Synopsis : You moved in for cheap rent, not to get passed around. but with four insanely hot men under same roof, it didn’t take long before things got messy. now you’re cockwarming nanami at midnight, riding gojo in the shower, bent over for geto before dinner, and getting your throat fucked by toji. college? peace? who needs it when you’re getting dicked down for good?
one two three four five six seven eight nine ten
eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen
chapter sixteen coming soon...
Side stories are here
A/N : this fic is very smut-heavy and most chapters contain multiple smut scenes. if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading, please feel free to skip this one *.✧
Dedicated to: @sightoru (cause i know izuku’s their favorite 🥰)
A/N: For Blu’s Breeder Collab!! Here’s the masterlist to the rest of the works!!
Nights with him were rare and far in between.
As a pro-hero and the Symbol of Peace, Izuku didn’t have as much time for you as he used to. Little things, such as date night being cut short as he was called off for a mission or patrol were frequent and he often forgot to eat unless you reminded him. His daily calls and texts that used to occur when he was a sidekick at Endeavor’s agency dwindled down to almost nothing as he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders.
characters - rin , sae , kaiser , ness , nagi , reo. ( incubus bllk boys x female reader) | pt II here! | pt III here!
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｡𖦹°‧ RIN ITOSHI
you never stood a chance.
because rin doesn’t fuck out of need, he fucks out of control.
and now that he’s tasted you, he doesn’t want to share.
doesn’t want to leave.
doesn’t want to stop.
he appears in your dreams like a shadow in the corner of your room, tall and still and watching, teal eyes faintly glowing, mouth twisted in his usual scowl.
you beg him not to do it again, not to use you like that, not to turn you into some dazed little doll who wakes up sore and shaking.
he doesn’t listen.
“ shut up,” he mutters, spreading your legs open as your eyes flutter. “ you’re the one dreaming about me.”
he eats your pussy like he’s starving. fingers gripping your thighs open, tongue dragging long and deep, until you cum all over his face and he still doesn’t stop.
he fucks you slow, but hard. rough thrusts that make your headboard hit the wall.
and when you cry, he just licks the tears from your cheek.
he never says it.
but the way he marks you, fills you, stays in your dreams night after night.
you know he’s obsessed.
and he hates himself for it.
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｡𖦹°‧ SAE ITOSHI
sae doesn’t visit your dreams.
he summons you to his domain, dark marble floors, black firelight, velvet-draped throne and all — and expects you to kneel like the little plaything you are.
“ what a mess you’ve become,” he hums, fingers curling under your chin. “ all this just for me?”
he has that deadpan calm, even when he’s fucking you, like you’re a new luxury item he’s toying with, not a person. he watches you break beneath him like it’s routine.
his thrusts are slow, deep, and humiliating, never giving you enough, never letting you control anything.
he makes you say please.
makes you thank him.
makes you beg to be filled.
and when you cum too fast, too loud, too desperate, he only raises an eyebrow.
“pathetic,” he murmurs, but his voice is low with approval.
“ i guess you were made for this after all.”
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｡𖦹°‧ MICHAEL KAISER
you feel him before you see him, his presence like static electricity on your skin.
then he appears, always with that confident grin, shirt half-unbuttoned, wings spread wide.
“ guess who’s back, baby.”
kaiser lives to ruin you.
he wants you crying, shaking, clawing at his back.
he wants to hear every breathless moan, every broken scream, every “ please, more, kaiser—” like it’s a song written just for him.
“ look at that face,” he coos, stuffing two fingers into your mouth while he fucks you from behind.
“ that’s the face of a girl who’s addicted.”
his incubus form is flashy and powerful, glowing tattoos across his chest, gold-dusted skin, aura humming with pleasure and pride.
he takes you on his throne, in the air, against the walls.
“ you’re mine,” he growls in your ear after filling you up, “ but don’t worry, sweetheart. i take care of my toys.” *i kinda cringe here..anywayss*
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｡𖦹°‧ ALEXIS NESS
ness is soft-spoken, sweet, and pretty, with glittering pink horns and a voice like honey.
he asks before touching. strokes your hair. kisses you like you’re a porcelain doll.
but the moment you moan for him? he changes.
his mouth turns filthy. his claws come out. his tail curls around your ankle to keep you in place.
“ you’re so easy to ruin,” he breathes, watching your cunt stretch around his cock.
“ so soft, so helpless.”
ness loves overstimulating you. he’ll eat you out until your thighs are shaking, then shove his cock inside and fuck you slow just to watch you sob. he kisses your tears, calls you his good little human girl, and makes you say “ please” every time.
when he cums inside you, he moans like he’s the one losing his mind.
and he always stays just long enough to clean you up… with his tongue.
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｡𖦹°‧ NAGI SEISHIRO
he doesn’t hunt.
he waits.
nagi’s the one who shows up when you’re bored, horny, touching yourself with your hand between your legs like it’s nothing.
and suddenly he’s there, yawning, stretching his arms, brushing silver hair out of his eyes.
“ need help?” he mumbles, before you even realize what’s happening.
his cock is massive. thick. heavy. and he’s so lazy with it, just drapes you across the bed, pushes himself into you inch by inch while groaning in your ear like you’re the one tiring him out.
but he never stops.
not even when your body’s gone limp. not even when you’ve cum four times and you’re shaking.
“ feels good… ‘m not done yet,” he’ll just mutter, and keep rutting into you slow and deep until you’re half-conscious, drool dripping from your lips.
