slathering in a messy greeting. “God, you’re nasty.” He huffs out a breathless little chuckle, already losing his own mind from the warmth that's currently swallowing him, “I think I like that about you.”
“Mnngh-, y-you just like how good I feel.” You say back to him, feeling one hand hold your hip to lift it up a few centimeters as the other presses into the slope of your spine.
The arch he forces you into is just filthy and you're almost annoyed by how snuggly his cock fits because of it. Your salivating walls twitch and throb out to his shape, folds kissing his wide base with him just nesting in place for a moment.
He snorts, “No, I like this—how bratty you pretend to be.” Then his hand kindly flies up to the back of your head so he can shove your face down, and his hips are reeling back.
Shit.
Fingers slot through your hair just to grip at you nicely and his cock pivots left inside you, “All that talk just to get a good fucking as if a simple please wouldn’t have brought you the same results.”
“Hiro,” You moan breathlessly, fingers dug into the sheets for support and toes curling up as mindless pleasure washing over you in hefty waves.
“Ohhh, I know, I knowww, sweet girl.” He coos with a condescension that has you spilling glossy gushes around the thick of his shaft, each spill decorating his thumping veins. “Don’t cry like that, I’m just givin’ you what you wanted. You wanted me to fuck you like this, didn’t you?”
The weight of Higuruma comes over you next, smothering you into the mattress and having your entire body jump involuntarily. You don't know whether or not you cum or cry because of it, but either way your reaction is adding a certain wetness to the situation.
Then you're just nodding in an all too fucked-out manner, “M-Mhmmm.”
“Mhmmm, yeahhh, you did.” He mocks, hips rocking down into you tenderly so he can stir up your insides jus' right, “Now tell me it feels good—tell me it feels good to get what you wanted, c’monnn.”
Higuruma's words of encouragement are enough to make your mind go blank, “I-It feels s’good Hiro,” His thrust gets unintentionally sharper and you're still going, “Ngh! You feel s’good.”
“So do you,” His voice gets louder with base as the heat of his mouth slanders against the crown of your ear, “I’m tempted not to let you go.”
Him being addicted to you was the one thing both of you wanted to avoid, but the heat of the moment got the better of you and he feels how your pussy hugs him in reaction.
Licking at your skin, "You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He whispers.
“Uhuhhh.” You nod again.
“Use your words, hun. I can’t understand you when you mumble.” Fuck, you don't think you'll be lasting the number of rounds he had planned for you if he continues to speak like that. “C’mon, talk to me all pretty like you have been all night.”
“Yes, Hiromi.” You eventually mewl, “I-I’d love it if you-, ah! didn’t let me go.”
“Fuck, you’re so good for me.” He praises huskily, dick achingly hard within the sleek confines of your cunt, "Bet you want me to keep you around after this, just so you can get the cock you deserve whenever you want it, huh?"
Your body tries to inch away from the strong roll of his hips and how soppily his cockhead is lapping against your sweet spot, "Ohmygod," He easily follows your chaste movements by bucking into you. "M'gonna cum Hiromi."
His bottom lip pokes out to pout, "Aww, again? A little bit of talking really gets you there like this?" He asks as if he's not right there with you, his fat balls taut with the need to pump something sinful into you.
You're a complete mess and your mind is going all blank on you, "M-Mhm."
"M-Mhmmm," He mocks again, "My poor baby, when's the last time you were fucked properly?"
Cunt fluttering around him, "I-I don't-"
"Shhh, not you." A bulky arm comes wrapping around your frantically twitching frame and two fingers suddenly slide right into your gaping mouth. Voice still hot against your ear, his other arm snakes down so he can tap at your clit, "M'talking to my pretty girl down here."
And that is all it takes for you to choke on his fingers as you leave a splashing mess on him, eyes rolling back, back, back! until only the whites are showing.
Higuruma fucks you good. Talking right through your every orgasm as if he had no idea how to shut that filthy mouth of his, cooing and mocking you all through each mess.
You'd hadn't been fucked that good in so long, you're pretty sure you were the first one to tap out not too long after leaving a squirting slob of cum on him.
And Higuruma, ever the cunt-connoisseur, made sure to end the night by "lightly" licking you clean.
During that act is when you actually fall asleep and he's pretty sure you're the kinda woman he'll be thinking about for a while after this.
You may not have kept up with him fully—at least not to his standards of doing so—but he does appreciate how you allowed him the opportunity to slut you out exactly as he'd hoped to!
——
The morning after was nothing short of a blur.
You departed without giving Higuruma much of a goodbye, but you’re hoping the little note you left with your phone number attached to it will be enough. Part of you felt bad knowing that he’d be waking up to a half empty bed—considering that’s definitely not what he fell asleep in—but the other part of you felt as though Higuruma may appreciate the lack of you in his arms, per not wanting to get too attached.
And bearing in mind the way things play out for you going forward, you’re sure the latter of your preferences are closer to validation.
Shoko had a field day upon hearing you recount your details of the night as you two exchanged stories during the flight, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself right back home.
The first day back to reality was a painful reminder of why you’d left in the first place.
Walking into the lobby of your family’s company building for the first time in weeks was dreadful, to say the least. Employees greet you all politely as you pass, but their heads only dip in automatic acknowledgement of the chairman’s daughter—aka, you. It’s a fake routine you’ve grown both accustomed to and very tired of.
Nothing real ever comes from these small interactions and the majority of the people in this building view you as some sort of pawn in your parent’s game. Which, unfortunately, is exactly what you come to find out you are.
You made way towards the elevator and mashed the button for the thirtieth floor, shutting your eyes for a moment to collect yourself and get your thoughts back into that working mindset. Your phone buzzed against your palm with a message from your father’s assistant, urging you to make your way to his office a little faster.
A sigh escapes you and with each floor you pass, you feel the weight of impending doom press into your shoulders. You'd hardly been home for more than twenty-four hours and you already wished you were back on vacation.
When the elevator doors finally open to your designated floor, the hallway outside your father's office is quietly expecting you. His assistant shoots up from her desk immediately.
"Miss," She greets ever so politely, a tremor of nerves caught in her voice as she does so. "He asked that you come in right away."
You wave a hand her way and let an unimpressed smile carve itself into your face, "I got your text, thanks."
You watch as she hurries over to the door and knocks once before peaking in to announce your arrival to the room. After which, you step right inside and watch your father's assistant give you nervous eyes just before the door shuts behind you.
As the soft click serves as the only sound in the room, you turn your attention elsewhere and immediately realize something is off.
Your father's seated behind his desk with his hands neatly folded together, a composed expression you only see when he's conducting board meetings plastered across his face.
In your head, you wondered if that was any way to greet one's child after not seeing them for a few weeks, but you suppose your father has never really viewed you as such. You've always been less of a daughter to him and more of a strategic asset liable to be moved at any point in time, for the betterment of the company.
While harsh, you—and everyone else around you—knew it to be true.
Before you or your father could greet one another outside of distasteful looks, the sight of some blonde man sitting in front of his desk makes your brows twinge up some more. You thought it weird that you were called here in such a hurry just for someone else to be there as well.
Your father notices where your eyes have gone and just as you open your mouth to say something, he's cutting you off with a gesture towards the empty chair beside the blonde stranger, "Sit down."
Whatever this was, you hated it already.
Not that your feelings stop you from doing as you're told, considering it was much too early to start an argument. The moment you seat yourself, you turn your head to get a better look at the man next to you.
Safe to say, you've never seen him before.
He seems tall, he's got these broad shoulders that are concealed only by the tailoring of his tan suit, and his facial features are sharper than ever. A fawning pair of brown eyes glance your way and gently meet yours, matching the concern and confusion etched into you.
It was clear that you weren't the only one curious about this sudden meeting.
"I've called you in here because there's an important matter we need to discuss regarding the future of the company," Your father says, snatching both the blonde man's attention and your own all in one go.
His statement is enough to have you feeling nervous but you do your best to steel your emotions until the real bullshit comes flying out of his mouth like you know it will soon.
Continuing on in that tiresome drawl, he looks directly at you, "As you know, our company has been in negotiations for several months with another firm concerning a potential merger."
You can't do much except nod your head slowly, "Right.."
Your father gestures to the man beside you, "This is Nanami Kento."
On queue, Nanami looks your way again and then moves his hand out for you to shake, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Unfortunately for him and the respectfully offered handshake, you decline it rather rudely. Looking down at his open hand and then turning back to your father with a cocked brow. "And?" You ask, ready to get to the point of this meeting.
Nanami's hand remains outstretched for an awkward moment before he retracts it, pursing his lips together at the feel of embarrassment washing over him. Had he made such a bad impression on you already?
"The Nanami Group has agreed to the merger," Your father finally gets out, leading to your brows lifting in surprise.
Well, now you felt bad for declining the handshake...
"Oh." Glancing at Nanami again, you have a softer expression on your face as you go to apologize. "That's wonderful, I'm—"
You're cut off by the slow addition of, "On one condition." soothing into the air.
Your head whips back into your father's direction and whatever expression of excitement you had, drops with utmost quickness. "What condition?" You ask with a pointed look.
His eyes shoot down to his desk as if to avoid yours. "You're to marry him," He responds shortly, gesturing to Nanami as he speaks.
Aaaand there it was! The bandaid had finally been ripped off.
For a moment, you swear you heard the old man wrong. Surely he didn't just say you have to marry the man you just met less than five minutes ago?
"...Pardon?" You breathe out.
Your father maintains that eerie calmness of his, "The union between our families will solidify the partnership between our companies."
Some of his words mull through one ear and out the other because you're too busy trying to figure out whether or not this was really happening to you.
The man who raised you was actively informing you that he'd basically sold you off for the amelioration of the family company.
You only manage to tune back into what he’s saying when he finds the gall to hum, "The merger between our families will then be finalized after the marriage produces an heir."
Across the desk, Nanami shifts slightly in his chair as he chokes—a clear sign that the conversation had become uncomfortable for someone other than just you.
Meanwhile, you manage yet another scoff, "You're joking."
"Not at all," Your father chirps, "The boards of both companies felt it would ensure a lasting partnership between our two families."
"Oh okay, so not only am I being married off," You begin slowly, "But I'm also expected to start producing corporate successors? I'm to be married and bred, all in one go."
You watch the way he rolls his eyes and gestures a hand out to wave, diminishing both your words and your feelings, "You make it sound so harsh. This agreement merely ensures stability between both families.” He claims before adding, “A-And you've already agreed to it.”
The stammer in his voice told you more than enough. You knew right then that whatever agreement he was referring to was probably born out of some form of manipulation or miscommunication.
Blinking, "I beg your finest pardon?"
A document is slid your way just as your question finishes off.
"Years ago,” Your father nods, “During the board's succession program. You remember.”
No the fuck you don’t.
Well, you do. But you definitely don’t recall signing your consent to this arrangement.
You know what he’s talking about took place when you’d first joined the family business but, at the time, he’d told you that the documents you were signing was "standard procedure for future executives in family companies"
Now you're seeing that this wasn't the case at all.
Silly you for thinking it was all just meaningless paperwork.
As you snatch up the document, you notice your signature sitting clear as day across the bottom. Shaking your head, "Nowhere on this does it say that I'm supposed to be—"
"Clause seventeen." Your father directs.
Your eyes narrow as they flock there immediately.
In the event that the chairman determines a strategic marital alliance beneficial to the company, the undersigned consents to participate in such union for the purpose of securing corporate stability and lineage...
Your gaze stops for a moment, jaw agape and heart clenching up in your chest. Especially as you continue reading to see that it only gets worse.
...The parties involved acknowledge the expectation of producing a direct heir to reinforce the partnership between two family entities.
"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." You scoff.
"Language." Your bastard of a father has the nerve to scold, leaning back in his chair with a casual creak. Shrugging, "You signed it willingly."
That sentence alone is enough to start an argument between the two of you that stretches on for at least thirty minutes. All of which Nanami sits there listening rather uncomfortably due to feeling like he’s overhearing things he really shouldn’t be.
You bring up past family issues and the current relationship between your mother and father—scolding the old man for doing the same thing to you as was done to him years ago. Arranged marriages shouldn’t be some type of tradition in your family but with the way things are looking now, that seems to be what was becoming of it.
Despite his discomfort, Nanami sits there in awe of you. When his parents informed him that he’d be marrying a woman he’d never met, he didn’t even think to argue with them the way you are with your father now.
And he hadn’t even seen you yet!
Part of him supposes that’s because he was raised differently than you—having been told from a young age that his role in his family matters little to nothing if the future of their company isn’t his top priority. Whatever childhood dreams he had were crushed a long time ago and replaced with only the thought of doing what’s best for the company, even if that now meant marrying a woman he knew nothing about.
But seeing you now…
Nanami knew then that knowing nothing about you wouldn't matter much longer. The mix of passion and honest frustration you so openly expressed towards your father directly in front of him was nothing short of endearing to the blonde witness.
And by the time you flung that signed document back into your father’s face and went storming out the room, Nanami was certain he’d fall for you even if you swore never to look his way.
Which is why he shoots up to his feet just as the door slams behind you, ignoring the way your father murmurs something to him about not bothering to chase after you, and giving the man a curt nod before doing exactly that.
As Nanami opens the door, he spots you making way for the elevator and does his best to keep up with you without looking like he intended to follow you (even though he did).
Like a lost puppy of sorts, he trails behind you and enters the elevator alone with you just before the doors begin to shut.
His eyes fall to the way you’re mashing at the button to another floor—trying not to chuckle at the way you accidentally press seven other buttons to various floors in the process. His posture stiffens up as you side eye him sharp enough for him to feel it, and he worries that following you in here may not have been in his best interest.
…Even though he wanted to speak to you after witnessing everything.
Lifting a fist to his lips, Nanami clears his throat. The elevator begins its slow, creaky descent and he keeps his gaze fixated straight ahead as he breaks the silence, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t pity me,” You breathe out without thinking, immediately regretting the harshness of your voice.
His shoulders tense up at how immediate your response was, heart skipping a beat now that your aggravations were being directed towards him. Even his face was getting warm like you’d complimented him or something.
A quiet moment passes before you slowly release a sigh, “While it’s appreciated, I’m afraid your sorry is worth nothing to me.”
Nanami nods, “Understood.” His single word of comprehension soothes your nerves over juuuust a tad. Then, he glances over to you—appreciating the side of your face, “I hope you know I had as much control in this as you did.”
You didn’t have any control in this—obviously—so his words provided a light sense of comfort to you. Meeting his gaze, you lift a brow at him, “Your parents see you as a means for breeding just as mine do, I’m assuming?”
His mouth opens but you watch the way they twitch as your bluntness throws him off. Clearing his throat again, his eyes darted off, “That’s uh… That’s one way to put it.”
“Well,” You huff, turning to face forward, “At least I’m not alone in that regard.”
Nanami doesn’t say it, but he hopes to find more regards to comfort you in as time passes. While the marriage itself isn’t what he wanted in the slightest, he can’t find it in himself to complain after his eyes have taken you in.
He’s never believed in love at first sight and he knew for sure this wasn’t that but… there was something about you that had him thinking all of this would be worth it in the end, somehow.
——
The next few days, weeks, and soon months of preparation feel like you’ve entered an unimaginable level of Hell.
You were trying your best not to be a drama queen, but you can’t exactly help yourself when the announcement of your engagement was merely the tip of the iceberg.
Due to your outburst in your father’s office that day, he thought it best to have you and Nanami constrained into the same home for some time before you two were to be wed.
The apartment you resided in beforehand had been purchased and provided under the family company, but now that you were forcefully engaged and clearly not fond of it—it was in both company’s best interest to have you and Nanami grow used to each other in one way or another. So, in other words, shoving the two of you into some house together with curfews and security placed all around simply made sense.
Living with Nanami wasn’t the worst thing in the world since he’s nothing short of a gentleman, but you still hated every waking hour of it.
Your father may have been able to drive you into a relationship and a home with some stranger but he couldn’t force you to interact with the man so, you didn’t!
There was one bedroom designated for the two of you but Nanami insisted that you sleep there and he take the guest bedroom down the hall so that you’d be somewhat comfortable. You appreciated that much from him but it didn’t stop you from avoiding him at all costs.
Even if he was the first face you were greeted with every morning, even if you two had silent dinners together, even if you were forced to head to work together, and even if you quite literally could not escape the damn man—you refused to open up to him.
He could put a ring on your finger and a baby inside you directly after, and yet you remained firm with your decision to never pretend to be happy in your impending marriage.
Nanami of course is fine with whatever you decide to do. He would accept your comfort over fake happiness any day.
So if he had to stomach scolding from both his parents and yours about how the two of you are the most awkward couple ever to be seen—he’d do it a thousand times over knowing that you’re content with the way things are.
The concept of distant lovers proved itself in the most outward way through you and Nanami. While labeling the two of you as “lovers” without the addition of its artificial origins is quite the stretch, neither of you could pretend that nothing existed between you.
Especially on Nanami’s end.
He understood that your distaste toward him came from the lack of control you had in your being together, but no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t bring himself to care at the same level you did. Not when he was so utterly enamoured by all that you are.
You distracted him from the realities of this compulsory relationship. He knew he was attracted to you from the day you walked in that office, hardly spared him a glance, and proceeded to curse your father out right in front of him.
Then there was how snappy you’d been after, how tense you looked every time you and him occupied the same room, and how distant you keep yourself nowadays.
Nanami knows he should be on the same page as you—protesting against this union through refusing to get close to you and keeping things strictly cordial.
But… he can’t.
There’s a stubborn thump of longing in his heart that’s highlighted for him every time you enter a room, his eyes find you in every crowd, and he feels himself wanting nothing more than to gently wipe the stress right off that pretty face of yours.
He swears he could do it too—if you’d let him.
Unfortunately, you’re far more stubborn than he is when it comes to matters of the heart. In the few personal conversations the two of you have just barely managed to have, he can tell your mind is constantly elsewhere. Constantly distant.
You could be sitting a few feet away from him, looking him directly in the eyes, and actively engaging in conversation with him but he can still see that something-, or someone else is on your mind.
And of course he doesn’t know it but that’s another issue for you.
How can you be expected to get close with Nanami on your own accord when Higuruma is still lingering around in your mind?
Perhaps it was because being with him was the last time you got to do something for yourself. Or maybe it was the simple fact that the night with Higuruma still replays in your head while you’re at your most vulnerable. Or, even worse, possibly it’s the way that man hasn’t reached out to you once and how much that bothers you.
How fair is it that you’re still thinking about him all this time later as your life is falling apart and yet he’s probably not doing the same at all, considering the way he refuses to contact you?
Was that single night with him really not enough to have him wanting more? Had you meant so little to him because you were a mere stranger? Would you ever see him again—and if you did, would he even rejoice in the reconnection?
At some point, you find that the more you let thoughts of Higuruma plague you, the further you distance yourself from your fiancé. While that was your preferred outcome, you felt that it wasn’t fair to Nanami to have someone else on your mind like this.
It was one thing to avoid him out of parental rebellion but it was another thing entirely to do so because of another man who’d clearly forgotten about you some time ago.
——
Hence why you allow yourself one day to try getting to know Nanami about seven months into your engagement to him.
Yes, seven months in. That’s seven months of dry conversation, seven months of stubborn avoidance, seven months of trying to prove to your parents that you’d never be happy in this, and seven months of Nanami suffering from feeling his heart long for you more and more despite the lack of reciprocation.
While the change is certainly unexpected on his end, he doesn’t shoot down the opportunity to get somewhere personal with you for once.
You woke up that day telling yourself that if he started a conversation with you, you wouldn’t be as dismissive as you usually are with him. When you ran into him in the hallway first thing that morning, you greeted him with a smile that made his heart skip several beats.
Not only was it unfair for you to have neglected him for so long—for reasons outside of your parents and the overall dynamic of your relationship—but it was also unfair how much of an effect you seemed to have on the man.
His cheeks hued a soft shade of pink upon being greeted so kindly and the awkward little murmur of good morning wishes that came your way in response had you feeling rather good about your new little plan.
Perhaps giving Nanami a chance wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe you wouldn’t have to fake being happy for the entirety of your being with him. Though, you know deep down that’s exactly what your parents wanted from the get go.
At least it’ll be on your own terms though, right?
The entire day of giving Nanami a chance goes by at a normal pace. You share a breakfast with him instead of skipping out on it and starving yourself for half the day as you normally do, the two of you not only head to work together but you’re also spotted acting like an actual couple for once, and the day later concludes on quite the sweet note.
Which brings you to the end of said day where you’re just pushing away from the dinner table and helping Nanami to collect the dishes and carry them off to the kitchen. He gentlemanly takes your plate before you could even turn with it and leads the way, to which you slowly follow after.
This is where the real rare part came in. Before today, you’d always bid him goodnight after sitting in uncomfortable silence and forking at food you hardly had a taste for. But now—now that you’d spent the day trying something different—you figured you shouldn’t let things end as they normally do.
Nanami has moved to wash the dishes by the time you enter the kitchen, and you come to lean against the counter to watch him. He caught on to your change in attitude earlier that day, so it doesn't surprise him too much to see you changing other things in your routine like this.
“Thank you for today,” He starts out easily, sponge in hand and skin soaked up to his wrists with soapy water.
Your brows twinge at that almost instantly, “You don’t have to thank me for that, Kento.”
Ah, the sound of his name on your tongue has never been sweeter.
Nanami’s hands are still against the submerged dishes, and you catch the way his shoulders tighten ever so slightly before relaxing again. Then he shakes himself out of his surprise, “I do though,” He says a moment after, his voice a tinge quieter. “It meant more than you think.”
His delicately spoken words have you seeing things from a new perspective for once. You’d spent all this time so wrapped up in being trapped in a relationship that you nearly forgot he was just as trapped as you were. It’s not like he signed up for this, the only difference between you and him was the fact that his parents spent their whole time raising him into being exactly what he was now: a product of marriage for the company.
Meanwhile you had been blindsided by your parents for years.
When you take everything into consideration, you realize both you and Nanami are living on two different sides of the same coin. During the past few months you spent resenting him as much as you did your situation, you’d been incredibly lonely and now you wonder if he’d felt that way his entire life.
To be raised the way he was is nothing short of cruel, but at least with this engagement he wouldn’t have to live in that cruelness all alone—so long as you take the blame off his shoulders and replace it with a feeling of understanding. To be trapped in a relationship is one thing, but to be trapped in a relationship with Nanami Kento doesn’t have to be as horrid as you’ve spent months convincing yourself it would be.
The kitchen you both occupy is calm now that his thanks has settled into the air. Sounds of dishes clinking softly, the warm water splashing against his skin, and the distant hum of your shared home gave you a domestic feel for a mere moment
Your eyes find Nanami, quietly admiring his acute focus on getting those plates and utensils clean. You knew this from the day you met him but, he was never a bad looking man. Hell, he had a list of redeemable qualities.
Months you’ve spent living alongside him, existing in the same space, eating across from him, and yet this feels like the first time you’ve allowed your eyes the liberty of lingering with no resistance. Between your appreciative glances, something of guilt swells up inside you—as if you weren’t supposed to be looking at him like this after spending so long ignoring him.
But at the same time, he is your husband-to-be.
You push yourself away from the counter and then round it, still taking all of his build in for the first time. His back is the first thing that yanks at your attention as you pace somewhere behind him.
Gaze tracing the line of his back, you notice how structured and broad it is—a feature you noted upon first sight of him in your father’s office before. The tension of the day rests clearly in his posture and the way he holds himself upright. His dress shirt pulls across his shoulders whilst his hands busy against those dishes and you nearly walk into the opposing counter-side when the fabric stretches just enough to tease at something bulky resting beneath.
You swallow thickly and turn your head away sharply to distract yourself.
Because you’re standing behind him, you miss how he grins to himself—having felt your eyes on him, but not daring to comment on it. He’d acknowledged the same thing you did: the two of you are engaged and fully allowed to gawk at one another.
Nanami had indulged in it more times than he’d probably ever admit to you, unable to focus on anything else whenever you’re around.
With the way you’d turned your head away to stop yourself from drooling over a man you willingly ignored for far too long, you notice a small radio tucked neatly into a corner. Curiosity quickly gets the better of you and you snatch the item right up into your hands.
Toying with the buttons rather cluelessly, you wonder why Nanami’s got a radio sitting in the kitchen when you’ve never heard the man play music a day in your life.
Even though you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for as long as you’ve known him…
You’re not sure what exactly you press but something soft begins to leave the radio and you're quick to locate what appears to be the volume knob, turning it and letting the sound of Be Like a Woman replace those domesticated noises that were starting to get to you moments ago.
It’s a little staticky at first, just barely crackling the song to life with grainy distortion before the device remembers its own function and plays out smoothly.
The moment your ears pick it up, you smile to yourself and fall into a slow sway.
Behind you, the sound of running water comes to a steady stop. You don’t turn right away as the music settles fully, wrapping around you and your idle sways to it.
As if delighted by the tune, Nanami’s eyes locate you from over his shoulder with passive quickness.
It takes you a moment or two before you glance back at him, spotting an outstretched hand, and then biting back a smile at the implication. “You can’t be serious.” You murmur, even though you’d already set the tone for dancing.
“Humor me,” Nanami hums, a kind smile working wonders at turning your heart to mush. “One dance won’t kill you, will it?”
You continue to gape at his hand as if it’d go away without you saying something. Sighing, you’re careful with the way you bring your eyes up to meet his.
This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To try?
“I suppose not.” You respond while moving to take his hand and let him gently bring you closer.
His palm is moist from the water he’d hastily dried off and it tightly locks against your own. Then as he guides you toward himself, his other hand lifts before stopping just short of your waist. There’s a question and request for consent in his eyes—to which you grant by looking down at his not-yet-connecting hand, and then back up at his face to nod.
Nanami’s touch eases into your side and both of your bodies sway right into one another. Your free hand finds his shoulder to rest on, and just like that the two of you are dancing.
It’s naturally a mix of slow ‘n awkward at first but what makes it an act to relish in is the way you both feel the romance bundling about.
The subtle clumsiness of it all is enough to make you break eye contact first, looking off to the side as you sway together. That is, before Nanami tilts his head toward the direction you’ve focused your attention into and whispers, “You’re good at this.”
God, his voice was much too endearing for you to ignore—especially all close to you like this. You shake your head and let your eyes roll playfully, “We’re just swaying back and forth, it doesn’t take much skill.”
Nanami chuckles at that and you feel your heart thumping a little louder. "Then I suppose I shouldn't be too proud of myself," He murmurs.
You release a soft huff, the sound light and easygoing—much unlike how the two of you have been for months.
Your bodies continued in their dance with one another, everything steady and close as the music continued to envelop you.
Soon your hand shifts slightly on his shoulder, fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt and feeling how firm he is beneath it.
Nanami's reaction is near-immediate.
He inhales sharply to show that the touch had clearly caught him off guard, composure thinning by the second. Then his jaw tightens a bit and you see a faint flush creeping in along the highest points of his cheekbones.
Cute.
Unable to control your grin, "Kento..?" You murmur.
Instead of answering right away as he usually does, Nanami seems to be lost in thought before he responds. His hand tightens at your waist just a faction and his mouth is slow to open and close with words struggling to leave him.
"I've uh..." He starts, only to stop shortly after.
You're patient with him and give no sense of hurry with how you're staring up at him.
Clearing his throat, "I've wanted to do this for a while." Nanami admits quietly, eyes dropping.
Your brows raise, "What, dance with me?"
His gaze flickers and something in between shy and utterly embarrassed flashes over him. The way he shakes his head all slowly makes you want get the sudden desire to bite him or something.
"...No," The honesty in his singly spoken word makes your chest clench.
Swallowing thickly, "Then what?" You ask.
Your dancing gets impossibly slower and you're left to realize just how close you two are. Breaths are shared, gazes are locked onto everything but one another's, and it's almost like the music had stopped playing just to highlight the mirroring beats of your hearts.
Nanami's head tips to the side and he leans in, stopping just short of pressing his lips to yours, and leaving your breath to hitch.
Were you really gonna let him kiss you? That easily?
His lips graze yours and you're unconsciously gripping onto both his hand and his shoulder with something anxious building inside you. You didn't realize how badly you wanted this until it was—quite literally—dangling in front of your face.
“May I?” He utters, oh-so-sure your rejection will be what follows.
To his surprise, you’re already nodding.
And then it happens. Then his lips are meeting yours and you're feeling the way he flinches as if he hadn't initiated the whole thing.
Something vibrates inside his mouth but you're unsure whether or not it's a hum or some sort of whine. Nanami kisses you in a tentative way, testing something delicate with every soft slip of his mouth to yours.
Your hands leave each other and he carefully wraps the both of his arms around you as your arms do the same with his neck.
For a first kiss with the man you've been engaged to for seven months—it's not exactly what you expected.
Nanami is surprisingly shy with it, almost as if he doesn't know what the hell he's doing. Because of this, you're guiding him through most. of it and he's blindly following your lead.
Even so, the kiss is quite sweet, and when you pull away, your eyes widen out at how much he's blushing.
You didn't know a man's face could go so red from a single kiss. Especially a kiss without tongue. You hardly did anything!
When Nanami's eyes open, they meet with yours briefly in hopes you won't comment on how embarrassed he seems to be.
Luckily for him, you find the hues of pinks and reds on his face endearing enough to move your hands up to his face and cup his cheeks into your palms. He's warm against your skin and you hear his breath stutter when you pull him in for another kiss.
It's clear that you never really know how badly you wanted or needed something until you have it.
This time around, the kiss is needy. Your lips part over one another and he lets you slip your tongue into his mouth, groaning at the connection, and pressing forward with you until your lower back meets the nearby counter.
Nanami keeps kissing you like he doesn't know how to, but you find yourself enjoying the liberty of leading him through it.
That is, until he grunts into your mouth and you feel something solid twitching against your front. You try to ignore it at first, telling yourself there's no way he popped a boner from kissing you, but that grows increasingly difficult as his hulking frame melts into you entirely.
You nibble on his lower lip a little, whispering, "Kento.." as if ready to scold him.
Nanami panics. Fuck, why do you choose now of all times to call out his name? He's already trying his best not to cu-
"Are you hard?" You ask.
Fuck. Why would you ask him that? Can you feel it? Has he accidentally rubbed up against you?
"U-Uhm-," Nanami chokes on his own breath. "I-, what?"
You snort.
There's no way you find this funny, right?
"I asked if you were hard," You repeat nonchalantly, caressing his face, "Did kissing me like that turn you on?"
"Well.. uh," He gapes at you like one big himbo, "I-Is it that obvious...?"
Now you're giggling, "I mean, I can feel it."
"Sorry," He looks down to avoid getting even more turned on from the way you're staring at him. "I told you I've been wanting to do this for a while and-, well... I didn't mean to get so excited from it, sorry."
"You don't have to apologize for it, Ken." You comfort sweetly.
The nickname makes his situation worse by a long shot, sticky dribbles of precum promptly oozing out of his blushing tip. God, did you have any idea what you were doing to him?
With the way you remove an arm from around his neck and begin to trail your hand down his body, it's clear that you most certainly did. "I just didn't expect you to be so reactive like that," Your tone is different now.
Something sultry is in your voice and it's making poor Nanami nervous beyond belief.
He'd never gone this far with a woman.
Shrugging, "Well, most virgins are rather sensitive to touch, I'm sure." Nanami says timidly.
Your hands freeze against him and you blink. "You're a virgin?"
He nods.
The way he kept avoiding eye contact with you, the sound he let out when you initially kissed him, and the way he flinched at your touch shifting earlier all make so much sense now.
“Does that... turn you off?" Nanami asks, voice airy. "Me not being experienced?”
“What? No, of course not!” You pull him closer and then push up to peck at his mouth, “If we’re really getting married then, I’ll take care of you, Kento.”
That makes his head spin with dizziness and his cock throb. So much so that he's hardly even thinking straight as he asks, “You want to wait?”
You blink again. “You.. don’t?”
Because of the nature of your relationship, you always just assumed Nanami would prefer to wait 'til marriage, and now that he's admitted to you that he's a virgin, you were sure on that fact more now than ever.
You never had a preference of when sex between you two happened since you spent most of your time failing to think of a way out of this engagement.
“I’m sure our parents would prefer it if we did.” Nanami tells you.
Oh.
It was true, both of your parents would probably prefer the two of you doing things the more "traditional" way, but with that rebellious streak still lingering inside you...
“Perhaps we shouldn’t, then.” Flies out of your mouth without second thought as you're pressing up on him—tits neat against his chest.
“I agree.” Nanami rushes out, thinking only with what's drooling in between his legs right now instead of his head. “Let’s have something for ourselves."
——
And have something for yourselves you did.
While one would think that after a softly whispered claim such as that, the two of you would end up fucking like feral beasts within the next few minutes… that’s not quite how Nanami loses his virginity to you.
Instead, you two agree not to do anything that night.
Nanami mentioned something about not being ready for it by the time you both made it to the bedroom, but in actuality, he was a bit fearful to have sex. He told himself that kissing you would be enough for the time being, and you went right along with it.
…Until the following morning, that is.
Now, after you and Nanami finally seemed to resolve whatever thick walls of tension had been between you both, you took it upon yourself to share a bed with him. Nanami, having been crushing on you from the moment he laid eyes on you, would’ve been a fool to deny you of your wish to do so when you’d asked.
Which is exactly how you two ended up in the position you’re in now—snuggled up together in what used to be his bedroom but would soon be shared between you both.
Nanami remembers vividly how he told you he wanted to wait to take things to the next level but that request seems to have been tossed right out the window as he stirs awake first. He’d always been one to think with what’s in his head instead of what’s in his pants but it seems a simple night of sleeping in the same bed as you is enough to change things for him.
This isn’t the first time he’s woken up with a troublesome throb coming from in between his legs—especially not since he’s been living with you—but it’s downright ironic how he just told you he wanted to wait and now his body was desiring otherwise.
Nanami keeps his eyes shut for a while, hoping his boner would magically go away before you wake up.
Unfortunately for him, you don’t even have to wake up for his situation to get worse.
His eyes end up shooting open as a soft breath of air flutters against his naked chest, making him keenly aware of your resting face smushed up against him. Then other sensations occur; the scent of your shampoo trickles up into his nose, your chest snuggly presses into his side, and your entire leg has been thrown over him somewhere in your sleep.
His gaze lifts up to the ceiling in hopes he can ignore how those combined factors do nothing more for him than lead his cock to weep small dribbles of precum against his sweatpants.
Nanami had gone to sleep in only his sweats due to the fact that you’d already been in his room by the time he got in the shower last night. He never found an appropriate time to slip in to grab the boxers he’d conveniently forgotten, so now he was dealing with his tip leaving a prominent wet spot against the grey fabric concealing his erection.
Fuck, he’s sure if you were to open your eyes now, you’d be met with the nasty sight. The worst part about it is the fact that you laying on top of him is only making it worse by the second because his brain just won't shut up.
He can’t help but wonder how you’d react seeing him like this—knowing you’re the reason he gets so uncomfortably hard. Would you scold him for it? Tell him off and call him a perv even after the lighthearted events of last night?
Or would you comfort him? Show him another side of you he’s only ever dreamed of seeing?
Either way he knows he’s screwed since his cock twitches at both thoughts.
And then you shift.
The hand you had laying idle on his chest slides down a little and his dick bobs its thick head up against his sweats. Being so sensitive to your touch was faring much worse for him than he expected it to.
Your head moves a bit as you stir awake and Nanami’s heart is pounding so hard in his chest that he wonders if you can feel it. You turn to groggily look at him, immediately met with his half-lidded eyes meeting yours as the morning sunlight highlights the flush decorating his cheeks.
You blink a few times before mumbling, “Morning Ken.”
The arm Nanami’s had comfortably wrapped around you grips you ever so slightly. Then he whispers back to you, “Good morning, love.”
Warmth settles into your heart at the sound of that.
“Are you okay? Your face is all red,” You point out, lifting your hand away from his chest and up to feel his forehead.
“I’m fine,” He lies, knowing you’re just one glance down from realizing he’s everything but.
You nod though, moving to sit halfway up and extend your arms over your head to stretch. Nanami watches you carefully, having spent night after night dreaming he’d wake up to this very sight.