“ you feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. “ can i cum inside again? ‘m too lazy to pull out.”
nagi doesn’t fuck you like a demon.
nagi fucks like he barely cares, but somehow, that makes it worse.
he uses your body like it’s a toy. tosses you on his lap, makes you ride him while he scrolls his phone. tells you not to stop even when your legs give out.
he moans like you’re his personal massage chair.
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｡𖦹°‧ REO MIIKAGE
reo has everything.
gold. power. worship.
but what he really wants? you, whimpering underneath him, trembling around his cock, looking up at him like he’s your entire world.
“ no one else gets to see this side of you,” he murmurs, voice dark and greedy as he presses kisses to your stomach.
“ you’re mine now, okay?”
reo’s incubus form is gorgeous, jeweled horns, sleek claws, even his wings shimmer like polished obsidian.
he doesn’t fuck you. he spoils you with sex.
he fingers you slowly in silk sheets while murmuring “good girl” into your neck, makes you cum until your body’s twitching before he even pulls his cock out.
then he ruins you, hips slamming into you fast and hard until you’re crying his name into the pillow.
he praises you like it’s worship.
but he owns you like a devil.
“ cum for me, baby,” he purrs, breath hot against your ear. “show me who your body belongs to.”
Pairings: Various Love&Deepspace Men x reader
Summary: You recently bought and moved into a big house. Due to how vast it is, and you live alone, you decided to adopt five cats to keep you company! However, one day, you wake up to see five men in the spots where your five cats usually sleep on your bed.
Note: I really enjoyed writing this so much that I ended up finishing it earlier than planned, lowkey LMAO. To be honest, I didn't know what I was going to write for LADS, but when I was walking on the treadmill, this idea just hit me out of nowhere. I guess I'll be brainstorming more while I exercise 💀 Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: None that I know of
Word Count: 6.6k
It's been a month since you moved into your house. You're a homeowner now, and the thought of it still shocks you to this day. You decorated your house as you desired and envisioned, and you're satisfied with the results. However, since you moved from an apartment to a fairly big house, you can't help but feel lonely.
You don't have to worry about being too loud when walking around your house, or when you're vacuuming and talking on the phone. But it's a bit too quiet for your liking. Sure, you can blast music as loud as you'd like, but you crave companionship. You could always ask Tara to move in with you and be your roommate, but the idea of a roommate isn't something you're used to.
So, you ended up adopting five cats of different breeds. You adopted a Ragdoll cat named Xavier, a Maine Coon named Zayne, a Devon Rex named Rafayel, a Caracal cat named Sylus, and a brown Tabby cat named Caleb. All five male cats who love you more than the treats you give them, surprisingly. Every day, you wake up to all five of your cats sleeping around you. They certainly keep you on your toes, and it's never a dull day when they're around. You couldn't be happier with your decision to adopt five adorable cats.
But sometimes you regret it because imagine waking up at the ass crack of dawn to one of your cats screaming in your face for food. You love sleeping, especially when you don't have to show up to work. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night to one of your cats stepping on your face. But that's not the most painful part. Have you ever had a single paw on your boob? Somehow, Caleb would put his entire weight on a single paw when he's stepping on your boob. He wouldn't move; he would stay there for as long as he liked.
"Meow."
You ignore the meow, trying to fall back asleep.
"Meow." But this time, the meow is accompanied by a small tap on your nose from a paw.
You know who it is. Rafayel loves meowing in your face to wake you up from your slumber. Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, Rafayel bats your face with his tiny paws, making you flinch and groan. That seems to satisfy Rafayel as he continues to paw at your face, softly meowing.
"Mmm… not now, Rafayel. I'm still sleeping," You mumble, pulling your blanket over your head.
That seems to annoy Rafayel, seeing you pull your blanket over your head so he wouldn't be able to paw and meow in your face while trying to sleep. But how dare you let him starve?! He hasn't eaten anything in hours, and you're over here sleeping?! It's like you want him and the other cats to starve and die!
Rafayel looks over at the other cats in the room. They're all scattered around your bedroom—Zayne's grooming himself on top of a cat tree, Xavier's napping in his bed, Sylus's licking his paws at the edge of your bed, and Caleb's pawing at the little trinkets on your desk.
Why are they not doing anything about this? If it weren't for Rafayel, the others would've starved as well! Sensing Rafayel's irritation, Sylus crawls under the blanket and makes his way towards your face. Sylus stares at you, blinking. You're sleeping, buried under your blanket to avoid Rafayel's rude wake-up call. Sylus purrs, gently nudging your face with his, startling you awake.
You crack your eyes open to see Sylus blinking at you. You rub your eyes, eyebrows furrowing. You finally come out from underneath the blanket, much to Sylus and Rafayel's satisfaction. Rafayel nudges his face against yours, purring loudly while Sylus starts climbing on top of you.
"God, Sylus, not now. You're heavy," You mumble, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
As always, Sylus ignores your comment and proceeds to lie on top of you, kneading your chest while purring. Seeing that you're still not getting up to give him his breakfast, Rafayel paws at your face again.
"Meeeeow," Rafayel protests, almost glaring at you for still being in bed and not pouring his precious food into his food bowl.
You look at Rafayel. "Why are you yelling at me? It's only," You peek at the clock on your nightstand. "It's four in the morning, Rafayel! Goodness, you're an early bird, aren't you?"
"Meeeeeeeow," Rafayel replies, rolling over on his back, purring and looking up at you.