Seeing you wearing a shirt of his because you were too lazy to go grab one of your own last night, gaze following how the fabric hugs you—Nanami is forced to adjust his hips a bit.
He feels utterly perverted staring at you like this while his mind works up the most sinful imaginations of you so early in the morning.
You’re likely about to depart from his room and yet he’s laying there wondering how your hands would feel exploring every inch of him.
“Kento,” He flinches at the abrupt utterance of his name. Then he focuses his attention back onto your face and notices where your eyes have finally fallen. “Do you uhm,” You point at his crotch, “Do you want help with that?”
Something especially wet slides down the side of his cock—as if he were literally drooling from his tip. Glancing down at himself, then back up at you, “You can ignore it if you want. I just—“
“I don’t wanna ignore it, though.” You admit, leaning closer to him.
Nanami’s breath catches for a moment and he tries to sit up, only to be stopped by your hand meeting his chest and lightly pushing him back down. Eyes softening on you, “What are you doing?”
“I told you I’d take care of you last night, didn’t I?” You remind him.
He gulps, “Yes but… I didn’t think you’d want to do something like this. It’s embarrassing and..."
As he speaks, your hand is traveling down the smooth, yet firm board of his abs—feeling him tense 'n twitch the lower your touch gets.
It's not until you're playing with the drawstrings of his sweats that he lets out a rather submissive noise. "...A-Are you really going to touch that?" Nanami squeaks.
You smile at him innocently, "Touch what?"
The usual base in his voice is all but lost as he gulps, "My cock."
"We agreed to have something for ourselves," Your fingers halt against his drawstrings and then slip under the fabric, skimming over the light tufts of blonde hair just above his base. "So unless you want me to stop, I should like to have this for myself."
Nanami shakes his head slowly, chest rising and falling as his nervousness runs rampant throughout his body, "N-No, don't stop."
Those words are exactly what lead you to jerking your fiancé off on that slow morning, eventually working his cock out of his sweats and kissing at his flushed skin as your hand travels up 'n down his length.
It was more intimate than it was inherently sexual up until Nanami began returning the favor. In the middle of your lips locking against his, you felt a hand creep in between your legs—palming your pussy just to feel how wet you got from jerking him off.
As Nanami's big hand lightly squeezed and then rubbed over you through the cottony shorts you were clad in, you both began to pant heavily into one another's mouth.
The room got hotter and both of you got needier, your thumb teasing his sobbed tip as it traveled through his slit, and his hand wasting no time in locating your core without all the measly fabrics in the way.
He hadn't even seen you and yet he was muttering into your mouth, “God, you’re gorgeous..." Two long fingers gliding up 'n down your leaky entrance, “I’ve thought this from the moment I met you.”
“Mgh-, Kento,” You gasped in return, your hand growing shaky around his dick whilst your wet lips messily detached from his.
Nanami may have been unexperienced and shy but the second half of that seemed to go out the window the moment he felt how aroused you were. "Can I feel how gorgeous you are in here?" He politely asked, fingertips rounding your oozy hole and daring to slip inside.
As you nod, he watched your face intently to see your expression twist up in response to his digits greeting your warmth. Then your hand had tightened around his cock and he hissed out some sort of low curse.
It wasn’t long before the two of you were making a mess around each other’s hand. But that didn’t seem to be enough for either of you—especially not Nanami who’d been waiting for this day for months.
When you soon strip what’s left of your clothes off, tossing them across the room, and then throwing your leg over his body to straddle him, he gapes up at you in pure awe.
There’s nothing sexier than watching the woman he’d silently fallen for get on top of him with such a starved look in her eye.
And the way you move to grab his cock—angling it against your cunt and furrowing your brows with great focus—has his jaw left open. Drool slips out the corner of his mouth and nothing can compare to watching you slooowly sink down on him.
Nanami never thought himself to be big or anything like that, but considering the way you struggle and flinch as he enters you…
He nearly gets nervous all over again before your head tips back and you slip further down, fluttering walls swallowing him in thankfully with a sloshy squelch ringing out upon each quivering inch.
“Kento,” You husk out, moving one hand to his lower abdomen for support just as he grabs at your waist.
“You say my name so sweetly,” Nanami compliments with sweat causing his blond hairs to cling to his forehead. Eyes batting up, “Does… Does it feel good?” He nearly moans, “Do I feel good inside you?”
You’d thought it be obvious based on the whorish way in which your face is twisting up—tears coating your waterline from the long stretch of his cock.
Each time you think you’ve met his deft base, you found yourself still traveling down on him. Nanami’s cock stood up straight with no curve, giving you nonexistent room to run or escape his sheer size.
“Uhuh, yes,” You eventually whimper.
He seems a little unconvinced below you, “You keep squirming, though. Are you sure?”
“Kento,” You lock eyes with him and his cock twitches against the lathering edges of your inner walls, “You feel fuckin’ perfect inside me.”
“O-Oh.” Then his hips snap upwards uncontrollably, and your body jerks along with it as you moan out. “Sorry,” Nanami huffs, repeating the movement despite his apology, “Fuck-, sorry. You feel s-so good-, ngh.. so wet ‘n warm.”
It was almost like he couldn’t help himself. As soon as he heard your praise and saw the way his your cunt lips bulged around the very wide ‘n thumping base of his cock, his hips moved on their own.
He was fucking himself up into you and watching how pretty your tits looked bouncing along with the rest of your body before he knew it.
Hearing you cry out, “Kentoo! Nngh, right there.”
“There? Do I feel good there?” He asked, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust.
Your goopy insides gobble up everyyyy inch of him so perfectly that he feels like he’ll cum in you without realizing it any second now. Especially as you begin to rock your hips along with him, gaining your own momentum and fucking yourself down on him to further paint his cock with filthy traces of your slick.
“Hahh, your hips won’t stop moving,” Nanami grunt, brows taut together, “Do you like my cock that much?”
His only response to that is a wild throb around him.
To which he smirks briefly, “S’that-, hahh.. S’that supposed to be a yes?"
Left to whine helplessly, your hands clasp over his wrists and he maneuvers them to hold them instead as you nod.
“Say it then,” Nanami hums, “I want to hear more of you, instead of her.”
Her..? Your brows furrow, “Wha—“
Oh. As Nanami’s thumb darts across your clit, you understand quickly what he meant.
“F-Fuuck,” You moan, “Yes-, just like that, Ken’.”
Something pitiful ‘n creamy gushes up into you but neither of you really acknowledge it.
“Yeah? Fuck,” Nanami curses lowly, his pupils dilated out, “More, p-praise me more… Please?”
Your fingers clench at the skin of his large hands, hips rolling back ‘n forth with needy vigor as his dick knocks around every nook of your cunt.
“Ken, s’good. Ah! You’re doin’ so good for me,” You praise all prettily, head tilting a little once you realize he’s left most of the movement to you, “J-Just-, mngh! Just go a little harder. You can be rough with me.”
His eyes soften, “Are you sure? I don’t want to-“
“Kento.” You scold, “Fuck me.”
That flips a switch in Nanami’s head and you lose the hand holding with him as he grabs ahold of your body and promptly flips you over. Your back clashes into the fluff of the bed and he slips out of you for a second too long, hurrying to stretch at your wet core once more.
“Is that it? S’that how you want me, sweetheart?” Nanami heaves with a different look in his eyes. Before you can even answer him, he’s got two fingers pulling your pussylips apart to watch that glossy, debauched sight of his cock entering you again. “Yeahhh, this is how you like it. Goddd, I’ve fantasized about this, y’know.”
Your legs are captured into his hands within the next moment and he’s got you in a meann mating press as if to prove a point. It’s almost like your little permission of a harder fucking had challenged him or something.
Nanami’s voice sticks against your ear, “Got off just thinking about how good it’d feel inside you and n-now—“ Both your body and the bed jolt up with his rude thrusting, the mushroomy head of his dick kissing at your sweet spot, “Fuck, now I’m in here.”
“Uhuhhh,” Your jaw slacks and you’re the one drooling as if fucked-out now.
He lifts his head for a moment just to hold eyes with you. Whispering, “Deep in here too, huh?”
You pout, “D-Don’t get cocky.”
“I’m just being honest, look.” His hand moves to splay out against the fat bulge of his cock nestled inside of you.
You moan, nibbling at your bottom lip to conceal a slutty little smile, "Yeah, but you also-, mmh.. you also came inside me."
Nanami smiles back at you for realizing he’d already experienced an orgasm, "Hahh.. accidents happen..”
"No, you meant to do that,” You tease back with your arms wrapping around his neck.
"I have an obligation to breed my girl, do I not?" With that, another load is being french kissed against your womb, globs and globs of an impossibly thicker substance filling you.
You tug him down for a kiss and your lips tangle against one another as you whisper into his groans, "I suppose you do."
——
It would’ve been lovely if that intimate morning was the very thing that solidified your relationship with Nanami. The days after were filled with a more loving relationship, leading both of you to assume things from there on out would work.
And it should’ve! It really, really should’ve.
But you were forgetting one rather important factor.
It was foolish for you to think life was gonna let you fall for another man without throwing a surprise at you.
The following days after you and Nanami finally seemed to break down whatever walls were being held up between you, something changed.
You noticed Nanami on his phone more often, heard him chuckling on calls at inappropriate hours of the night, and caught a newfound light lingering in his eyes as if you and someone else were brightening his every day.
Now, you know Nanami wouldn’t be dumb enough to have an affair going on during his engagement to you—especially when he’s the one who had less of a problem with the arranged marriage to begin with. But, at the same time, he started to act differently.
Not with you, of course. Just… with everything else.
He almost seemed happier in some ways. You wanted to rejoice in the positive energy he radiated now, but there was a shadow of doubt casting over you at every turn.
Something bad was on the uprise.
And that something rears its ugly head on the day Nanami calls you out to help a “friend” of his move into the city.
You almost said no—and maybe you should’ve—but with the way he asked all soft ‘n hopefully like he just wanted to include you in more parts of his life now that you two were somewhat happily together, it was too hard to turn him down.
Besides, you told yourself that this is what you wanted, right?
Hence why you’re pulling up to an address for some luxury apartment complex Nanami had sent you, and aiding him with unloading a truck full of boxes.
Swirling around as the sun casts its warm glow down onto the right side of your face, you glance down at the box that’s found itself in your hand for a moment. It was rather large ‘n heavy when you swiped it up so obviously you grow curious about what’s in it.
The word Gavels is printed out over the top in Shappie, making you snort a bit. “Ken, is your best friend a judge or something?” You ask curiously, looking over his way.
Nanami waves a dismissive hand at you playfully, “Ignore him and his weird assortment of items. I couldn’t tell you why he has that, honestly.”
You chuckle again and open your mouth to say something just as you catch the apartment complex doors swinging open. Unfortunately, your words die out on your tongue along with your smile the moment you see a familiar face strolling towards you and Nanami.
Your heart sinks to your ass and you think you’ve lost all sense of movement as you and the familiar face in question lock eyes.
Higuruma nearly trips—just barely managing to catch his footing before making a fool of himself. Quickly taking his eyes off of you and hoping he’s just imagining things, he makes way towards your fiancé.
You hoped for a second that he wasn’t the best friend who’s been bringing Nanami’s energy up lately. There’s no way, ri—
“Kento,” Fuck. “Is this one giving you some trouble?” Higuruma asks before reaching his hands out to take the box Nanami’s holding, “You’ve been out here for a while, I was starting to get worried.”
Nanami, none the wiser, smiles softly as he keeps the box close to him, “No, no, I was getting distracted by my darling fiancée here.” Then he gestures your way with a tilt of his head and gives Higuruma your name to introduce you.
And god is it awkward.
The two of you don’t bother meeting eyes, Higuruma introduces himself as if he doesn’t vividly remember the way you were drooling his name out into his bedsheets some months ago, and both of you can feel how things are about to play out from here on out already.
After the thin-lipped, unnecessary exchange of names, Higuruma steps forward to try helpfully taking the weighty box out of your hands.
“Ah, no, it’s fine,” You shake your head and step back a bit, “I’ve got it.”
He ignores your claims, “No, please, I insist. This is one of the heavier boxes left.”
His hands meet the ends of said box, brushing over yours.
Tension shoots throughout your body as if you’d been shot and your voice bursts out of you with more conviction in it than necessary, “Really, I’m fine.”
As if he handn;t heard a thing you just said, Higuruma’s eyes steady onto yours and it’s like his hold on you returns all in one moment. Memories of that night wash over every thought you’ve had since and your breath is nowhere to be found as he finally takes the box from you. Sternly humming, “Allow me.”
Again—awkwaaaaard.
You clear your throat and try to recompose yourself by looking away, “There’s uh, there’s a lot of gavels in there…” Maybe if you pretend not to know him, that’ll help your situation? “Are you a judge?”
Hopefully he doesn’t remember you.
Higuruma stops to think for a moment, then smirks, “Depends…” He trails off for a second much too long. “Is that your type?”
The question—the theme of which had been repeated to you multiple times throughout that night you spent together—has a chill churning down your body and straight to your cunt. You almost wish you’d forgotten about him now because it was clear he damn sure didn’t.
Nanami nudges his arm, turning to him, “Are you flirting with my fiancée, right in front of me? Have you no shame?” He teases.
Higuruma sends him an innocent smile, “You hate it when I flirt with you, so I thought I’d try something a little different.”
The two men carry on with banterful conversation that somehow manages to exclude you, but you’re stuck reeling over the fact that this is truly happening to you.
Your fiancé’s best friend is the same man you slept with on the day before you got engaged.
What the hell are you gonna do now?
——
Simple; you’ll treat Higurma the same way you treated Nanami for the first seven months of your engagment—avoiding him like the fuckin’ plague.
Even being in the same room with him was like torture though.
Higuruma was shameless with how he sent you these accusatory looks, as if it were somehow your fault that you two spent a night together just for you to end up marrying his best friend.
Who seemed to be a little more than that to Higuruma as the weeks passed by, might you add…
Maybe it was just that shamelessness of his, but Higuruma wasn’t exactly subtle with how he eyes your fiancé. Like, not subtle at all.
You’re not blind and you’re far from stupid—you know what a yearning man looks like.
The only confusing thing about it was the fact that Higurma shared those gazes between you and Nanami as if he were experiencing bi-panic every single time he interacted with you guys.
Nanami seemed clueless to all of this. Which, checks out considering he’d spent so long as a virgin and probably doesn’t have the best sense of picking up on flirtatious or romantic looks.
None of that takes away from the tension building between the three of you though.
You could keep yourself distanced from Higuruma all you wanted, but if he had any say in the matter—which apparently he did—this wouldn’t last forever.
In fact, it only lasts until the night before your wedding.
Because you kept Nanami in the dark when it came to what had happened between you and Higuruma, he would constantly bring the three of you together. You would all meet up for lunches, go out for drinks, and linger a little too long in conversations that should've felt harmless but never did.
The three of you fit together rather naturally.
So much so that after a long day of being with the both of them, you just barely managed to break off into your Higuruma's kitchen for a moment to breathe. It was hard pretending that he didn't have you uneasy, particularly on nights like this where Nanami instead the two of you spend time at his place.
You were supposed to walk down the aisle tomorrow and yet the marriage had somehow become the least of your worries.
Now you were stress cleaning a spotless counter, panicking in thought of how the your married days would play out if Nanami planned to never break his friendship with that devilishly handsome lawyer.
And what would you even say if Nanami ever found out about—
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Higuruma murmured, voice like a cruel drag of burning smoke to your spine.
You swirl around, already looking for an escape.
He naturally steps in your way before you can even depart from the counter, “Don’t try doing it now, either. I just want to talk.”
Shit.
Letting your shoulders slump, “What is there to talk about?” You ask.
Everything about the conversation you begin to have with him goes by with rapid fire questions and responses.
Higuruma enters the kitchen fully and makes his way towards you. Keeping his voice low, “Aren’t you curious?”
You remain where you are, too fearful to make any sudden movements just yet, “Of?”
“Why I didn’t contact you.” He clarifies.
“No.”
He stops just short of entering your personal space and a stupid smirk appears on his face, “Liar.”
“Asshole.” You shoot back.
He scoffs, “That was cute.” Stepping closer again, “But you don’t mean that.”
You finally manage to shift further back, “It doesn't matter why you didn't contact me, considering I’m engaged now.”
“I’m well aware,” Higuruma chuckles, “To quite the astonishing man, might I add.”
The compliment rolled so easily off his tongue that it almost made you jealous. But, in the recent time you'd come to know Higuruma again, you'd learned that he and Nanami had been "friends" for years.
Friends remaining in quotes due to the questionable way in which Higuruma's voice softens whenever he speaks highly of his best friend, how his eyes showcase something of longing within them, and how he admires your partner in a manner well beyond something friendly.
"Fine, I'll bite." You soon sigh as you fold your arms, “How could you not call, or text? I didn't leave my number for no reason.”
“I knew you were curious." He hums victoriously, "Anyhow, I was busy, and—“
That ticks you off faster than you expect it to and words shoot out of your mouth carrying solid repugnance, “People make time for what and who they care about.”
Higuruma also decides to speak without thinking, staring you down as he says, “How could I care about you? I spent one night with you.”
That hits much harder than you expect it to.
You thought you'd moved on but the feelings you'd been harboring for the man come back all in one moment, “Wow.”
“I'm being honest. I hardly knew you,” He shrugs, “We had a wonderful night, but I was swamped with responsibilities directly after—especially between work and preparing to move.”
“I don't even know why I asked.” You scoff, rolling your eyes elsewhere and attempting to turn away, "Fuck you"
Higuruma bites back a smile. That’s fair—he thinks, hating how your immediate response for him never fails to rial him up. It’s one thing (amongst others) that he couldn’t stop thinking about after that night with you, “You did that already."
"Save me the cliche responses." You nearly push past him, "If you have nothing of substance to talk about with me, then i’m—“
He steps in your way again, flying a hand to your waist that you don't even try to remove. Then both his words and voice comes out softer, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Your jaw tenses, “It’s worth noth-“
“You don’t have to lie to me,” He interrupts as if he knew exactly what you were gonna say. “I know it’s worth something to you, don’t be so stubborn.”
For the first time since he'd entered the kitchen, you manage to meet eyes with him, “Why should it be worth anything to me when the night we spent together wasn’t worth anything to you?!”
“I never said that.” Higuruma claims.
“Well, it was heavily implied.” You scoff, yet to remove his hand from your waist. “Where’s Kento?”
“Asleep.”
Your tongue clicks, “Ah, so you’ve ambushed me. Got it.”
The man laughs, “Not at all. I only want to talk.”
“You don’t have to be this close to talk to me.”
“It’s the only way you’ll listen, as I’ve come to learn.”
You ultimately smack his hand off, “...It’s wrong to touch an engaged woman in this way.” Higuruma scoffs and you send him a glare, “Something funny?”
A smug look takes over his usually tied features, “We both know you don’t really want anything to do with Kento or that arrangement you’re trapped in.”
You're left offended, “You don’t know shit.”
“Oh yeah?” Higuruma challenges, “Then why—“
“—and I don’t owe you any sort of explanations. I don’t need you to save me from this, or to sweet talk your way back into my life.” You explain, despite yourself, “I don’t need you, period.”
He takes a moment to let your words settle, then the corner of his lips quirk further up, “Does lying to yourself like this help you cope?”
“Cope with what.” You breathe.
“Cope with the fact that you don’t feel the slightest thing for Kento—and you may never be able to—because you’re still stuck on that night we had together.”
“I… I-I’m not-,” Your words tangle up, “I’m not stuck on anything.”
“So answer me then,” That hand returns to your waist and he takes up the space directly in front of you, his other hand coming to your chin to tip your head up, “Why have you been avoiding me?”
His touches should've felt disrespectful to what you had built with Nanami thus far, but in the moment you found yourself forgetting that.
The contact leaves you blurting your truth out, “…It’s awkward to face you.”
And he's annoyingly quick to ask, “Why?”
“Because..."
Higuruma gets closer, “Because, what? Because you can’t stop thinking about it? About that night? About me?” He leans to your ear, “About us?”
Your resolve crumbles, “…Fuck you.”
He lightly grabs a full hold of your jaw and lifts your face further up, “You want to so badly, huh? Haven’t even let poor Kento kiss you because of it, I bet.”
It was ironic how wrong he was with that statement.
But you don't get to argue about it because the man in question walks in with a loud clearing of his throat, "What’s going on here?”
You instantly shuffle away and nearly trip over yourself, muttering, “Shit.”
Higuruma remains casual and swivels around, “We were just talking, Ken’.”
The nickname on his tongue makes your stomach twist up weirdly but you refuse to label it as jealousy for sure.
“You two seemed rather close for a conversation,” Nanami says, nearing you already and bringing a warm hand to where you'd bumped into the counter, “And you hit your hip, are you alright?”
The fact that he noticed that makes your heart churn with guilt, “I-I’m fine.”
“Your voice is unsteady,” He points out, glancing at Higuruma. “What kind of conversation were you two having, exactly?”
“One of the past.” Higuruma replies for you.
“Hiromi.” You warn.
His dark brows furrow, “What? Surely you don’t mean to hide it from the man you’ll be married to by tomorrow.”
“Hide what from me?” Nanami presses.
Putting it all out there, "We slept together. The night before you two met, actually.”
Those words open an entirely new can of words that span out for the next few minutes, ultimately resulting in a series of confessions. Many truths come out all at once.
Nanami asks you if that's why the two of you spent seven months like strangers, to which you naturally deny. Then he asks if you have feelings for Higuruma and you begrudgingly admit that you do, only to get rejected again by the man—since he had a confession of his own to get out.
The night was a lot, all because Higuruma decided to ambush you in the kitchen.
Hell, with the way things play out, you nearly wonder if the two men had planned this sorta thing. Especially when all feelings have been expressed and you realize it's a three-way mess of romance with only one not-so-obvious solution.
Of which Higuruma is the one to explain by making his way in between you and Nanami.
His hand intimately glided hand along Nanami's shoulder, then his neck, and soon grabs his jaw at the same time he grabs your hand and pulls you closer.
Higuruma leans over as if to kiss Nanami before whispering, “Let me be yours.” He starts, turning to you to kiss your hand fully, “And yours—if you’ll both have me.”
Obviously, the two of you let out a choke.
“What?” You snort.
Meanwhile Nanami’s face has gone beat red, “You’re suggesting a throuple? Hours before I'm to be married??”
Higuruma meets his eyes, “Yes. Think about it, how could your family deny another powerful union?” Then he looks to you, “Same with yours. Two brilliant men at your beck and call—twice the chances of you getting pregnant, as you've mentioned they so desperately want for you.”
With all that's transpired, you hardly even remembered doing that. But, you knew he had a point.
A damn good one too.
——
And to solidify the threeway agreement you all come to after a rather hasty conversation... the three of you rightfully make your way upstairs together.
Nothing else mattered when you had two genres of your type catering to both you, and one another, within the confines of Higuruma's bedroom.
By now, your body was trembling between them as you found yourself caught right in between the raw heat of pent up arousal. Nanami's hands were gripping your hips firmly, his fingers grounding into your flesh as he thrusted deep into you. His familiarly thick shaft kept your sloshing pussy stretched with each deliberate push of his hips.
The slick sounds of skin clashing against skin crowded the room, and your muffled moans vibrated against the cock Higuruma had curving all nastily into your mouth. There was a steady rhythm between the two men that swiftly guided your body back 'n forth between their much bulkier ones.
Nanami’s stiff cock easily broke you open from the back, while Higuruma’s leftly curving length slathered against the center of your drooling tongue.
A low groan rumbled right out from Higuruma's chest, his hazed eyes locked onto your teary ones—loving the way your swollen lips stretched around him, “Ohhhh fuck, I bet you’ve been wanting this, huh?” He puffed hotly, mixing his questions with praises of, "That's it, sweet girl." and, "Take me juuust like that, mhm."
Even if you could answer him, Nanami wasn't letting up with how his pace was building. His hand slides up the delicate arch in your spine, forcing you to feel every twitching vein 'n inch of his like he'd done before—the sensation sending rapturous sparks through your core.
"Our greedy girl," He grunted, not even noticing the way Higuruma began to lean closer to him. "S'tight in here-, fuck. You were never gonna be satisfied with one or the other..."
The dual stimulation was enough to have your eyes cloudy as pretty streaks of tears ran down your face. Higuruma would do his best to wipe them from you, but when he saw how Nanami wasn't doing much better—even with how filthy he managed to speak to you—he couldn't help but get distracted.
Higuruma's cock throbbed against the roof of your mouth, your cheek hollowing out so you can swirl your tongue along his veiny underside and draw a crisp hiss from him. Then his hips buck forward and push you further back onto Nanami—making the blond gasp while you gag.
You're too busy doing exactly that to see how the Higuruma takes his hands off of you for a moment to grab at Nanami's face, tugging him over and kissing him. Nanami's thoroughly fucked out and can hardly think with the combination of your cunt quivering around him as his best friend devours the inside of his mouth.
Then Nanami's pouring his words out against Higuruma's lips, "A greedy pussy like this needs two cocks to fill her right."
Higuruma whines at that as if his dream were actively coming true. "That means we hafta' take turns ruining her, right?" He mumbles.
You barely realize what that means before Nanami's withdrawing from you, leaving your pussy all aching 'n empty—slick arousal dripping down your thighs.
A gasp hitches out of you as Higuruma then moves to take his place behind you, grabby hands pawing at your ass to spread you out for him to see. His plump tp presses against your entrance to tease you just once before he sinks in with a smooth thrust. The angle instantly hits differently—deeper, brushing against your candied walls in a way that causes your fingernails to curl into the sheets.
Meanwhile Nanami kneels in front of you now, his erection overtly rigid and shimmering with your juices. He cups your face a moment, wiping drool from your chin. "Messy girl," He whispers lovingly, tapping at your bottom lip. "Open up nice and wide for me, yeah?" He instructs.
It was clear he gained a little more confidence with the presence of his best friend.
The taste of him soon mixes with the prior taste of Higuruma on your tongue as you bob your head, feeling your tongue sore from all the weight that's rut against it for the past however many minutes.
Higuruma's hips slap harder against your skin, his palm calming down on your ass with a slight smack. You push back against him and he scoffs, "You should see the mess you're making. Should be ashamed of it, really."
Then Nanami's distracting you all over again with his hand tangling into your hair and his words landing down on you, "Swallow around me-, mhm."
You cry out around his cock, the thrum making him thrust a little more erratically. Higuruma's following soon after by burring himself impossibly deeper before choking on his own breath and spilling hot 'n sappy cum inside you.
A few seconds pass, and while he's pulling out of you to watch his seed chase after his tip with stringy shlicks, Nanami's impolitely releasing his own few thick ropes of cum down your throat.
Panting, you're slowly eased down onto the bed by the two men—who waste no time in cleaning you of their mess—and you all flop into some semblance of relaxation.
You're barely lucid but you feel Higuruma pressing kisses into your temple as Nanami keeps wiping at the lower half of your face. Then, the lawyer whispers, "I'll make it all official by morning—documents and all."
As if you cared about any of that now...
Nanami nods along though, pulling you closer and leaving you to wonder—if both men really were to become your husbands, and nights like this would occur more often...
additional tags of interest: @blkkizzat @cupidstrace @uhnosav @madamechrissy @yenayaps
another author’s note: and just in case anyone asks... no, im not going to nearly match the wc with my follower count like this ever again. i just got caught up in the plot!
Synopsis. (!) Two assignments overdue: your law professor and your history professor.
Objective: After teasing them all semester, Professor Higuruma Hiromi and Professor Nanami Kento…snap.
Time: At the same time.
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader x Higuruma Hiromi
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, history professor!Nanami, law professor!Higuruma, college AU, you’re such a TEASE, driving them wiId, they’re overworked, they’re older, tutoring, STERN Nanami, fíngering, rings, p sIapping, p talking, chokíng, rídin’ Higuruma’s nose, oraI (m + f), pússydrunk Higuruma, manhandIing, dragging, running from it, bíting, BOTH, fuII neIsons, bIindfolds, guessing, DP, SAME TIME, spítting, DÚMBlFICATlON, cervíx smoochin’, big stretches, they’re FÉRAL, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, surprise at the end, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 13.2k
A/N. You babygirls said you wanted more law professor!Higuruma so…I said why not have BOTH?!
He had you next hour.
Professor Nanami Kento - head of the History Department, PhD with Distinction - had you in his next class.
And he wasn’t even half as prepared as he should be: the coffee-maker in the staff room had broken down.
Goodness knows how many times the blond-haired man has haunted that very station. Slouched over, sighing, sipping on his seventh coffee of the day.
And although he could blame it all on the higher-ups and their stingy funding, or perhaps the frat boys of Delta Jujutsu Pi that’ve made it a challenge to sneak inside—he blames you. He wouldn’t even have latched onto such a respite had it not been for the way you made his blood pressure rise…in all sorts of ways.
Nanami’s eyes glaze over, and his hand absent-mindedly drifts between his legs. Perhaps if he got his pent-up energy out first…
“Kento.” A knock at his cubicle. And Nanami jolts his hand away as though it burned-
It was Professor Higuruma Hiromi.
The head of the Law Department. Also PhD with Distinction. The man with dark circles and even darker suits, all prim and poised as he waded through the hallways with his stacks of documents—of course, Nanami was one for suits, as well.
They really brought out his broad shoulders- at least, that’s what you told him.
Another reason why he needs the coffee.
Fuck.
Nanami attempts to even out his breathing as he looks up. “Hiromi.”
If Higuruma thought anything of Nanami’s startled reaction, he makes no indication. Instead he holds up a slim file in his hand, “Are you free? Could you help me with looking over this essay?”
“Of course.”
They were the only two in the staff room right now, besides- anything to take his mind off of you.
Nanami adjusts the gold-rimmed glasses on his face before he takes the file from him. Flipping it open to find a jumble of justice and law jargon that his history-inclined brain balks at—“I never thought you’d want a history professor’s opinion on an essay about…” He squints at the title, “-the scope of judicial power and judicial review. Does this have any names of 14th century shoguns that you need me to check?”
“No- no.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face, though Nanami gets the impression that it wasn’t for him. Rather it was for whatever ravaged at the man inside- making him look up at the ceiling with a hollow sigh—“Man, I need some coffee today.”
“Understandable.” Nanami pushes his glasses up.
“The machine’s broken, right?”
“Right.”
Higuruma only lets out another sigh that Nanami relates to well.
“If it helps, Dean Yaga said it’d be fixed by tomorrow.” Nanami attempts- he never was the type of sociable guy some of the other professors were. But he gets the feeling that Higuruma was the same.
He runs a hand down his face one last time- “That’s too late, I have tutoring this evening with…” And how Nanami Kento related to that, as well. Before he seems to shake himself out of it- somewhat. “It’s alright, could you just check the grammatical and citation stuff for me?”
“Of course.” As Higuruma leans against the partition and waits, the other professor skims through the writing. It wasn’t half bad, to be quite honest, and had it been for his own class then he would’ve given it an A—none too many mistakes except for the odd careless error. At least it was human-made.
After a while of silence, Nanami’s partway through the conclusion when he asks. “Did you happen to get tired of looking through so many essays?”
“No, it’s just…” The dark-haired man sighs once more- for about the twelfth time since he came in. “-this student, you know?”
Nanami nods—he did know. “Trouble student?”
“Not quite.” He almost gulps.
Nanami narrows his eyes. “Doesn’t attend?”
“No, she attends every class.”
“Then what?” He leans back in his chair, essay forgotten now. “The legacy kid? The credit-chaser? The class clown that isn’t actually funny?”
Higuruma cuts through them all with a fierce shake of his head. “No, no, and no—” Almost gulping. “It’s just that this student is a little…distracting.”
The tips of his ears were red.
Instantly, Higuruma looks like he regrets it.
“F-forget I said anything-”
He does.
But Nanami looks squarely at the other man.
“I have a student like that, too.”
The law professor looks at him in wary interest. “Oh?”
“My star student, actually.” Pushing his glasses up, he opens up one of his cabinets and pulls out a thick, paper-stuffed file. And though Nanami Kento does collect his students’ work for the semester to review, he never does keep them quite so close - none other than yours.
Higuruma looks through them with slightly widened eyes. “All hers?”
Nanami nods, “So diligent that it’s almost distracting.”
Higuruma pulls out an empty chair beside Nanami and sits. Legs spread. Dark eyes thoughtful. “Mine, too.” He starts—“Never have I had a student ask for so many hours of extra tutoring.”
“Mine’s basically set up a tent in my office.” Nanami chuckles- though he can’t deny the slight pang it sends down to his cock. “Always taking on more assignments for extra credit, always answering questions first-”
“Always first in class and last to leave?”
“Exactly.” Nanami agrees. And he leans a hand on his desk as he watches the other man go through those papers - they were some of his most prized possessions, he feared to admit. Words from your heart. Swooping slashes of ink from your hands.
It was a part of you in those papers that Nanami Kento held dear to him- fuck, it was a part of you that sometimes he’d bring up to his greedy nose and sniff. Almost as if he could feel your skin through these very parchments.
It made him so fuckin’ hard.
But Higuruma didn’t need to know that.
Though the careful manner in which he handled those papers - how he leaned in just a little to drown in the ink - made him wonder…
“Always wearing the skimpiest skirt to class?”
And the other man looks up in shock- as though conveying something in his silence. Oh.
He flips the file over to look at the name typed-out on the cover, and it reads—yours. Ultimately, he continues—“A-always sittin’ in the front row with her legs spread just a bit?”
Nanami nods. “Always leaning over the desk when she has to speak in private.”
There’s a slight hardening within Higuruma’s eyes - though not of any unpleasant kind - it’s almost as if something deep and carnal was stirring awake right now. “Always wearing the prettiest black lace underneath?”
“She wears baby pink for me.” Nanami can’t help but smile.
“Fuck.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face again- and if Nanami didn’t know any better then he would’ve sworn that the other professor looked even more weary than when he first came in here. “And her panties-”
“Matching set.” Nanami responds without missing a beat - and he knows he’s some ol’ pervert for this.
He knows he is.
But he also knows about the smile that’d spread across your face the moment you’d realized he’d seen. “Bent over too low when picking her pen up one class.”
“Fucking—fuck.” Higuruma sounds agonized.
Nanami leans back in his chair, making it bounce a little bit. With a slightly breathless sigh leaving him, and his cock hardening even more in his pants–he’s forced to manspread under the table a little more. “She’s a needy lil’ thing, isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Higuruma’s lips quirk up into a sensual smile - as if he was reminiscing on the memories. “Wanting to fuck her professors? Seriously?”
“Believe she’s thought of both of us at the same time?”
“Don’t even say that-” The law professor looks around, even though there was no one else here. Looking back at the man with somewhat pleading eyes, “I have tutoring with her this evening. If I can’t even fucking grade her essay without getting a hard-on then what d’you think will happen if I’m thinking of that—?”
“Oh…” Nanami hums to himself, hands lacing in front of him. The coffee-machine really was broken. “-maybe that won’t be an issue.”
Higuruma glances at him with furrowed brows, “How so?”
“What time is your tutoring with her?”
“You mean…”
The blond man shrugs coyly- “I’m not implying anything…but which one of us two do you think is her favorite?”
“And people think you’re the gentleman of us two.” Higuruma grumbles but ultimately spits out the time. It seems you’d opted for tuition classes with your law professor in the after-hours—when the offices were snug, and the department was empty. And he feels his cock perk up at the fact- how many times has he raced back home to plunge into a cold bath after your tuition classes? How many times has his shower heard your name whispered? “I’m most definitely the favorite, by the way-”
So lost in his thought, Nanami nearly doesn’t catch the sentence. He looks over at Higuruma. “Does she call you ‘sir’, too?”
“She does.”
“Well, then we’ll find out, won’t we?”
.
.
.
The two hottest professors on campus.
Higuruma Hiromi (38) with his sleek-cut suits, his polished shoes, and those sleepy eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of your soul. The depths of your body - exposed underneath him. He was a stern teacher, not afraid to make you do an assignment over and over and over again…(and you gladly would). Higuruma’s justice classes made you…wet you had to admit, hearing him bark out simulations of court cases. Orders. Commands.
You could practically hear a sigh echo out across the room every time he acted out his attorney days.