You sigh in defeat, looking up at the ceiling and questioning yourself why you thought it was a great idea to adopt more than one cat if you cherished sleep so much. But you love them, and you sure hope that they love you too. After what felt like an eternity for Rafayel, you finally decide to get up from bed.
"Alright, alright, let's feed you guys before Rafayel screams in my face for not doing so," You mumble.
Just as you're about to leave your room, you trip over Caleb. Caleb jumps and scrambles to the other side of your room. You prop your hands on your hips, closing your eyes. It's too early for this.
"I'm so sorry, Caleb," You softly coo at Caleb, kneeling on the ground as Caleb approaches you.
Caleb stands on his hind legs and rubs his head against the palm of your hand, purring. It's almost like he's telling you that he accepts your apology. You cup his tiny face in your hands and press kisses on his cute little face, earning a loud purr from Caleb.
"Meow!" Rafayel cries out, nipping at your ankles.
You flinch. "Ow! Dammit, Rafayel!"
Rafayel's ears pin back on his head, his pupils becoming huge. Oh, hell no. You know that look way too well. Rafayel's tail starts swaying as he crouches, shaking his butt as he stares at you with anticipation.
You immediately stand up, pointing at Rafayel. "Rafayel, if you bite me again, I will not give you any breakfast until nine in the morning!"
"Meow!" Rafayel protests.
Zayne and Xavier walk up to where you, Sylus, Rafayel, and Caleb are standing. Zayne raises his paw and lightly hits Rafayel's back. Rafayel's head snaps in Zayne's direction, hissing. Zayne doesn't react, but continues to stare at Rafayel, unamused with his behavior.
"Mew?" Xavier asks, tilting his head to the side while staring at you with curiosity and worry. His big blue eyes mesmerize you. Goodness, he's such a pretty cat.
"I'm okay, Xavie. I hope you slept well, little guy," You coo, petting the back of Xavier's ears, earning a loud purr from the Ragdoll cat. "Alright, let's get you guys something to eat before Rafayel screams at me again."
You walk to the kitchen with your little army of cats following behind. You put five cat bowls on the kitchen counter, pulling out the dry cat food from the kitchen cabinet while the five cats stand behind you, watching you prepare their food.
Rafayel jumps on the counter, leaning forward to try to get a taste of his breakfast, but you immediately grab him. "Meow!" Rafayel protests, wiggling in your grasp.
"Not now, Rafayel! Be patient like the others!" You scold Rafayel before putting him back down on the ground.
"MEEEOOOW!" Rafayel screams, rubbing his body up against your calves while you're measuring and pouring dry food into their bowls.
Zayne sits on the counter, watching you pour food into their bowls while licking his paws. You reach out and pet his ears. Zayne paws at your hand and proceeds to jump on your shoulders, his tail wrapping around your neck like a scarf.
"Alright, breakfast is ready!" You mutter, grabbing their food bowls and placing them in designated areas where they wouldn't eat from each other's food bowls.
Zayne gets his food first because he's been well-behaved. Next is Rafayel because, despite his impatience, he's the one who makes sure you feed him and the others, or else you'll sleep in and forget to give them breakfast like that one time.
You grab Sylus, Xavier, and Caleb's food bowls, placing them on their feeding mats. You watch them happily chomp away. While they're eating their breakfast, you quickly refill their water bowl before making breakfast for yourself.
That's your new routine ever since adopting five cats. You love them all so much, and they love you just as much as you love them. Probably not as much, but who knows? It's not like you speak cat. Just when you thought you were adjusting to having five cats living at your house, life decides to throw another obstacle in your direction.
You stumble through the door, accidentally slamming the front door behind you, and startling your poor cats. You're exhausted, and you just want to go to bed. But your babies need to be fed. You opted to buy them an automatic feeder, but the one you've been eyeing is currently sold out, and you're not entirely sure when it'll be restocked.
You take your shoes off and put them on the shoe rack, petting Caleb and Sylus as you walk towards the kitchen to prepare their dinner. The five cats follow behind you, their tails high in the air.
You collect their food bowls, grab the dry food from the cabinet, and begin scooping a certain amount of food into the bowl. Rafayel does his usual routine of meowing, attempting to take a bite of food from Xavier's bowl, only for you to grab him and put him on the ground.
"Meow! Meow! Meow!" Rafayel babbles, standing on his hind legs to get a glimpse of the food being scooped into the bowls.
You shake your head. "I know, Rafayel. I'm sorry for being home later than usual. I was caught up at work. But no need to worry," You murmur.
After feeding the cats, you leave to take a much-needed shower. Today's been rough on you, and you want to crawl into bed as soon as possible. But not without showering because there's no way in hell you're climbing into bed while smelling like the outside.
You shower for fifteen minutes, change into comfortable clothes, and start and complete your nightly skincare routine. While you're preparing for bed, the cats gather outside the bathroom door, waiting for you. Xavier paws at the door, meowing softly while eyeing the door in hopes that you emerge from the bathroom soon.
"Meow…" Sylus claws at the door, as if he's knocking to let you be aware of his presence outside the bathroom.
"Mrow?" Caleb lies on the ground, sticking his little paws underneath the door, reaching around.
You snort, watching Caleb's tiny paws swiping on the ground, his paws spread wide. You kneel and grab at his paw, startling the poor cat. You snort, unlocking the door to face the five cats waiting for you.
"I guess we're all ready for bed?" You murmur, turning the bathroom lights off and stepping over them to make your way to your bed.
You crawl into your bed, getting underneath the covers. Sylus, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Caleb hop on your bed, finding the perfect spot to lie on. While you're situating yourself, each cat plops around you, making sure a part of them is touching you somehow.
"Goodnight, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier, Caleb," You whisper, looking at each cat. They stare at you, blinking slowly before closing their eyes. You're itching to reach for your phone to take pictures of how cute they are, but you're so comfortable. Instead, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.
The next day, you wake up to the sun shining in your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face in your blanket to block out the sunlight. Strange. Usually, you wake up to Rafayel meowing in your face and pawing at you to wake up, but this time, it's the sun that's waking you up.
Shit. What time is it!? You jolt up in your bed, frantically reaching for your phone to check the time. It's nine-thirty in the morning. Fuck. Rafayel and the others are not going to be happy that their breakfast is five hours late! You try to toss your blanket off your body, but something's blocking you from doing so.
You look to see five men occupying the space where your cats were sleeping. Five tall, handsome men. You let out a choked gasp, waking up the five men lying on your bed.
You stumble back, pointing at them in horror. "Who are you people and how did you break into my house?!" You demand, trying to sound intimidating, only for it to come out as a pathetic stutter. "Did I forget to lock the front door last night? There's no way…"
"Relax, [Y/N]. We're the same cats you adopted. There's no need to freak out. What you should freak out over is the fact that it's almost five hours past our breakfast," The purple-haired man says, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.
"Rafayel…?" You whisper.
His ears perk up. "Well, duh! It's rude to forget to feed us, you know?"
The white-haired man chuckles. "Rafayel, you're usually the one to wake her up to feed the rest of us. If anything, the person you should be upset with is yourself, not [Y/N]."
Rafayel glares at the man, his bottom lip jutting out. You look at each man on your bed, gradually recognizing who's who by looking at the ears on their heads.
"What's on your mind? You look conflicted," Caleb says, tilting his head to the side.
You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. "That means I'll have to make you guys human breakfast, not give you guys the usual dry food for breakfast," You murmur.
"I can help you cook, if you'd like?" Xavier offers, gazing at you with those sweet eyes of his.
Oh, heavens, he's so cute. Having Xavier help you cook food? He just turned into a human. Would it be a good idea to let him cook? Before you can decline his offer, Xavier's already giving you those hurt puppy dog looks, as if he knows you're going to reject his offer.
You sigh in defeat. "Alright, you can help me cook. But only put in the ingredients when I tell you to, alright?"
Xavier smiles, nodding. "You're the boss."
You get up from your bed, walking to the bathroom to start your day before cooking breakfast for everyone. It's so odd not waking up to Rafayel's meows and paw swiping at your face to wake you up at four in the morning for breakfast.
Waking up to five men with cat ears and tails is certainly strange, and sounds like something from a fantasy movie. Or some manhua you've been indulging in at an unhealthy level. Perhaps you're in a manhua yourself?
Or, better yet, an otome game where you're the female lead who just so happens to unknowingly adopt shape-shifters into your home, and they turn into handsome men. That makes more sense than the fantasy movie assumption. Where did you get that idea, anyway?
A knock at the bathroom door pulls you out of your thoughts. You blink, now looking at yourself in the mirror with your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, the toothpaste foaming in the corner of your lips.
"Sweetie, are you alright in there? You've been in the bathroom for fifteen minutes," Sylus says from behind the door.
You quickly rinse your mouth and toothbrush, wiping your mouth with your towel, and turning off the faucet. "Yeah! Sorry, I-I was distracted," You say, opening the bathroom door and coming face to chest with Sylus.
Goodness, this man is tall. You have to tilt your head all the way back to make eye contact with the Caracal cat. Man. Sylus crosses his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowing, his ears twitching.
"What could be taking your attention away from us, Sweetie? There's nothing interesting in that bathroom, last time I checked," Sylus comments, raising an eyebrow at you.
You're surrounded by handsome men who have cat ears. You might as well take advantage of that, right?
You raise an eyebrow back at Sylus, leaning against the doorframe. "Why do you sound pouty, Sylus?"
Sylus scoffs. "Pouty? I'm not pouty."
You nod. "You sounded pouty, Sylus. No need to deny it. Maybe it's the hunger that's making you pouty," You reach out and poke his chest.
Sylus looks down, staring at your finger that's poking his chest, before slowly looking at you.
You reach up and gently pet his ears, "Come on, let's go to the kitchen. I need to make breakfast for all of you before you become even more pouty than you already are." You brush past Sylus, leaving him standing there in a trance.
"And a pinch of salt," You murmur, watching Xavier sprinkling salt into the cooking pan.
Xavier's focused on following your instructions, fearing that he's going to mess up and accidentally give you food poisoning. While you're teaching Xavier how to make breakfast, the other men are standing around in the kitchen, watching and sometimes assisting you as well.
Rafayel rubs his tummy, "That smells really good. I'm getting hungrier than I already am," Rafayel comments, now standing behind you to peek at the food sizzling in the pan.
"Don't worry, food's about to be ready," You reply, beginning to reach out to grab a plate, but Caleb beats you to it and hands the plate to you.
"Not to brag or anything, but I'm the best cook out of everyone here," Caleb says, leaning against the kitchen counter.
You pause momentarily. What does he mean by the best cook out of everyone? You're too hungry to ask questions, so you let it slide for now and begin handing out breakfast to everyone. Rafayel nuzzles his face against your neck, purring.