Every time he banged his gavel down made your knees weak.
It was no wonder that students in the law department tittered n’ scattered any time the ruggedly handsome professor walked past.
On the other hand was your history professor.
Nanami Kento (31) with his beefier build, his strong arms, his gentle eyes—twinkling down kindly upon you every time he corrected a mistake. Which - you have to confess - you’ve made a few more times than you really had to, just to feel his molten gaze upon you again and again. He often caused your heart (and something else entirely) to flutter at the deep musicality of his voice, managing to make even the most boring of history passages something interesting. Something that swept the class up easily.
Nanami was reputed around campus for being a complete gentleman - never looking down upon someone, never letting them walk in after him, never letting them pay him a compliment without receiving a sweet one back.
The dream husband.
The stern and the nice.
Both of them- frat guys hated them.
It hadn’t been intentional to join both their classes- honest!
But after seeing them on your first day, how could you not commit to maintaining a spotless attendance? You had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the class behaved in the same manner for much the same reason - though none took it quite as far as you.
The skirts. The extra credit. The bending.
Speaking honestly, you were a teacher’s pet. Through and through.
And the tightness in their pants whenever you left a class told you- they were the best professors. To you, that is.
Which is why you’d been a little less than happy when Professor Higuruma had told you that someone might be joining your weekly tutoring.
Invigilated tutoring?
What the hell was invigilated tutoring?!
You admit that you’d been forced to hold back a groan of disappointment. Picking such late hours had been a conscious decision—right up there with those tight pencil skirts that you knew your law professor loved but would never admit to.
Professor Nanami was more the type to like free, flirty pleats that barely reached your thigh - and you loved the way his eyes would follow them behind those glasses of his. Even though he pretended they didn’t.
And right now you were wearing a mix of both.
Tight on top, flared at the bottom
Seated opposite his desk - thighs shut, skirt pulled down as low as it would go - more concentrated than you’d ever been during one of these tutoring sessions. It’s been about half an hour since the start of today’s tuition. Higuruma’s office was a cosy space, decked out in the most expensive-looking mahogany banisters, and shelves, and a witness box in the far corner.
It gleamed at the light—down knowingly at you, almost as if waiting for you to make a move.
But how could you? If there was a potential visitor, then you didn’t want to risk Higuruma’s job- as much as you loved teasing your two hot professors, it wouldn’t do to get them fired!
So you kept your hands and your skirts to yourself.
And even Higuruma himself had his eyes raised, possibly wondering why you hadn’t leaned over his desk or lingered a touch at his shoulder for help.
But oh, how you wanted to…
The professor looks down at his watch, “He’s late.”
You’re glancing at the closed door, “Maybe the invigilator isn’t coming?”
“Oh, he will.” Higuruma crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Trust me, he won’t miss this.”
A shiver runs down your spine.
You wondered what made him so sure.
And yet, you edge closer over the desk to him anyways.
It’s about forty-five minutes into your tutoring session when the door you’ve been sneaking glimpses of this entire time- clicks! And a looming figure walks into the room, his figure nearly taking up the whole frame.
Your jaw drops as you realize—
It’s Professor Nanami.
“Ah- Kento.” Higuruma beckons him over warmly- and you’re nearly suffering from whiplash from watching the two interact. These two are close?! Professor Nanami had been completely normal during your last class, if just a little more distracted than usual - and what was this? “We’ve been waiting.”
He looks at you as he says this.
“I had to penalize a student for missing a few assignments.” Nanami says smoothly, before bringing up a chair beside you and taking his seat. His movements were fluid and precise - as if he wasn’t questioning for a single moment why you were here so late, why you were dressed like that for him, and why you were so damn close.
You’d been staring into his handsome face for so long that he clears his throat. “Continue.”
“S-sir?” You’re chirping- and in your peripheral vision, Higuruma shuffles in his chair.
“Continue.” Nanami repeats in a stern tone. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like that—“Just as you are. I would like to take notes for teaching my own classes.”
“You heard what he said.” Higuruma nods- and now you’re looking his way to see the most knowing smile on his face. “Continue, angel.”
Your thighs squeeze at the pet name.
Nanami quirks a blond brow and notes something down.
And so you’re ducking back into your work—
“Your blouse button is undone.”
Slightly gasping, you’re reaching down to fix it-
“No, don’t button it.” He interrupts you with his low tone, gravelly with something you can’t pinpoint. You’re looking up at Nanami to find his gaze unwavering from you already- “I was merely noting it. Nothing to fix.”
“But-”
“You unbutton it for my class, too, don’t you?” He asks, and you’re unsure what to say-
“Answer when your teacher speaks to you.” Higuruma’s humming tone echoes—and from the sound of it, he was thoroughly enjoying this. He cocks his head down at you, “Or haven’t they taught you that yet?”
“Th-they have.” You’re squirming in your seat, a slight heat simmering in your stomach. You turn to Nanami, “And I do.”
“Hm.” With nothing more said- he writes something else down in his notes.
And you think you’re in the clear.
For now.
It’s barely a few sentences later on your work that Nanami speaks up again-
“Your feet are touching his.”
You pull away-
“You’ve been writing the same sentence over and over.”
Your hand pauses-
“Your thighs are parted more so than before.”
Immediately, you’re smacking them back shut again- you hadn’t even realized. And how the hell had Nanami even seen?
And you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice - so unlike everything you know of him - as he continues. “And your bra is peeking out.”
“Never seen one before?” You mutter underneath your breath, just about to fix your collar (that you’d very purposefully left open)—
Before Nanami’s voice cuts through again. “Never seen one of yours in black before, is what.” Even as you’re looking at him in slight sensual shock- he doesn’t look up from his papers. “What happened to the baby pink you show-off in my class?”
And Higuruma merely leans back and smiles. “Black is my favorite color, remember?”
“How could I forget?” The history professor answers.
“Though I myself am curious about this baby pink of yours…”
And you have nothing else to do but gape- they knew.
Oh, how they both knew by now.
And by the looks in their eyes, they’d been dying for this very moment.
To confront how you’d been toying n’ teasing them all semester through now- enough so that they’ve apparently begun trading secrets about their unruly star student. You knew that Higuruma tended to have his ears grow hot and red any time he bumped into you in the hallway, and that Nanami would loosen his tie as if undressing whenever you wore a particularly scandalous thing to class - but you hadn’t known they’d been pushed…to this extent.
And you were glad for it.
So you sigh—slouching back in your chair. “So you both know. What now then? Do I get written up or something?”
But Nanami only looks at you through his glasses. “Sit up straight.”
He’s never uttered a command like that in his entire life during your usual lectures. And when you don’t move - merely looking at the blond man with raised brows - Higuruma pipes up. “You best listen to him now, angel.”
“Oh please.” Fluttering your lashes at them both. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”
Higuruma looks at Nanami.
Nanami calmly puts his notes down on the other’s table, and looks at you.
“Why-” He pushes his glasses up his handsome nosebridge. “-teach you a lesson, of course.”
“Both of you?” You could feel the elated giggles bubbling up in your throat- and you could feel the space between your legs start to grow wetter already. Looking between both of them—“Do it then.”
And then it’s a blur - you don’t know where Higuruma’s lips end and yours begin. He’s reached over the surface of his desk to kiss you like a starved man- and he groooans into that very kiss like you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hand on your cheek.
The tips of his canines start nibblin’ on your lower lip- and you’re kissing him back even deeper. “Shit-” Higuruma’s husky tone scorches across your face, “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do this for so fucking long.”
“Mmm, you kiss like husband material.” You’re giggling into the kiss. Both of your hands end up on his shoulders, and you could feel the shifting of his muscles through his slim suit.
“Shit- and you talk like trouble.” He echoes out in an almost pained tone- like every second that his lips were away from yours ached.
And those plump, pursed lips press against yours once more—so much sweeter than you would have expected this booming lawyer to kiss. He’s using the hand on your cheek to tilt down your chin- “May I?” Before the short nod you give lets him slither his tongue in wetly, lappin’ at your sweetest taste. “Shit, you’re really like sugar on my tongue.”
And you’re whining into the fervent kiss, letting it go on for a few more minutes before you’re breaking away with the most lecherous plop! And a thoroughly flushed professor chasing after your lips drunkenly-
“And what about you…” You’re kissing down Higuruma’s sharp jawline, looking at the other man who’d been sitting quietly this entire time. “-sir? Haven’t you wanted to kiss me even once this semester?”
Nanami shivers but he hides it well. Uncrossing his legs and revealing the most rock-hard, aching bulge between his legs—“Kiss? Perhaps.”
And you’re gulping at the sight.
Higuruma scoffs out a slight burst of laughter. “Perhaps.”
“But I’m a gentleman, my love.” Nanami continues, leaning back in that luxurious armchair. He takes off his coat to reveal a pale blue button-up, and beneath that was revealed the most chiselled body you’ve ever seen. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and beckons towards you. Manspread. Lap so welcoming. “Which means I’ve thought of far, far worse.”
Higuruma - with a final sloppy kiss plastered across your mouth - lets you walk over to Nanami.
Which you do on wobbly legs- plopping down unceremoniously on his lap. More than enough space there for you. He wastes no time bending you into shape in his strong arms, flipping you around to face the other man, and spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open-
Riiiiiip—!
“Whoops.” Nanami’s thoroughly unapologetic tone gruffs against the shell of your ear. Two of his vein-covered forearms were hooked underneath your elbows, and Nanami looks on boredly at the clean split down your skirt—“I always thought you’d look better without these anyway.”
Before he’s spreading your legs even further across his lap. Tearing it even more.
Exposing you for nothing but your tremblin’ legs and those drenched panties. Pretty black in color.
So lacy that it was practically nothing.
Higuruma’s eyes widen, “Dirty girl.”
Nanami breathes, “No, that’s called being a slut.” And shock runs through your body at his words- at Nanami ‘Gentleman’ Kento’s words. Before it’s suddenly overtaken by the sudden feeling of him smearin’ aside your panties and stuffin’ his fingers inside.
Those thick crowns dooooown to the golden ring on his middle finger.
They were long and thick. Swirling and swirling the tip of his digit right ‘round your clit- and when you’re shuddering and unable to take it any longer—he pulls away and licks off that excess slick with a slurp!
Humming to himself as though it was the greatest delicacy in the world. “One thing you should know about me, darling, is that just because I’m gentleman-” And you’d been so caught up in his ragged tone, you didn’t even realize that he’d snaked his hand back down between your legs. “-doesn’t mean that I’m not depraved.”
And he’s ending off the sentence not with a full stop- no, but with a sudden shove of his fingertips between your folds. So swollen n’ sweet with slick.
You buck and he lurches his hand out to slap you on top of your pussylips.
“Down, darling.”
“Please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for.
But Nanami’s mouth waters already at the sound of it, and he’s keeping it at bay by pushing n’ pulling on the first ring of muscle at your cunt. “I said down.”
Head throwing back against his collarbone. “Oh.”
Fucking you with just the first inches of his fingers- “It doesn’t mean that m’not desperate.” Continuing as though your eyes weren’t bulging, as though your legs weren’t shaking, as though you weren’t arching off of his muscular chest. “It doesn’t mean that m’not ready to debase this pussy like she deserves.”
“Y-you mean—” You’re hiccuping, eyes starting to water at the sheer raw stretch. It was the type that left your pussy burning in the most delicious way - the feeling of having Nanami Kento’s scourin’ fingertips eager to enter your cunt. “-that whole gentleman thing was just a lie?”
“It’s not.” He responds. Final. His blond strands fall over his forehead as he keeps his eyes locked on your glistening hole, scissoring his fingers at that entrance n’ spreading you even wider. “I’m nice…”
Adding in a third finger before you’re even registering his second.
“-to everyone but this slutty pussy, that is.”
“Sh-shit—” Mewling at the top of your lungs, you’re clawing down Nanami’s strong forearms. They were the perfect thing to hold onto- just about the only thing you could hold onto as he utterly ruined your pussy with short, jerking thrusts.
Bulging the sides of your velvety walls open with his globular tips.
Cold metal ring shocking you.
So thick that he manages to probe into a few of your sensitive spots without even trying. Dragging his flexible fingers across every inch of you.
Scissoring and opening up and scissoring—deep.
Tears track down your cheeks at the sheer stimulation.
“Go easy on her, Kento.” Higuruma can’t help but groan at the sight of your pretty crying face. And soon enough, you’re hearing the metallic clinking of a belt buckle- “Don’t want to break our star student, now, do we?”
Nanami purrs against your temple. “Mmm, I don’t mind.”
“Just remember that she’s tutoring with me.”
The sound of Higuruma’s belt hitting the polished wooden floorboards is enough to make your eyes startle open- and oh, how you’re so glad it did.
Because then you’re greeted with the sight before you: of Higuruma Hiromi in utter ecstasy. All because of you.
He’d taken your seat from prior, chair angled perfectly to face the show taking place in front of him.
Where Nanami had your legs spread aaaaaall the way as far as they would go - until Nanami could hear your joints threatening to pop - and facing the dark-haired man. His dark eyes glinted as they stared down at your glistening hole, swallowing Nanami’s rams easily.
Slurps n’ squelches emanating like music.
Cunt dripping everywhere over the history teacher’s tight trousers. And the larger that puddle you were forming seemed to grow, the harder Nanami’s hammerin’ pace seemed to become.
You could barely keep your eyes open long enough to see Higuruma tug down his black pants- that throbbing erection of his making an appearance. He wraps his hands around his thickened base and starts tugging, soft grunts leaving his mouth at the rapid pull-pull-pull of his cock. “Shit, she’s so fucking wet- be a little nicer with that pussy o’ hers, would you?”
“Hmmm…I don’t think she deserves it.” And with that said, Nanami plants yet another sodden spank on top of your cunt. Ring grazing your front- “She hasn’t learned her lesson yet, has she?”
That stinging sensation zaps throughout your entire body and makes you buck. “I-I have—”
Before yet another thwack! of Nanami’s calloused fingertips follow.
Harder, this time.
“I was talking to this pussy, actually.”
And he doesn’t even wait for the primal sting to pass by before openin’ your cunt up and thrusting his fingers inside again. In and out.
Push after push into your gooey depths.
You’re so sensitive n’ wet by this point that even the slightest movements have you emanating out the loudest sounds. Squelches upon squelches—every time he’s hitting a spot deep inside your hole. “Mhmm…mmmhm.” You could feel Nanami’s head slightly nodding above your own, as if locked deeply in a conversation with your pussy’s sounds. Just one whine of yours and he’s spankin’ on you once more- “Wait your turn, my love. She’s talking t’me.”
And Higuruma- ah, Higuruma has the audacity to snicker at the action. “Now that’s just bullying, Kento.”
“Is it?” He’s slappin’ down on your pussylips once more. Listening for the sound, “She says it isn’t so.”
You’re sending a narrowed glare his way that makes the law professor roll his eyes fondly.
“Oh, alright alright-” And he half-heartedly waves off at his colleague. “Be a little nicer to my dear student, won’t you?”
“Spoiled brat.” Yet another spank. Nanami sinks his canines into the shell of your ear, and he’s tuggin’ and teasing—he’s spreading his legs even further and settling you down. With your back against his rippling chest, he pushes and pushes his greedy fingers inside your pussy. “And why do you think you- hah, deserve that, huh? Haven’t you been fucking torturing us all semester long now?”
Higuruma groans. “Can’t deny that, angel.” His hands fly even faster up and down his cock- ravaged and reddened with need.
“Mhmmmm.” The blond-haired man agrees, “Haven’t you been wearing those slutty skirts expecting to get fucked in them? Haven’t you- fuck, haven’t you been wearing that damn lingerie hoping we’d take a peak? Aren’t I right?”
He waits for your pussy to answer first- and then you’re answering. “I-I mean-” Attempting to.
“Haven’t you been bendin’ over and shit just because you wanted to show up in our wildest dreams? To consume our thoughts and make our cocks twitch?”
“Well-”
“And we did.” Higuruma pipes up next. He was so needy that he was practically bucking off of his chair, making it creak with movement. Short, jerky thrusts.
“Oh, yes we did.” Nanami continues. He leans down to your ear, as if exposing a secret- “I’d look forward to our classes everyday, my love. I’d have to fuck my fist raw before class- just so I wouldn’t fuck you senseless in front of everyone like how you were begging me to.”
Higuruma moans as he thumbs down the line of his flared tip - that pinkish, slippery line. He twitches as though he’s near to cumming already. “Me- me, too…”
“And you still expect me to be a gentleman?”
You’re restless, opening your mouth to defend yourself and—
Nanami only leans down and spits a glittery wad of spit between your pursed lips. “Don’t talk when the teacher’s talking, darling.”
And your ears pop with pressure-
He’s hittin’ the plushness of his palm against your pussy with a loud smack! Smearing the curves n’ divots of his fingers dooooooown and up your walls, down and up.
His crown fingertips reach for your deepest innards- and you swear you can feel him stroking your very cervix. Runnin’ his frigid ring across your walls.
Drawing a few lines and marking his placement right back there, before he tunnels his digits at a frenzied pace - fingers almost nothing but a pale blur between your legs. His speed is so feverish that it leaves your sheen tricklin’ all down your thighs.
Trickling and trickling and—
And then you feel Nanami hook his fingers against your g-spot.
The pleasure shoots up your body like a lightning strike, “O-oh my god—right there, Kento.”
“Kento? Who’s Kento?” Nanami doesn’t even falter his fingering to answer, cooing in that tone that you’d almost mistake for something sweet. “I think you meant sir-”
“S—fuck.”
“Say it.” He huffs against the side of your face. Teeth almost out for blood- “Say it. Call me ‘sir’ or you don’t get to cum.”
“I—”
“Say it.” Higuruma, to your surprise, echoes from his seat. Where he had his gaze burning into your spread-open pussy n’ his mouth drooling at the vision of you—“Say it, angel. I need to see that pretty pussy cum.” Hands rubbing faster and faster-
“She deserves to cum, mhm.” Nanami nods. “But do you, huh?”
“I-I do.” You’re nodding up at your desperate professors. One just barely in your line of vision- but his fingers were working up such a storm. His slightly-tanned arms pinning you down, working your pussy open, hitting that target of your g-spot like a cute button. Again and again—
Blond hair ruffled. Glasses slipping down his sweaty nosebridge.
And then the other one that was just creamin’ his precum down his hands. With his hands on his swollen erection - one of them creating a tunnel for him to fuck his fist, the other flattening over his dribblin’ divot to stop from cumming already.
Sleepy eyes half-lidded. His pale thighs shivering as they bucked n’ rutted.
And the vision itself is enough to make you cum- but then again it just felt so good on Nanami’s hands, and underneath Higuruma’s gaze. So you can’t help but let your lips wobble open—“P-please let me cum-” Stars bursting behind your vision once Nanami presses down on your clit as well. “-sirs.”
The two older men look at each other.
“Sirs?” Higuruma asks, voice breathless with ecstasy.
“She just begged for both of us.” Nanami grumbles out - though not quite unhappily. It made his cock twitch deep in his pants to have you whimperin’ like this, and he continues. “Alright then, you slutty pussy.”
And it takes only a few more strokes - a few more direct thrashes along your g-spot - for you to hurtle straight into your high.
It’s so strong that you’re seeing white behind your eyelids—and your mouth blabbers out an unintelligible combination of both professors’ names. Toes curling. Sweat beading down your temple.
Nanami holds you down as you’re thrown through wave upon wave of your orgasm, your hips bucking up and down desperately. Riding throughout your bliss- and if that wasn’t already enough, he counts underneath his breath to measure how long it takes between your peaks of euphoria. Before hittin’ away at your g-spot just in time with each one.
The sensations that take you over are just incredible.
And your head falls back limply against Nanami’s shoulder.
Shivering. Almost as if you were in heat- and your pretty pussy gushes out honeyed slick as though to give credit to that statement.
Lavishing Nanami’s open thighs with all your sap—Higuruma eyes the mess and gulps. “Kento, give me a taste of that.”
Nanami scoffs. “In due time.”
“Kento, I need her pussy on my face now.”
Slowly but surely, you’re fluttering your eyes open at the feeling of being shuffled around - only seeing the beautiful, brown eyes of Higuruma Hiromi staring down at you. When did he get so close?
“Hiromi?” You’re blubbering out stupidly, still suffering from the aftershocks of your previous high. Those zapping bursts of electricity made your thighs twitch sensitively- “I mean- sir?”
Higuruma shivers, “You trained her well, Kento.”
“Mhmmm—” Nanami noses down the column of your throat proudly.
“Maybe now it’s time for a reward then, huh?”
You’re perking up. “Yes, please.”
Nanami snickers. “You spoil her.”
And in almost no time, you’re finding yourself handed off to the law professor - Nanami stands up and gets off of the armchair. While Higuruma takes his place-
At least, that’s what you think is going to happen.
But what ends up happening instead is that Higuruma seats you down on the chair, letting your barely-clothed pussy rub up against the cushion. Something in his eyes gleams at the way you’re squirming, and he speaks to you in a gentle tone. “Can you turn around and hold the headrest f’me, angel? Be a good girl f’me?”
“A-alright?” Confused, you’re just doing what he says. He meant that you had to turn and climb your knees onto the seat, ass turned towards the professors, back slightly arched.
“Mmm, good.” Higuruma admires the view. “Arch that back just a little more f’me now, alright?”
“Like this?”
And still not sure what he was about to do, you can only follow his commands. It almost feels like a doggy position- and you hold onto the wooden headrest for dear life.
“Mhmmm.”
And Nanami’s the first to mutter to himself, “Don’t tell me you’re…” He takes in the sight of you - with your front resting against the backrest of the chair. You have your spine bent, your ass cheeks displayed for them, your cunt not quite on the seat—“Hiromi, you dirty dog.”
“Couldn’t help myself.” Steadily, Higuruma’s kneeling on the floor.
There’s no warning before he then shoves his face nose-deep into your cunt- straight from behind.
Higuruma grabs onto either side of your ass cheeks, his prominent nose curvin’ up the slit of your pussy. He’s using his grip on you to draaaag you further down onto his face—“Mhmmm—spread those legs.”
He’s muttering.
He’s spitting- stern lips pursing and letting out a rivulet of saliva.
It strikes vertically down your cunt before Higuruma’s running his fat tongue over it. Smearing around the mess he’s made- but most importantly, smearing around the mess that you’ve made.
You’re whining as Higuruma’s textured tastebuds seem to take over your pussy. All the way from the plumpness of your folds, and then dipping between them to tease your hole- you’re still so sensitive from the massage that Nanami’s fingers had simmered into you. And you’re trembling your thighs further open, “P-please- fuck-”
“I’m a lawyer so I’m really good with my tongue, y’know?” Higuruma pants out, scorching hot against your needy pussy. “But that means my fees are high, too-”
“A-and what are your fees?” You’re sobbing out.
“Mmmm…” He takes the time to think—and by that, you mean that he rovers his mouth over where your clit was throb-throb-throbbing. The law professor takes his sweet time spreadin’ open your pussylips with his tongue, before letting his tongue flop out n’ draaaaaag down your clit-
And his next words are so lecherously muffled. “Ride my nose raw, sugar.”
You gasp.
In the background, you can hear a gruff bout of laughter that notably doesn’t belong to Higuruma.
You grip onto the headrest of the chair harder than ever- because in a split-second, Higuruma’s thumbin’ your folds open and stuffing your hole all full of his tongue.
So loooong and slick- curving right against the roof of your pussy. It makes you jolt to feel his honed, flexible tip zig-zagging its way down your channel—mazing and mazing inside that it’s as though his wet muscle was never-ending.
Higuruma Hiromi was damn ravenous.
He feels your knees start to slip away from him- and he claws his fingers deep into the globes of your ass cheeks to pull you back. Uncaring if you’re whining for mercy- “A-aren’t you supposed to be the nice one, sir?”
“Spoiled.” Nanami’s voice echoes from the distance.
“Mmm- keep calling me that, yeah?” Groans wrenching from the back of his throat at the mere sound of that title being said in your pretty voice. How nice it was to make you beg. “And no—”
“No?”
“I am being nice by letting you ride my nose, aren’t I?” His head jerks just a little upwards to look at you- and Higuruma can just barely make out the shock on your face. “I know how much you’ve wanted to ride it-”
“Hiromi-”
“Ever since ya fuckin’ met me, huh?” His rough tone vibrates through every vessel of your body- pushed even further by the constant swabbin’ he was doing inside. Swab after swab. “Ever since ya first saw me- don’t think I didn’t see how you stared at me.”
You’re clawing further up the headrest. “B-but how did you know-”
“Oh, angel…” Higuruma almost chuckles. Something dark and depraved- “If I was wrong then you wouldn’t be so fucking wet- I can barely breathe.”
Both of his roughened palms plaster around your thighs. Draaaagging you bodily - as though you were nothing against him - to glue your pussylips to his own lips.
He makes out with your pussy like a man parched.
“And I don’t need to.”
Your vision blurs with pleasure as Higuruma spreads your folds perfectly apart- and starts rammin’ his tongue into you wildly. Thick and thirsty for the taste of your sweet, sweet juices—any time that even a mere droplet of your sap starts to drip down your thighs- you can best believe that Higuruma was whipping his head down to slurp it up. “Harder.”
“I-I am-”
“Faster.”
“Fuck-”
“Raw, I said raw.”
Practically addicted to it.
He’s pussydrunk in with just a few sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. And you yourself can feel your pupils start to circle inside the whites of your eyes.
Spreading yourself even further on the chair to meet his utterly ravenous mouth-
“Didn’t forget about me now, did you?”
Nanami Kento sounds the closest he’s been since he had you on his fingers- which could feel like minutes, hours, days ago by now. It takes you significant effort to blink away the clingy film of tears on your eyes, and you’re opening them to find that he was actually…standing right in front of you.
Nanami had rounded the side of the armchair - and if you looked up, there his handsome face was. So now you have your law professor at your behind, and your history professor’s crotch in front of your face. His pants much too tight.
His cock thick and throbbing underneath there.
Clasping onto the headrest of the chair, if you raised your head juuuuust a little then you’d be able to mouth over the twitching erection he hid underneath there. “K-Kento?”
Nanami looks down at you through his gold-rimmed glasses. Grinning at your teary expression, “Only a few minutes with your nice teacher n’ you’ve already forgotten your manners, my love?” His hand falls to his formal pants, “Guess we have to go back to lesson one.”
“O-oh…”
Nanami had already unbuckled his belt and lets it drop to the floor—clink! Followed right along with the popping of his buttons, it doesn’t take too long before you’re face-to-face with his rock-hard bulge. Achingly hard. Almost painfully hard.
Barely held together by his boxers, he seeps out such volumes of precum that it creates a dark patch on the silken fabric. It glistens just a bit under the dim lighting of the office- something that makes you gulp.
And something that makes Higuruma nudge his tongue even deeper inside of you- shit, you could feel yourself growing more aroused. And he could taste it.
“Did you know she gets sweeter n’ sweeter the wetter she gets?” Higuruma slurs from in-between your legs, latching onto your clit with a loud squelch! “And you won’t believe it…but right now she tastes like the tastiest strawberry candy- heh.”
“Is that so?” Nanami’s nose crinkles as he looks down at you. He’s admiring that drunken expression on your face for a little bit, before reaching his right hand down and clasping at the back of your head. “Filthy girl.”
You shiver. “C-can’t help it-”
“Ah ah—not another word out of you.” The blond-haired man continues. His grip tightens- “I expect you not to speak when your professor is speaking-”
Cocking his head just a little, Nanami takes a glance at the famished way that Higuruma was kissin’ between your legs. Gasping. Gulping.
He had his mouth gaped wide open and was dragging it across every inch of your pussy that he could reach- sticking that long tongue of his between your pussylips. You’re almost sandwiching his tastebuds for a bit before he manages to flicker his tastebuds inside again—then in and out, in and out, in and out.
Faster than before.
Reeling back out to slap! your pussy with the flat surface of his tongue.
Then probin’ back in again.
Higuruma’s just being so loud-
“-and when this pussy is speaking.” The rest of the history professor’s sentence makes you gasp - brain so muddled that you’d almost forgotten what he was saying. Almost forgotten that he has a firm grip on your sweaty scalp—one that he’d now turned into two hands upon your sweaty scalp.
Tugging your head forwards as if you were nothing but a ragdoll to smush your face against his boiling hot erection.
Your jaw falls open and soon enough, you’re salivating all over his clothed cock.
Tongue lavishing across the cotton of his boxers- feeling every ridge n’ vein along his shaft.
He groans at the feeling of your heated mouth, and his fingers dig into your scalp even deeper. Tugging. Needing. One set of your fingers reach upwards to fumble its hem, and you take Nanami’s round, reddened tip into his mouth.
Moaning at the large size of him.
Moaning at the salty taste that floods your mouth-
“Hey now…” Higuruma’s choked-up tone echoes from behind. You’re feeling his tender fingers start to pull your hips back onto his face, “-don’t steal my star student away.”
“Have you forgotten that she’s my star student, too?”
“Her pussy’s on my mouth right now- so who’s in charge?”
“Well, let’s ask how she feels about it…” Nanami’s voice trails off—and only too late are you realizing that he isn’t talking about your pussy this time. He’s talking about you- waiting for your answer.
And you’re attempting to muffle out something, letting the globular edge of his cock swirl around your mouth a few times. Around and around. Just the crown of his mushroom tip prods into your every orifice inside- you’re opening your mouth to answer when Nanami jerks his hips forwards.
Fucking his cock deeeeep into your maw.
And with it, whatever words were in your throat, too.
“I dunno about that-” Nanami hums down at the chokes n’ strangled gasps you’re letting out, just the barest noises of whatever was able to filter past his swollen shaft. “-but it sounded like a ‘you, sir’ to me.”
“Didn’t know you were that depraved.” Higuruma spits out. Dark eyes narrowed as he’s grinding you back to him n’ lapping away at your oversensitive pussylips.
“I’m a gentleman, what can I say?” The other professor responds.
As the slurps n’ sucking continues, Nanami looks at you through half-lidded eyes. He admires the way your mouth leaves a glittering glaze of spit from the tip of his cock and doooown to about halfway down his shaft—so cute how you couldn’t fit it all. “And as Head of your pussy-” Fuck, when did he even assign himself that? Is he pussydrunk already? “-I say you can’t cum until you’re fitting my cock aaaaaall the way…”
The history professor’s left hand lifts off of your scalp. Then dragging down the front of your throat - down, down, down.
“-here.”
He points to a spot way past the back of your throat.
He fucks your mouth like he’s agonized every second he isn’t reaching for it.
Higuruma growls.
And thereafter it’s almost like a tug-of-war - on one end you’re being hauled forwards by Nanami’s grip on the back of your head. His hands strong and unwavering, no matter much you’re gasping for air- fuck, the ever-gentlemanly Nanami Kento was gone for the feeling of your mouth tightening around his hot cock.
Rutting those toned hips up into your velvety cavern like an animal-
“Just a little more.” That left hand of his wraps around your throat now, his thumb markin’ at the spots where he can feel his rounded tip probing inside. “Just a liiiiittle more now- about four inches? Heh.”
“Mmm—” Your eyes go wide in surprise.
And Nanami responds by pushing his hips even further, nearing the tip of your nose to those curls of blond at his base. “C’mon, c’mon.”
And on the other end, Higuruma had his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. Into the flesh of your ass. His tongue fishing around your insides before he pulls out and starts nibblin’ on your damn clit—
He’s thirsty. Depraved.
“Noooo, angel.” He’s gluing his chin to the front of your pussylips. Head moving back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as the law professor lashes his tongue across. “Come back to me-”
“Mmm—” You’re being pulled off of Nanami Kento’s reddened, dribblin’ cock with a plop! Just from the sheer pressure of Higuruma manhandling your body from the other side - dragging you all down his handsome face. “Fuh-fuck-!”
“Where’d you think you’re going?” Only for Nanami to barely let you breathe for a split-second before he’s pulling your mouth down his shaft again.
Shovelling a gooooood few inches of his vein-covered cock inside- he marks that spot out on your throat. Even deeper than the last time you had him- “Mmm, not bad. Just a few inches- mmm, more.”
“Ride my nose.” Higuruma begs from the other end. Breath breezing down your gooey core, it makes your thighs shiver- “Ride my nose, I don’t care. Ride my nose, ride my nose—”
And you’re just so overstimulated from all ends.
From the draaagging of Nanami’s thumb down the front of your neck, from the sensual touch of Higuruma’s nose being sandwiched between your pussylips, from the pleasure of them both playing with your body. It’s as if you’re their favorite toy to taste, to fuck - to worship because of the way they were being driven to absolute madness by those carnal sensations.
You can only jolt your body back and forth.
Down Nanami’s cock. Up Higuruma’s ready face.
Riding his nose just like you wanted- “S-so—” Somehow barely managing to gurgle out past the pulsating tip of his cock, “So close-”
“Close?” Higuruma perks up. “Fuh-fuck- I have you, angel.”
“Remember- no cumming until you take it here.” Nanami presses his thumb somewhere near where your voicebox was bulging with the intrusion of his inches. “You’re not there yet, darling…”
“But-”
“Please let her cum.” But to your surprise, it’s your law professor who is pleading your face.
Nanami raises a blond brow, “Oh?”
“Let her-” He slurps away on your swollen nub- sensitive and throbbing. He’s hollowing his cheeks out to get that suctioning sensation, already making your knees feel weak with pleasure. “Need her to- fuck, want her to cum on my tongue. Let her cum already.”
Nanami thrusts even deeper, “Hmm…I dunno.”
“I’m the one asking you.” Higuruma grumbles. “Let her cum-”
“Mmmpf- please.” And your brows furrow as the pit of bliss in your stomach grows stronger.
“Let her-” The law professor continues, “I’m begging you- fuck, she’s becoming so sweet. Let her cum-”
Pale brows furrowing. Sweat lines down his temple- “I don’t…just fit-” And he’s scrapin’ his bulbous tip down the roof of your cunt—all the way along to the back of your throat and targeting even further. “If she takes it until-”
Higuruma’s nose helping your grinds and bounces. “Just let her cum-”
“If she takes it-”
“Fucking let her-”
“G-gonna—” It’s the last thing you’re managing to get out before a sudden slam! of Nanami’s hips shut you up- and before you know it, you’re feeling the carnal scratch of his pubic hair. The feeling of his tawny curls at your skin, the intrusion of his throbbing shaft all the way down your throat.
And his thumb tapping where he’d marked a treasure spot - a spot he was supposed to meet. Nanami doesn’t have to say a single thing for Higuruma to bite his sharp canines down on your clit.
And before you know it, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night.
Not just your second, but your third, perhaps even your fourth.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, and your moans are nothing but soft crackles at the back of your throat. Higuruma draaaaags you all throughout those waves of bliss, elongating them with the thorough lavishing of his tongue.
Probin’ into every sweet spot.
Inside and out.
He digs his fingers into your thighs, now accomplishing his dream of having you ride his nose. Because you’re being made to arch your back n’ bounce your hips lecherously up and across.
Hittin’ those best angles- the peaks of your high absolutely burst through you.
And Nanami? Your history professor was enjoying the view - cocking his head to the side and smiling as you shatter on Higuruma’s face. He watches about half your orgasm bate, before starting to fuck his swollen cock back in and out of you. Thrusting.
“Now now—” Nanami murmurs. “You should be thankful my rubric’s so generous this time.”
You can only look up at him with your teary eyes.
That sight is enough for him to bite down on his lower lip n’ stop himself from cumming. No, he had something more important in his mind…
“Thirty seconds to finish up.” He says meanly. “Before I either drag your pussy off of his face or you have to drag yourself off, m’kay?”
“Tch- stingy.” Higuruma keeps lappin’ at you even after your high has passed.
And once that thirty seconds of more bliss have passed - just like Nanami said - he grips both hands ‘round the back of your scalp and wrenches you off of his cock. Off of Higuruma’s mouth. He’s bending down to spit straight between your lips—
“Now, I’m gonna be nice this one time because you took all of me. Understood?” The history professor states, so firm. “Nod if you understand, my love.”
You nod.
“Good.” He then kisses your lips- tasting you, tasting himself. “Now…do you want it from the back or face-to-face? Because m’fucking you filthy either way.”