You squeak, tensing up. You're sensitive in your neck, and feeling him rub his face against your neck makes you feel ticklish. Rafayel pauses and stares at you curiously, amusement glimmering in his eyes.
"Thank you for breakfast, Cutie~!" Rafayel says, pinching your cheeks before walking to the dining table with his plate of breakfast.
"I helped, too, you know," Xavier interjects, his ears flattening on his head as he glares at the back of Rafayel's head. "I did well, right?" Xavier turns to you.
You giggle, gently petting his ears and nodding. "Yes, Xavier. You did really well, and I am proud of you."
Xavier's ears perk up before happily walking to the dining table with his plate of breakfast. You shake your head, turning the stove off and putting the used utensils into the sink, letting them drown in water before walking to where the others are sitting.
It's strange, you know? After living alone for some time, and having guests over here and there, it's strange to sit and dine with more than one person in your own home. You're used to the chomping and meowing from your cats, but now your cats are human men.
You watch them while they eat the breakfast you and Xavier cooked together. The way they use cutlery wasn't clumsy, nor did it seem foreign to them. It's almost like they were always human, and never a cat before today. They're chattering among themselves, sometimes looking over in your direction to see if you're eating.
"Are you alright? You're not eating your breakfast," Zayne says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Are you not hungry around this time?"
You rub the back of your neck. "I'm alright. I'm still processing the fact that the five cats I adopted are all human-cat hybrids in front of me right now, having breakfast with me," You reply before taking a bite of your toast.
"You'll get used to it the more time passes. I know it's a shock, and I apologize that it happened so suddenly. We didn't expect to turn back into humans so soon." Caleb says, wiping his lips with the napkin.
'It happened so suddenly,' Caleb says. So this isn't the first time they turned into humans? Or a cat? A million questions pop up in your head as you continue to eat your breakfast.
"What's going on in that noggin of yours, [Y/N]? If you have any questions for us, we're willing to answer them," Caleb says, crossing his arms over his chest. "We have nothing to hide."
Immediately, your breakfast is forgotten because you have a lot of questions that need to be answered. You asked, and they answered quite willingly, and they're very transparent with you.
They're originally human, but something happened—they don't know what exactly—and poof! They turn into cats for who knows how long before randomly turning back into humans. Well, a human cat hybrid.
"Wait, so, whenever I'm not home, do you guys turn into humans while I'm away?" You ask, collecting the empty plates. "How does this all work?"
"It happens randomly. Before today, there was only one incident where we all turned into humans while you were away at work. But we didn't stay as humans for long. It lasted five hours," Sylus replies.
"And you guys were already clothed every time you switched from cat to human?" You ask, turning the sink on to start washing the dishes.
"Yes, we're clothed whenever we're human," Caleb answers, raising an eyebrow at you and giving you a knowing look.
You ignore the look Caleb throws in your direction, mentally sighing in relief. Thank goodness you don't have to worry about coming home to see naked cat-men in your house. Imagine if they were naked the entire time and waking up to that. You certainly do not want to wake up to seeing abs and penises—although, you're not against seeing abs.
They're handsome, tall, and they most likely have a really nice physique. You don't need to see them butt-naked to know they're fit. You can see their physique underneath the tuxedos they're wearing.
Rafayel points an accusing finger at you. "What's with that look on your face?"
"Nothing!" You immediately say, immediately doing the dishes as fast as you possibly can, making yourself busy, or else Rafayel and the others will notice your strange behavior. Well, Rafayel is already speculating.
Zayne stands beside you, taking his gloves off. You continue washing the dishes, but you slowly look at Zayne from the corner of your eyes, watching him take his gloves off. Oh. Oh, my.. he has nice hands too.
"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to act normal.
Zayne reaches for the extra sponge and begins lathering it up with dish soap. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm helping you wash the dishes," Zayne replies, grabbing a random plate in the sink and starts scrubbing the dirty plate.
"Why don't I join in to help as well? We can't have you doing the dishes yourself. After all, you did cook breakfast for all of us, with the help of Xavier," Caleb says, now standing on your left side, sandwiching you between him and Zayne.
Zayne's ears flatten on his head, his tail poofs up and begins swaying side to side. Caleb takes his gloves off, grabs a freshly washed plate, and begins drying them with a clean rag. A low rumble emits from Zayne's chest; it's low enough for you not to hear it, but loud enough for Caleb and the others to hear.
Thanks to Zayne and Caleb, the dishes were washed and dried faster than you expected. Usually, it would take you around, maybe, almost five minutes to wash the dishes, but Zayne and Caleb made it significantly faster.
You walk to your couch, but Rafayel intercepts you. It's like he came out of nowhere. Rafayel throws his arms around you, rubbing his cheeks against yours while walking backwards towards the couch. Once the back of his knees touches the couch, Rafayel falls back, pulling you down with him.
"You're no different from your cat-self, Rafayel," You comment, looking up at Rafayel.
"Well, duh, no matter what species I am, I'm still me," Rafayel says as if that's the most obvious thing in the world.
Shadows fall over you and Rafayel, making you two look up to see Zayne, Sylus, Xavier, and Caleb glaring down at you two—mainly at Rafayel. Sylus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while his tail is wagging behind him, signifying that he's quite annoyed with what's in front of him.
Sylus clears his throat. "For once, can you not hog her for yourself?" Sylus hisses, now fully glaring at Rafayel.
Rafayel huffs. "What? I'm an affectionate cat, uh, person. Am I not allowed to show love for the woman who allowed me into her home?" Rafayel retorts, his tail bristling behind him.