“From- from the back.” You pant out.
And Nanami gives a single, stern nod before he lets you go. “Brace yourself.”
You’re collapsing back into the chair—sitting your ass down on it this time. Before the law professor suddenly has you in his arms - he supports you in getting off of the armchair and standing up. Now in the middle of his office, you’re stumbling onto your wobbly feet.
Your arms loop around Higuruma’s neck. “Hiromi…”
“Mmm, I love it when you call me that.” Higuruma kisses you.
“How unruly.” Both of you snap your heads at the sound of buttons popping- only to find that Nanami was taking off his button-up. And you were right- fuck, you were so right. He was so thoroughly chiselled underneath, almost Herculean in nature.
With the most naturally defined ridges n’ curves of his muscles—his firm pectorals, his washboard abs, his meaty thighs that make an appearance.
Nanami sheds of all his clothes before he stares down the two of you- “Addressing your professor by name? Clearly going against objectives to get ready? Making me jealous? What an undisciplined class, no need to be standing around.” He looks at you, “I’ll be fucking you until you can’t stand, anyway.”
A shiver runs down your spine—“Oh.”
“Now, darling.”
Higuruma lets you waddle away to Nanami- who merely swivels you around and bends you over the edge of his colleague’s desk. Papers and ink flying everywhere across the office as he does.
Folding you forwards until your head hits the table. Kneeing your legs apart.
It’s hitting you like a truck - your history professor is about to fuck you against your law professor’s desk.
“Stay still.” He gravels in your ear.
Nanami’s barely letting you take a breath before rubbin’ his bulbous tip down your dripping wet slit from behind. Hand gripping his thick hilt—up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Getting his inches coated in a glaze of your sap, Nanami hums at the feeling of you attempting to contract around him.
“This naughty girl’s reeeeal needy for me, huh?” Scorching breath heating up your skin, he kisses down your arched spine. “She says she can take all of me- can you?”
“Y-yes—” You’re sobbing into the polished mahogany. Bucking your hips up, “I want it, sir.”
You’re jolting as his puckered, pinkish tip smooches at your wet entrance- he’s just so thick that he can plug your hole up easily. Nanami’s tip throbs against your hole, and he reaches a right hand down to feel your pretty stomach - to feel where he’s going to be hittin’ with his hungry cock.
He breathes out airily—“You want it?”
“Yes-”
“Say please.”
“Please-”
“Hmmm?”
“Please, sir.”
Nanami lurches his hips back, back, backwards- “As you wish then, teacher’s pet.”
And then you’re being stuffed with an inch or two of him.
And by stuffed—you were seriously stuffed.
Thick and thorough. Almost too big to even fit in - Nanami fills out the orifice of your cunt without even trying. His ruby-red tip just manages to squeeze between your pussylips, before the first ring of muscle at your entrance makes him falter.
And he’s gritting his teeth at the sheer tightness, voice coming out as nothing but a hiss. “Fuck- didn’t you say that you can take it?” He’s pressing his left hand down at the base of your spine, leaning his weight in to keep you still. “Come back, my love- class isn’t over yet.”
You hadn’t even realized you’d been clawing at the desk until now. “S-sir—”
Just that is enough to make Nanami’s ravaged tip twitch inside of you- spurting out a few more dollops of pre. “Yes, darling?”
“I d-don’t—” Fuck- you swear you could feel him grow even harder inside of you at the sight of your teary expression. Staring at your history professor over your shoulder, “I don’t know if it even can fit.”
“Awww, my poor baby.” And you should know better than to let Nanami Kento hush your cries, you should know better than to let him lull you.
But you can’t help but get pulled into his big, strong arms anyway.
“My poor, poor baby.” And from one corner of the room, you could hear Higuruma’s distant laugh. Although you don’t have the time to wonder what it means, because Nanami’s continuing- “None of those boys ever taught you how to take a real cock, hm?”
And you can only nod.
“None of those boys have ever fucked you right, hm?”
Nodding once more.
“Don’t you worry, darling. If you can’t take this one…”
He presses a chaste peck against your hairline. Letting his soft breath waft over the crown of your head, and his chest ripple with his words, soft.
“-m’gonna make it fit.”
And that’s the last thing you’re hearing before Nanami’s rammin’ his swollen, aching cock into you like an animal- his furious cockhead burrowing in deep.
He manages to shovel just a few more inches inside, before the snugness of your channel acts up once more. Leaving him barely even able to reel his hips backwards—just that much of a tight fit that’s making his eyes roll to the back of his skull.
He shakes.
His groan cracks at the back of his throat. “O-oh.” Both of Nanami’s hands fly to the sides of your hips, and his fingers fucking shake where he holds you. “Oh, yeah.”
“Shit-” You’re flinching at the scalding sensation of his breath. Gusting.
And even that mere shiver- Nanami catches onto it. And it’s only making him clasp your body even tighter, pulling you into him—“You’re really not getting away until we make it fit, my love. Good luck.”
No matter how much his ravenous hips are rutting n’ bucking and trying oh-so-desperately to hammer even more of his inches inside- he can only fuck you in short, needy half-thrusts. The rest of him left to throb wildly behind you, he keeps on stretching and stretching your insides just to fit inside.
Each one of his bucks so desperate. So greedy.
The pointed tip of Nanami’s cockhead prods away at your innards as though he’s trying to claim every single ounce of space inside you-
“Have you forgotten that this is a joint class, Kento?”
Higuruma’s voice is enough to send pulses of adrenaline flowing through your body - and you’re just managing to look around Nanami’s toned frame. The law professor stands behind the two of you with his arms crossed, clothes mostly on except for his trousers being tugged down.
He held his blushin’ cock in one hand, pumping furiously at the sight of his star student.
Nanami himself sighs—though he doesn’t stop his sloppy scouring of your innards for a single second. He looks straight at the other man as he asks- “Oh yes…would you like her now or after me, Hiromi?”
“Now.” Higuruma narrows his heady eyes at the two of you. And the blond-haired man slightly growls at his answer, seemingly grappling with the thought of leaving your pretty pussy right about now- “But don’t pull out.”
You feel like you’re experiencing whiplash. “What?”
Nanami only raises a sharp brow.
And Higuruma himself can’t help but crack a sleazy smirk-
Before you know it, he’s rounding the two of you. Coat off. White button-up flapping open.
He tugs on the smooth, black tie that was hanging haphazardly from his neck- and gestures something indiscernible at the other man.
Though, clearly both professors understood.
Because one second you’re slouched on top of Higuruma’s desk, droolin’ stupidly over some important documents as Nanami Kento pounds you into oblivion - and in the next second, he’s lifting you off of it.
Cleanly off the desk.
One hand wrapped around your waist, the other putting you in a headlock.
He pulls you up as though you’re nothing- and you’re ogling the way his biceps bulge around your throat. Feeling the cushy firmness of his strength—“W-what are you-”
“D’you know what a standing full nelson is?” Higuruma asks. And for a second you think he’s asking you - maybe this was some strange sort of quiz - but then Nanami nods.
“Thought that only happens in fiction? Don’t tell me you’re a secret freak, Hiromi?” He scoffs, though he pulls out either way.
“And look who’s talking…” Then Higuruma looks at you and taps his shoulders. “Hold on, angel, he’s going to lift you.”
“Shit…”
As expected, you’re holding onto Higuruma’s broad shoulders for leverage- whilst Nanami bends and loops his hands around your legs. His strong forearms where your knees were.
Scooping you up into his arms.
Holding them up.
Holding you up.
Hoverin’ well over six feet in the air.
Yelping, you’re digging your nails into the law professor’s shoulders - but if it hurt, then he doesn’t’ react to the pain. Honestly, you don’t even think he could feel it right now—because Higuruma was holding out his tie.
Measuring it against your face-
Tying it around your face like a blindfold.
He knots it at the back of your head, and suddenly the room is curtained in nothing but pure black. You could only hear the gruffness of both men’s chuckles, and Higuruma asking. “Everything alright, angel?”
“Of course, it is.” Nanami mutters- almost to himself. Though he does stretch your legs a little wider, presumably to show to the other man—“Look how fucking drenched she is.”
“Good girl.”
“Naughty, you mean.”
“I must beg to differ.”
And you’re arching against Nanami’s toned front, the plushness of his abs digging against your back. It was the most sensual massage you’ve felt in your entire life- “Please- ngh, what’s with the blindfold?”
“Oh, that…” Higuruma starts. “Guess.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
Brains wracking- “You aren’t going to leave me hanging, are you?”
“No.”
“Is this a roleplay?”
“No.”
“A kink thing?”
“Well…”
“A BDSM thing?”
“Guess.”
You’re feeling helplessness wash over you—“B-but, I already did-”
“No, my love.” Nanami’s the one to speak up this time. He leans down so that he’s pressing an innocent kiss to the edge of your hairline, “We’re going to make this slutty pussy guess which one of us she’s being fucked by.”
Your jaw drops.
And your cunt grows even wetter.
An occasion that the two professors are watching with awe-
Higuruma in particular finds himself breathing out—“And your time starts…now.”
And then you’re hearing the shuffling of his trousers- right before a sudden proddin’ intrusion starts up at your entrance. It was hot and throbbing—so needy that your teeth are set on edge by the sheer volume of precum that he was emptying out.
You’re feeling his thick tip start to eeeease in- squeezing in past the tightness of your channel for a bit before pulling back and fucking you ruthlessly in semi-thrusts.
“H-Hiromi?” You guess. Surely, with him being the one that was removing his trousers it must be…
“Wrong.” Nanami grins.
And then you’re feeling his cock give you a few vicious pumps before he’s pulling away - leaving you all empty and yearning for more. Your glistening hole clenches a few times around nothing, before a sudden globular tip starts kissin’ your entrance once more.
You’re bucking back in Nanami’s arms in an attempt to figure out just who it might be- but the history professor holds onto you firmly. Not a single inch.
Not a single inch less.
Whoever was fucking you takes no more time before swabbin’ his swollen erection inside once more- biting back a groooan at the feeling of your tightening walls.
It’s the same short, jerky thrusts from before just to fit in.
“Sir?” You’re gasping out. But surely, it can’t be twice in a row…“No wait- is it Hiromi this time?”
The cadence of his hips stops abruptly. “Can’t get enough of the law, can you?”
Nanami.
And you don’t know whether it’s the fact that you’re just feeling your brain melt at the sheer stimulation between your legs, you don’t know whether it’s the fact that both handsome men had you sandwiched between their muscular bodies—it was just driving you wild. Making you stupid.
A line of drool slicks down the side of your mouth, and Nanami doesn’t hesitate before leaning in and lickin’ it off. “I should punish you for this.”
“I-I—oh, fuck.” Whatever words were on the tip of your tongue get swallowed up by the feeling of yet another round, ruddied cockhead pushing inwards. Pulsing. Prying apart your walls. And you’re noticing that this one is slightly slimmer than the last, more pointed, more honed, more of its curvaceous tip that tilts to the left.
It makes you shiver at the feeling of his bawling divot dragging across your walls so perfectly. “Is this- sir-”
“Try again, angel.”
It was a struggle to piece your thoughts together, and Higuruma’s voice is the only thing that makes you realize-
“Hiromi.”
“Mhmmm—” Before you know it, the other man has one hand dipping between your jittery legs. His fingers easily locate your clit to tug n’ pry like the cutest gummy - how sweet. And he’s timing it to the constant probes of his looooong, smooth cock. “Good girl. A++ for that.”
“You’re quite the generous grader.” Nanami scoffs. “I would have given that a B.”
“What can I say? I do have a soft spot for her…” Higuruma’s cock was slightly lengthier than Nanami’s, you’re noticing - though not quite as thick. And with less veins that didn’t massage your inner orifices as much, but made it soooo much easier for him to slip even deeper.
Especially with this position, he manages to probe his cockhead further past where Nanami’s thicker one was able to fit.
Reaching almost for your throat with his blushing, frenzied tip- Higuruma gives a final roll over your clit before he’s pulling out. Letting a few ribbons of sap gush down your legs after him-
Ones that are being fucked right back up with a second length.
Thicker. Harder.
Throbbing so much that you swear you can count them all the way at the top of your head- Nanami’s shaft was next. And he’s lavishing your entrance with so much attention—draaaaagging his vein-decorated shaft in and out. In and out. In and out.
“S-so?” He rasps out from behind. Higuruma’s cockhead had mazed open your insides just a bit more, and Nanami struggles not to let his voice tremble. “Which one of us, darling?”
“Y-you—”
That earns you a bite on the shell of your ear. “No.”
Before he’s pulling back out.
And your breath catches- “Wait- I meant sir. It’s you, sir—”
“Too late for that now.”
“Awww, come now.” Higuruma coos as well. “How are we supposed to make an example out of our star student if she just keeps makin’ mistakes?”
“I think she’s gettin’ lazy now, huh?” The other man responds. And now both of their ruddied cockheads were droolin’ all over your entrance- mixing with the sweetened syrup that was already dripping out of you and creating such a mess. “Maybe she doesn’t deserve our cocks at all?”
“Don’t say that—” You could feel your law professor’s eyes turn to you. “You deserve it- hah, don’t you, angel?”
Shivering at the feeling of both cocks sandwiching between your pussylips. Now that they’d both pulled out- it’s as if they were fighting over who can be next. Rubbin’ and teasing. “I do—” Your voice cracks on that last note, “P-please, I do-”
“I’m still not convinced.”
Higuruma continues, “Promise us you’ll be a good girl? That you’ll listen to what your professors have to say?”
“I will I will-”
“Promise us that no more of that teasin’ stuff in class?” His prominent nose slides down the column of your throat, breathing in your essence. “None of that bending over?”
“Yes—” But you could already hear the question in your throat - and it seems that they could, too.
And it makes Nanami gruffs out. “Because - forgive us - but you do realize that it’s not just us seeing your little…display, darling?” He spreads open your legs even wider, and Higuruma’s ministrations grow even more frenzied on your clit. Squeezing. Pinching. Flicking.
And you’re restless- “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean to say that there are others more…undeserving that see those legs of yours, those panties, those tits.” There’s a sharp edge to his words—“Those boys in class can’t take their eyes off of you.”
“We can’t either, of course.” Higuruma responds. Squeezing his cock inside- “But at least that little performance of yours is meant for us, right?”
“Don’t like the way they look at you.” Nanami’s also squeezing his cock inside now - both of them bullying your hole at once. Creating a stretch that makes your vision go white- so much carnal stimulation that your entire body wracks with shakes. “Don’t like the way they turn to look. Don’t like the way they have to mysteriously…disappear into the bathrooms any time you do your little show.”
“Given…we do the same.” The law professor continues—“Because fuck- how fuckin’ pretty you look all dressed up in silk. Makes it hard not to cream my pants everytime I see you- but none of those boys have the balls to back that admiration up.”
Giving you a thorough slam—both of them.
Higuruma’s the one to continue, “But we do.”
“Because I rub my cock raw to you, my love.” Nanami ends off, holding you close to him. “N’ none of those boys could ever fuck you like we do.”
“Yes, p-please—” And you’re pushed between both of their sculptured fronts. Unable to see them- but you could feel the ridges and curves of their muscles, the way they were both leaning in as though they couldn’t get enough of you. “I only want…ngh.”
One of your arms wrap around Higuruma’s neck, and the other reaches behind you to attempt to clasp onto Nanami’s.
“Just want the two of you…”
“Hmmm…” Nanami’s cock twitches at your gooey entrance- “A+”
And then they’re alternating between fucking you—
“Hiromi.” You’re gasping at the intrusion of his smoothened tip, the velvety texture of him reaching for so many spots inside you but most importantly- that g-spot.
And then he’s pulling back out.
“Sir- fuck, Professor Kento.” Nanami swabs his thickened tip inside and hits that precise spot. Although he decides to take it a few steps further this time and dig his rounded tip into the very back of your pussy, bottoming-out. “Shit shit shit—”
Thrust after thrust.
Pulling out. Shovelling back in.
Making you guess just which one of your two older professors were takin’ over your pussy right now- it made your head dizzy just trying to keep track. Bounced up and down in their arms.
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi—” Before your voice shatters at the feeling of…two thickened lengths attempting to fit inside. Fighting against the resistance for a few sloppy strokes before they’re siiiiiiiiiiiinking in- “And Professor K-Kento, sir…” The feeling of their large, slick-glazed cocks were just incredible - rubbin’ against your walls and one another. Like nothing earlier.
It was a stretch like you’ve never felt before, hittin’ spots that you didn’t even know you had.
And both professors held onto your shaking body tight- they shovelled their lengths in and out of you. Two blushin’ cockheads heading for your g-spot, before their slide-slide-sliiiiiding all the way down to end up at your cervix.
Stretching apart your walls.
Making your channel bulge.
Letting the curves of their mushroomy tips drag apart your walls, n’ press into the sweetest spots of your nerves. Both of their heavy ballsacks smack-smack the front of your cunt right on time with their thrusts. Thrust after thrust.
Again and again.
Nanami grunts at the sensation of Higuruma deep inside you, “F-fuck…”
“You can say that again.” Higuruma himself replies.
By now, the jostlin’ about had meant that your blindfold was falling off- and you could see the two men upon either side of you. Shovelling their hot cocks deep inside your pussy, positively ravaging you.
The law professor’s fingers weren’t letting up on your clit just yet, either.
He quirks his digits just a bit to draw a little heart upon it—and soon enough you find yourself throwing your head back with a moan. “G-gonna-”
“Shhhh—” Nanami grins. His ears keenly listen to the noises from between your legs - they were just so much louder now that you had two thickened shafts ramming into you. “This pussy says she’s gonna cum soon, darling.”
“Y-you little-”
A harsh hammerin’ on your spongy cervix. “Pardon, my love?”
“Nothing—oh.” Even their thrusting styles were different - Nanami Kento with his thorough, solid slashes as though he was trying to reach your womb every single time. And Higuruma Hiromi with slightly slower, smoother glides of his cock - soothing through the nooks n’ crannies that Nanami had activated first.
It was the perfect combination.
Naughty and nice.
Though not exactly in the way you’d initially thought.
And perhaps this manner was what was making you so desperate to cum again- “Please-” Gasping. “Let me cum—”
You’re looking between a grinning Nanami and Higuruma. Dazedly.