Xavier glares at Rafayel. "You're not the only one she allowed you into her home, Rafayel. It's not fair if you try to keep her for yourself while the rest of us are third-wheeling."
You laugh nervously, sitting up and patting Rafayel's head before getting off of Rafayel, much to his dismay. Sometimes you forget that cats are territorial creatures, but they're human now! That's different, right? Again, Rafayel proved you otherwise by clinging to you like how he would when he's still a cat.
A strange noise emits from Rafayel, Sylus, and Xavier, the same noise that the others heard whenever Caleb decided to help you and Zayne do the dishes. Instead of it being loud enough for only the ones with feline ears to hear, you hear it as well.
"Guys?" You say, looking at the five of them cautiously.
You've never seen them behave this way, and when you do, it's not nearly as bad as whatever this is. Yes, you've seen Zayne swatting at Rafayel with his paws. Yes, you've seen Sylus hissing at Caleb after you gasp when Caleb pushes your trinkets off your desk. Yes, you've seen Xavier pouncing off of Sylus whenever he has zoomies.
"Let's not fight, you guys. Let's play some games instead!" You try to change the subject.
You get up from the couch and walk over to the cat toys lying around the living room. You grab a feather wand and turn to the five men, who are now staring at you, unamused.
Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose, his tongue poking out of his lips. "Sweetie, do you really think we'll play with cat toys as humans?" Sylus asks, now crossing his arms over his chest.
You shrug. "I don't know. It wouldn't hurt to test it out, now, would it?"
You slowly wave the wand in front of you, watching everyone's reaction closely. At first, you didn't get a reaction out of any of them. But the longer you wave it around, almost swinging it at this point, their feline instincts start to gradually kick in.
Their eyes are trained on the feather wand, heads moving in sync, tails wagging, ears twitching with anticipation. A smile creeps up your face, and you wave the wand up in the air, causing their heads to jerk back without taking their eyes off their targets.
It's pretty cute, you can't lie. Grown men with cat ears on their heads, denying the fact that they won't be entertained by cat toys, only to be entertained by something they refused to acknowledge. The longer you wave and twirl the wand around, the more they start to become restless.
Xavier lunges towards you, trying to swat at the feather wand. You snort, waving it away from Xavier. Xavier's ears flattened on his head when he failed to touch the cat toy you're teasing them with.
"You're going to have to be faster than that, Xavie," You sing, now twirling around with the wand before prancing around the living room with the others now on your tail.
Caleb chuckles, shaking his head. "You're having fun with this, aren't you?" Caleb asks, not taking his eyes off his target.
"I can say the same for you guys," You snort.
One by one, they all start lunging in your direction, trying to get a hold of the feather on the wand. It's hilarious and fun to see their feline instincts take over, but it's also a little terrifying because these men are 6'0-6'2 and they're throwing themselves at you—well, the wand.
Zayne stops in the middle of it all, sighing. "Let's all stop before someone gets hurt," Zayne says.
"Oh, lighten up, Zayne! No one's going to get hurt!" Rafayel says, successfully grabbing onto the feather wand. "I got it! I'm the winner, and you're all losers!" Rafayel smirks before sticking his tongue out at everyone.
The others around you grumble and roll their eyes. You release the feather wand, watching Rafayel wave it around and become entranced by the toy.
You snort, clapping your hands. "Congratulations on catching the toy, Rafayel. You did well," You coo, reaching up to scratch his ears, but he flinches away from your touch.
"H-Hey! Don't touch the ears!" Rafayel sputters, the apples of his cheeks turning crimson.
Your hands fall to your side. "Aw, but you're too cute to resist!" You tease, playfully pouting at the flustered Rafayel.
Rafayel huffs, dropping the cat toy and approaching you. He towers over you, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout—is he imitating you? Rafayel drops to his knees and gazes up at you. Something in you stirs, heat gradually rushing to your cheeks.
Rafayel reaches for your hand and plops it on his head. "There, you may pet my ears."
You cheer and begin petting both of his ears, catching Rafayel off guard. At first, he wants to protest and pull away because his precious ears cannot handle the amount of attention they're getting. But he loves that he's the only one receiving attention, unlike the other four, so he basks in your attention and affection.
Suddenly, Xavier's kneeling beside Rafayel, staring up at you like a kicked puppy. "Why are you giving him attention? There are four of us, too, you know? Though out of five cats, I'm the one that's neglected the most," Xavier says, frowning at you.
"Xavier, I would never neglect you," You say, reaching out to Xavier with your left hand to pet his soft ears. "You guys know that I love you all equally, right?"
"It doesn't seem like it," Xavier mutters.
Before you can respond, Xavier lurches forward and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down with him. You yelp, falling onto his lap. Xavier tightens his grip around your waist, burying his face into your neck and nuzzling his face and hair against your neck and face.
"That can't be comfortable," Caleb comments, staring at you and Xavier, his tail thumping against his legs.
Xavier huffs, gets off the ground with you still in his arms, and carries you over to the couch. Xavier collapses onto the couch and situates you on his lap. "There, now we're both comfortable. Thank you for the suggestion, Caleb," Xavier says curtly.
Xavier turns on the TV, switching to a random channel. Of course, he's hardly paying attention to what's playing on the TV. He's too busy cuddling you and making sure that the others aren't touching you. Eventually, Xavier lets you go and allows you to leave your spot on his lap, even though he's hesitant and doesn't have the heart or courage to let you go.
Just as you think you're finally free and can move around all you like, Sylus traps you in his arms like a Venus flytrap. As much as you want to protest, you're not surprised about it. As Xavier said, there are five of them, and you might as well let them have their turn in holding you.
"You adapted to us becoming human quite fast, Kitten. I'm quite shocked," Sylus murmurs, resting his chin on your head and closing his eyes.
You turn to look at Sylus over your shoulder. "Who are you calling 'kitten'? Last time I checked, you're the one with cat ears on your head." You narrow your eyes at Sylus.
Sylus stares at you, amusement glimmering in his red eyes. Instead of answering you, his response to you is a simple smirk. You huff and turn back around, resting your head on his shoulders. Damn him and that handsome face of his.
The longer you stay in Sylus's arms, the more you want to drift off to sleep. Who knew that lying on top of someone is way more comfortable than lying on your own bed? You force yourself out of Sylus's arms and crawl into the next person's arms—Caleb. Technically, you're between Caleb and Zayne. They've been waiting patiently (not really), so you might as well let both of them cuddle you, right?
It's easier to cuddle all five of them when they were cats. They're much smaller, and they can lie anywhere around or on you. You remember a few weeks into adopting them, you wake up to all five cats lying on top of you, from your chest to your toes.
Now that they're human for who knows how long, cuddling with all five of them is a bigger challenge. They can toss you whenever they please, and they can scold the other person for hogging you and not giving them the opportunity to cuddle with you.
"I'm not making you feel uncomfortable, am I?" Zayne murmurs into your ears, curling up against you.
You shake your head. "You're fine, Zayne. No need to worry."
Caleb peeks at Zayne, "Having you this close to me makes me feel uncomfortable. But since [Y/N] is in between us, I'll give you a pass for now. Even though I would much rather have her for myself," Caleb sighs.
Zayne ignores Caleb's comments and proceeds to cuddle you, wrapping his arms around your waist, but slightly retracting after feeling Caleb's arms around your waist. The tip of Zayne's tail thumps against the couch, feeling mildly irritated.
"Yeah, I'm not happy about it either," Zayne grumbles, his cheek resting on top of your head.
Caleb ignores Zayne's comment and continues to press himself against you, almost like he's trying to become one with you. His tail wraps around your wrist as he nuzzles his nose against yours before rubbing your face with his hair and ears.
"You're very soft, warm, and comfortable," Caleb purrs, closing his eyes in contentment, putting all of his weight on you.
You grunt, patting his head. "So are you, but you're crushing me, Caleb."
The entire day consists of you and everyone else lying on the couch, doing absolutely nothing aside from watching TV, occasionally chatting, and taking lots and lots of naps. You know that cats sleep a lot, but you didn't think most of their feline instincts and behaviors would transfer to their human forms.
An hour or two passes by, and you wake up from your nap to get a drink of water because your throat is dry and you need to go pee. Once that's over with, you open the door to see all five of them standing outside the bathroom door, waiting for you.
"You guys aren't napping?" You mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you brush past them to walk back to the living room.
"How can we nap when you're not with us?" Zayne murmurs, walking beside you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you towards the couch, pulling the blanket over both of you.
You gesture to his and the other's tuxedo. "Are you guys comfortable wearing that all day? Does it not get suffocating at one point?"
Xavier shrugs. "Yeah, it does feel a little restricting. Why'd you ask?"
You tap your chin, nodding. "Maybe I'll buy some clothes for you guys later. I do need to take some measurements."
Totally not an excuse for you to see how big they are in certain areas of their bodies. You want to buy them clothes that accurately fit their bodies! Though loose clothing is good too, because they can freely move around without feeling their clothes clinging to their bodies.
"Sweetie, there's no need for measurements. Is this an excuse to touch us?" Sylus asks, raising an eyebrow while smirking at you.
Heat rushes to your cheeks. "Of course not! Do you guys want clothes that accurately fit your bodies, or would you like to guess and accidentally buy something that's way too big or small for your bodies?" You huff, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Totally not an excuse," Rafayel snorts, rolling his eyes before plopping down beside you and resting his head on your lap. "Whatever you say, Cutie. If you want to touch me, nothing's stopping you." He nuzzles his head against you, grabbing your hand and placing it on his head to stroke his ears.
"Calling me cutie when you're the one with cat ears on your head," You mutter, lightly tugging on his ear.
The day eventually winds down, and you're all in a huge cuddle puddle with you in the dead center of it all, so everyone can be able to somehow cuddle you despite the long limbs getting in the way. The show playing on your TV becomes white noise as you drift to sleep. The last thing you feel before stepping into your dreams is light kisses on your face coming from every direction.
About four in the morning, you wake up to something lightly tapping your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore it, but the tapping persists before a loud—
"MEOW!"
—wakes you up from your slumber. You jolt and look to see Rafayel, in his cat form, sitting in front of your face, his head tilting to the side, staring at you intently. You look around, assuming you'll see the human versions of your cats, but no, they're back to their cat forms.
"Aw, and to think I was going to be able to measure you guys," You mumble.
Zayne rubs his head against your arm, pressing himself against you. Xavier crawls into your lap and lies there, closing his eyes. Sylus sits close to your feet, licking his paws before pouncing on you, making you yelp. Caleb's lying beside your head, licking your face to comfort you.
"Meow," Sylus says, sprawling out on your chest.
Maybe next time—no idea when—you'll be able to take measurements of each man to buy them clothes if and when they turn back into humans. But for now, you'll have to get used to the constant changes in their species.