“Please may I-” Choking out in-between the moans and droplets of saliva that were gushing out of you- falling onto Higuruma’s puffed-out chest. “-cum, sirs?”
Both of their rock-hard cocks twitch deep inside of you.
And you’re briefly seeing a silent conversation pass between them-
“Go ahead, angel.”
“Cum all over my cock, darling.”
And it might have been minutes, it might have been seconds, it might have been split-seconds later once you’re crashing into your high. The waves of white-hot pleasure taking over you until it felt like your body was burning up.
Feverish.
You’re crying out as you attempt to bounce your lewd hips back into both their shovelling shafts- but they’ve already got you. They’re holding onto your perspired body - so limp now with pleasure - and lettin’ their pointed cockheads hit each and every nerve bundle inside.
Pinpointing your g-spot with their lengths.
Targeting it especially through peak after peak.
After peak.
Your cunt trickles with honeyed slick- and it slips between your three bodies to drench Higuruma and Nanami’s cocks. Their thighs. Their bodies.
Making it even louder to thrust into your cunt—you’re forced to raise your voice just a little just so that they can hear. “Sh-shit…” Until eventually you’re feeling so raw on their relentless cocks that you’re unsure whether you want them to elongate those waves of bliss or whether you want to fucking run away—“It feels so- oh, it feels…”
“And what do we say?” Nanami’s deep baritone croons out. He doesn’t slow down for a single second as he speaks- even though he himself was feeling a little sensitive by this point.
He hits his full ballsack against the front of your cunt and hisses- “Can I have it all inside…” You’re looking between them with wide, heart-shaped pupils. “-sirs?”
And you should’ve known what that would do.
You should’ve known how much that would break them.
Because with only a few final thrusts, both Higuruma and Nanami cum inside you with loud slurps! of your greedy cunt. Gobblin’ up all those white ropes of seed that they were emptying out - sheer volumes that they’d been holding onto for hours, days, this entire semester.
Nanami furrows his golden brows and presses his face into the crook of your neck. Groaning as he fucks you through his orgasm, “A-and here I was just expecting a thank you…”
“Our girl always was the sweetest.” Higuruma coos.
Your history professor rides through his high with his teeth grit, jaw working overtime to keep his noises to a minimum - he wanted to hear your soft gasps and groans even more. Though his body shakes as it keeps on thrummin’ with pleasure.
Visceral.
Meanwhile, your law professor let out such husky grunts after each splat! of cum that he emptied out against your womb. He couldn’t even handle fucking you properly anymore and his hips kept on stutterin’ through his waves.
Cheeks flushed. Gaze locked on you.
He didn’t want to tear it away.
Both of them are cumming so much that you nearly can’t tell who’s who - with their dollops of heated, syrupy sap. Each divot bawling them out messily—you can feel them stick against the end of your pussy, right where your cervix was, before being stirred about by the motions of their cylindrical shafts.
Their prominent veins massagin’ your sweetest spots. Their globular cockheads pumping every single droplet inside you.
Every single droplet.
Not a single bead of that ivory cum escapes—but they’re both still looking at each other with the same idea.
And you’re seeing yet another silent conversation pass between them that you miss. “Oh?”
In almost no time, Higuruma and Nanami have you splayed out on the polished desk - back against its flat surface, legs held high in the air. This time, however, both their faces were between your pussylips and attempting to beat the other—
They were lappin’ their dual tongues over your leaking cunt like they were starved.
Nanami’s hand pressing down on your stomach to make a few more droplets spray out of your hole- Higuruma’s hand flicking over your clit still.
You lean back on your elbows and watch them.
And what a sight it was: both their handsome faces between your legs.
They nudge their noses against the creamy layers on top of your cunt, and swivel the mess around like mad. You could see through your tears the exact moment - the exact moment - that their pinkish tongues meet in the middle.
Where Higuruma’s tastebuds overlap with Nanami’s as they’re suckling on your clit- and they both flinch at the sensation before moaning—
And that’s before the door clicks.
“Oi, why are the lights still on? Don’t you know that campus has closed a long time ag-”
You pause.
Nanami pauses.
Higuruma pauses.
And so does Professor Shiu Kong - Head of the Mathematics Department, also PhD with Distinction.
His jaw drops as his eyes drift over from the mess of clothes on the floor, to the mess that’d been made of you. Bite marks all over your throat. The blindfold still around your neck. And even more - you could see the way his hands tighten on his files as his gaze probes deeper, taking in your leaking, lecherous cunt.
No one moves.
Except for Shiu, who steps inside.
Your heart was in your throat.
Getting ready for a berating of some kind- or potentially even worse. Perhaps a suspension, perhaps Nanami and Higuruma would be fired at once-
“So…” Shiu’s husky voice interrupts your thoughts. “-got room for mathematics?”
A/N. Heheheheh ofc we got room for youuuuuuuuu Shiu <33
｡°✩ pairings ; nanami kento x fem!reader x hiromi higuruma
⋆｡°✩ summary ; kento and hiromi loose their minds over their coworker, aka you.
⋆｡°✩ cw ; NSFW/MDNI ; sexualization (not malicious but take it as you will) ; male masturbation ; fantasizing ; the closet is glass guys ; implied bisexual nanami and higuruma ; erm.. idk what else to tell u ; corruption kink ; these men r freaks
⋆｡°✩ author's note; i saw @/owwllly's art and could NOT stop thinking abt this duo so yeah... enjoy freaks. banner is also owwllly's art on tumblr .
⋆｡°✩ wc; 1.2k
the lab was quiet, too quiet after you left. the centrifuge was still humming in it's corner, a low and steady whir filling in the silence where light conversation should've filled it. the fume hood lightly buzzed overhead, its light emanated a faint, sterile glow over the half cleaned lab.
nothing was unusual, yet everything was.
nanami sat back in his chair, fingers loosely steepled against his lips, his hair askew like he hasn't bothered to fix them since you walked out.
across from him, was an equally tired higuruma. he leaned back into his own seat, head tipped back, eyes half-lidded like normal, but the pinch in his brow signified that he was thinking. well, trying to gather his thoughts, clearly failing of course.
neither of them spoke, after all, both of the were men of less words then their subordinates, like satoru gojo.
your presence lingered in small, and undeniable ways.
the sparkly pink glitter pen you had put in the pen holder rest near nanami's desk. your writing on the whiteboard plastered at the front of the lab, that to-do list filled with doodles of bows, flowers, butterflies and terrible attempts at recreating their faces. the scent of your perfume, something soft, distracting and tempting, clung stubbornly to the air after you had sprayed it again to "get ready to conquer the metro". in your own words of course.
higuruma exhaled slowly, running his hand through his hair. "this... is getting ridiculous."
nanami didn't respond immediately, a noncommittal grunt left first. he straightened up, his gaze flickering to the doorway where you disappeared though.
"....agreed." nanami paused, for almost too long before saying anything.
it wasn't just today, but today was the nail in the coffin. it had been building, for weeks at this point. cramming on the subway together, your body sandwiched between the two of them. every jolt had sent you pressing against them even harder than before, and fuck, they were gentlemen. but gentlemen are are no better then men. they just... exercise more restraint.
but even they had their limits too.
nanami loosened his tie, a sloppy motion for what many people considered a precise man. but it did nothing to ease the tension sitting heavy inside of him.
"you're distracted, kento." higuruma muttered, but there was no real malice or bite to it.
"who wouldn't be with... that around you." nanami's expression didn't change.
silence settled over them again, but it didn't feel right. the air was still too charged, filled with words that they won't dare to speak but already know they want to say.
higuruma broke the silence first.
"i'm going to say something,” he murmured, voice flat but tinged with that slight roughness from hours of work. “hopefully... you will not comment on it..”
"that is highly unlikely, given our circumstances."
a beat where neither dared to say anything.
higuruma exhaled again, his time more drawn out. his hand dragged down his face like he was already regretting this.
"when she spilled the water earlier, her blouse was white."
"i am aware of that, hiromi."
"then, i don't have to explain why i haven't be able to focus for the past hour." higuruma shifted in his seat, his cock betraying whatever ounce of dignity he had left. he felt that traitorous tightening in his pants.
"it was pink. with those lace flowers. i'd say she has impeccable taste if it wasn't for how... tempting she is." nanami groans, leaning back into his chair now, also feeling that same traitorous tightening.
"she wore that cherry lipgloss too. the one with glitter." higuruma's jaw tightened after the admission, like it physically pained him to do so.
nanami taps his finger against his thigh, an absent rhythm on his slacks as his gaze fixed somewhere near the door. after a moment, nanami's voice comes softer, almost hesitant, as if the idea just slipped out before he could stop it.
"do you think.. perhaps she gets herself off to us?"
higurumas eyes blow just the tiniest bit wider. "what?"
"i don't want to repeat myself."
higurumas exhales, debating his words carefully. "she seems.. too proper to do something like that."
nanami takes a sharp sinking further into his chair, the words coming out somewhat choked, "she's so beautiful, and i want to do things i know i shouldn't say."
"she'd look so beautiful falling apart for us." higuruma lets the words slip out before he can stop them.
and now they're at a standstill, neither of them speaking. because they're picturing it in full detail.
your cute thighs trembling around them, your voice breaking from moaning so much that you can't even say their names properly, gripping at their shirts and scratching them whenever you can because it's just too much for you and you don't know how else to take it out.
would your eyes be glossy with unshed tears from how good it felt? or would your lips be swollen from how hard they kissed you. even better yet, would your cute little clit poke out from the hood? so they could rub on until you were mewling and pushing their hands away?
they both don't realize their hands have drifted to their laps until nanami clears his throat.
"we're never speaking of this again." he grumbles, fumbling with the buckle of his belt, unzipping his slacks, pulling down his boxers and letting his cock free.
"agreed." higuruma follows suit, letting how own aching cock spring free.
they both wrap their hands around their own cocks. higuruma lets out a low hiss between his teeth as he slowly strokes from the tip to the base. nanami's breathing becomes more strained with with his head tilted back and his eyelids fluttering shut as he eases into it. he jerks slowly, lazily at first, easing himself into it.
higuruma thumbs down the line of his flared tip - that pinkish, slippery line now oozing with precum. his stroking spreads it all over his shaft,
they jerk off in unision, without meaning too at first, their pace slowly picking up, getting used to the heat, the rhythm the shared ache, all for you. the room is fill with the sound of precum smearing under their hands, the dull buzz of the outside world forgotten. all they can think about is you.
"she'd be so pretty choking on our cocks." higuruma grunts, his own hips beginning to meet his hands through the rhythmic fap! fap! fap! sounds.
"her pretty face would be all ruined, i can just imagine her makeup all smudged, gagging all over our lengths." nanami groans, his free hand coming up to toy with his tip.
"wanna eat her cute pussy, i bet she'd taste like heaven." higuruma bites down on his moan.
"imagine her between us? riding your face while i fuck her throat. nothing in that pretty little head of her's besides us."
"kento... don't." his voice breaks now, the thought too much for even him,
nanami falls apart first, surprisingly, spilling hot spurts of cum into his hand, he shudders at the sensation, breathless through the shock of it all.
higuruma wasn't far behind, spills all over his own wrist, his hand still moving up and down lazily through it all.
the lab is silent again, apart from their ragged breathing.
"we take this to the grave." nanami mumbled and he scooted in his chair to where there were tissues.
"she.. cannot know." higuruma nods along, also grabbing a few tissues from a box nearby and cleaning himself up.
(they both stroked themselves again later that night, whether it was to the thought of you, or the situation.. well? i guess we'll never know.)
CW. college au, same universe as a secret alliance, enemies to lovers, forced proximity trope, angst and fluff, they’re both stubborn assholes (romantic?), language, some written content, fighting and arguments, suggestive/mature humor, lowkey some sexual tension, most likely ooc
STATUS. COMPLETED!
SUMMARY. Rintaro finally decides to hops on the MysMatch* train. When he and his match finally meet up, it’s his luck when the person is none other than his sworn enemy— Y/N. You would think after that unlucky meeting you wouldn’t have to deal with him again, but it seems fate has other plans for you.
* MysMatch - an app where you can match anonymously with strangers online and chat
synopsis: who knew that the shy, awkward and dorky girl Suguru thought was weird would end up being the love of his life?
WATERMELON
pairing: college!suguru geto x dork!reader
<<previous
contains: fluff, angst, suggestiveness, strangers to lovers, geto being a dick, recreational use of wed, partying, tbd
“What do you mean, I got an F?”
Yaga sighed at one of his most…talented students’ words. God, he really wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with such annoying students.
“Yes, Mr. Geto, an F. Your midterm was horrible, disgusting, and not to mention, late.”
Geto groaned at his sensei’s statement, headache from his hangover coming back.
To be completely honest, he didn’t even remember what the fuck he sent to Yaga two weeks ago. It could’ve been that one hate text message he sent one of his rivals at two a.m, or the half made essay about how all humans will turn into crabs.
But it doesn’t matter. He fucking failed an exam worth a fourth of his grade.
“You have a lot of potential, Mr. Geto. But no discipline.” Yaga scolded, frowning.
“And…that is why, I’ll assign you a tutor. And I will give you another exam to do.”
Geto nodded, rubbing his aching forehead. Good, that was good. Yaga was usually a super strict professor, so it was a miracle itself that he even assigned a tutor to Suguru, much less give him a second chance at an exam.
He knew that he had to fix his life again, that he wasn’t a rockstar. Not yet at least. For now, he’s just a psych major.
If he was honest with himself, he should probably stop drinking every night and sleeping so late. He’d age horribly if he continued this way.
Suguru only needed one incentive to stop his horrible lifestyle…
You tripped into the lecture hall due to your hair masking your vision, your tea falling all over you.
“Aw, shit. This was my favourite hoodie.” You cursed under your breath, taking off the Pokemon hoodie that you were wearing, your glasses getting stuck in your hair while you struggled to take the sweater off.
Suguru could’ve seen an angel the moment you entered. His eyes widened, looking you up and down.
Pokemon? Oh, you two already had so much in common. He loved Pokemon. That could totally be a point of conversation.
“Ah, your tutor’s here.” Yaga said, walking back to his desk.
…Suguru thought it was fate. He mindlessly nodded at whatever Yaga was saying, getting up from his chair and walking all the way to you with his long legs.
This was his first time talking to you, he had to be as charming as possible.
“Hey, I’m Geto. It’s so nice to-” The moment he saw it, he felt as if he was going to throw up.
Your face.
How didn’t he recognize you? Sure, you didn’t have those big glasses that made your eyes look like a fish. A very…cute fish, might he add. But your face was easily recognizable.
Well, to him at least, since he totally hated you. He totally didn’t feel guilty about what he said last month. He totally didn’t get almost run over by Shoko and Utahime after the latter picked you up ‘crying’.
He totally didn’t throw up in disgust at his own actions.
In his defense, he was terribly drunk, high on adrenaline and many other things, but he also felt like he was on top of the world.
His hand was extended, frozen as his thoughts scrambled all over.
“What do you want?” You spoke up, trying to seem confident, but your voice cracked.
You stood up rather quickly, leaving his hand empty as you clutched all your books to your chest, shy at the fact that you were wearing a simple tank top in front of the judgiest man you know.
Geto blinked, frowning. “I…You’re my tutor.”
You froze, flushing as you turned to the teacher. “Mr. Yaga, are you serious?” You blurted out.
Yaga shrugged. “Yes, you signed up for the tutor program.”
…Right. You did. You needed the extra money.
“How much am I getting paid?”
The silence was very loud, the hall echoing your question.
“Twenty bucks an hour. He’s paying. Now get the hell out of my classroom and work.”
“Hey…uhm, about that…thing that happened…last month.”
“We don’t need to talk. I will just help by explaining.” You said back, crossing your arms.
The library was mostly empty, with only some of your friends studying.
It was awkward, spending time with the same dude that cussed you out of his party, but twenty bucks were twenty bucks.
Not like you did anything, though. He was smart, he could study by himself.
So, you were nose deep into your little booklet, writing poems for your next literature class. It was a new class you had been taking, mostly to fill your schedule.
Even if you could stay in silence for hours without letting out even a peep, Suguru did not have this ability.
He was tapping everything. His pencil, his foot or his cup. It was annoying, but you tried to ignore it until he spoke up.
“Look, I’m not trying to justify why I was being a dick-”
“I don’t care. You sure didn’t that night.” You shrugged, pushing your glasses up.
“Then how can I make it up?” He asked in a deep tone.
“Nothing. Mistakes are made. That’s it.”
Geto scoffed at that. Why did he want you to accept his apology anyway? You never talk to each other. He still calls you a loser.
Suguru didn’t even know himself. He feels pissed off at everything these days, but maybe that F on the assignment put some things into perspective.
Or…maybe he feels guilty. You’re…well, you didn’t have the chance to have a first impression without him being sober.
Maybe he wants to change that. Or maybe he wants to prove to himself that he can still be the charismatic Suguru Geto he was before this whole band thing.
Speaking of, he did have practice, so he should probably cut the tutoring session.
“...I have to leave.” He said plainly, taking his wallet out and giving you a very generous tip.
You blinked at the multiple bills in your hand, confused and slightly flustered.
“Wh…what?” You stuttered out, looking up at him with a frown.
Suguru shrugged, a smirk on his lips.
“It looks like you need it. I mean, that hoodie of yours is ruined. Might as well buy yourself something new.” He purred, determination in his eyes.
You pursed your lips, perplexed. Was…Was he flirting with you? No, that wasn’t possible.
He stood up, walking away without his books.
“What a fucking weirdo.” You mumbled under your breath as he left, looking down at his stuff.
As you did, you noticed that your poem booklet went missing.
Did…did he just steal one of your most treasured items? And he still wants to make amends?
You may be a dork, but Suguru Geto is a whole different level of weird.
Geto smirked to himself as he snooped through your book, already brewing a plan.
Suguru knew what he wants as an incentive, even if you already hate his guts. He’ll win you over, he’ll prove to himself that he still has it.
He just has to find a way to make you like him.
Which was impossible, considering that one drunken mistake put him in your death note.
a/n: we are NOT gonna be manipulated chat. Also, the tag list is closed ;( Everybody who didn't get tagged the index has the chapters.