"MEOW!" Rafayel protests, swatting at your face with his paws.
"Ow! Rafayel! It's too early for breakfast!"
"MEOW! MEOW!" Rafayel screams in your face, rubbing his head against your face while purring.
You glare at Rafayel, reaching over to pet his cute little head. "Rafayel, I can't get up now. You know it's the rule not to get up if cats are lying on you," You whisper, trying not to startle the others awake.
Rafayel huffs, getting up from his spot to climb on your face. You groan as he lies on your face, kneading at your face while purring. Just when you thought you were getting used to having cats, Rafayel and the others make you doubt it.
Note: I had a great time writing this, so much so that I typed out over two thousand words a day. I usually type out a little over a thousand words a day, just so I wouldn't overwhelm myself. It's a cute and fun fic, something to make up after not posting anything for LADS in a while. I need to start brainstorming for future LADS fics cause my brain's been preoccupied with another fictional man in another franchise. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
If you’re still taking requests, could you do Oikawa+Degradation please ? Something about him calling us a dumb bitch just makes me act up 🥴🤚🏾. Thank You! And if you think you’re awkward then oh boy i don’t know what to call myself. 😂
a/n: she said radio silence for 2 weeks 🤪🤩 im really sorry about that but my exams ended today!! So I'm free to thirst my dudes. If you have requests, send em in!! ANYWAY!! ENJOY!!
Also this ask gave me massive brainrot sorry gor answering late it was amazing
THIS POST IS NSFW!! Minors do not interact or I'll bite.
warnings: BIMBO! kinda dubcon, not in my perspective, but still. Manipulation, virgin slander but actually a corruption kink, corruption kink ^^, oral (reader receiving), mentions of taking virginity, possesive behavior, heavy degrading yall
Find suna's bimbo girl here!
Find atsumu's bimbo girl here!
Find sakusa's bimbo girl here!
Find tendou's bimbo girl here!
Your best friend was a charitable, charitable man.
Wasn't that why you sat on your knees in front of him, so desperately trying to fit his cock in your mouth?
To know that this is the first time you've ever held a cock gives him a kind of thrill nothing else had given, to watch your clueless eyes as to what to do as you hold his cock, hot and heavy and foreign, an urge to take it between your lips, irresistible.
"Spit on it, pretty girl, just like that." He instructs you, as composed as ever. Long fingers threading between your hair, he gives you an appreciative pat. "What a good girl," he smiles, "she learns so quick."
~
"T-tooru?" You whisper the brunette's name, not sure if he'll hear you since he looks so immersed in the movie he's watching, eyes locked on the screen-
"Yes, baby?" Of course, he heard you. He doesn't avert his gaze to you, still focused on what's on the tv, but you know he's listening. You gulp.
Your body entangled with his, you laid between his arms as both of you faced the tv, your ass right on top of his-
"What's up, Y/N?" He now turns his gaze to you, face leaning slightly forward as his nose almost touches the top of your hair; you feel his breath against your ear. He stands so close, but it's okay; Oikawa has assured you this was normal for best friends. As well as the dark purple marks he leaves on your neck, sometimes on your chest. "They're lovebites," he says, rubbing his own neck that you've left your marks, "don't you love me?"
Of course, you do. You love him more than everything- and it's not like you dislike his lovebites, too. They feel... they feel nice. And if Oikawa said it was normal, who were you to doubt him?
"I had a- had a question." You detach your body from him, the loss of warmth and the feeling of him making your body tremble. Or maybe it's the anxiousness of what you're about to ask.
You turn around to face him, coming face to face with the soft trails of pink and red you placed on his neck (he always gets the loudest when you kiss his neck), and as always, he doesn't have a shirt on.
"Uh-huh," Oikawa raises a brow questioningly, pretty eyes narrowing with annoyance, "on with it, already." He knows how much you struggle with words, his dumb little girl, but it's okay, he can wait for your little brain to form sentences.
You turn your gaze to your fingers, tracing shapes on the sheets of his bed. You look so embarrassed; Oikawa can't help but get excited. "I have a- uhm, date tomorrow."
You admit, missing the slight frown that sits on his pretty lips.
"But I don't know how to- I mean,-" you bite your lip, your gaze so innocent and pretty as it meets his eyes, trying to gather the courage to- "How do I please a man?"
Oikawa almost chokes on his own spit, trying to hide it with a series of fake coughs. "You what now?"
"Y-you heard me!" You protest, bottom lip slightly wobbling as you have to repeat it, to your horror, maybe even explain, "how do I- umm, you know."
"I don't, actually." Oikawa raises his brows at you, smiling cruelly and relishing in how you avoid his gaze, how utterly embarrassed you stand before him. "You mean how to fuck better-?"
"No!" You exclaim, a little too fervently; it has Oikawa's grin spreading wider on his lips. "N-not that, but- uhm, blowjob, maybe-?." You finally speak the words, closing your eyes and fisting your hands; as if closing your eyes would pull you from the situation.
"You're asking me how to give a blowjob?" Oikawa repeats your question, almost about to laugh before he realizes what this means. "Wait," his eyes grow impossibly wide, a feeling of burning excitement washing down his back, "don't tell me you've never given a blowjob before."
Fucking hell, there's no way you-
Your gaze widens in embarrassment, like a dear caught in headlights, mouth opening, and closing to say something, deny it, but can't. You can't lie, not to Oikawa. "D-don't say it like that!" You say, instead.
you are.
It feels like the discovery of a century, Oikawa can't contain his excitement, a twisted one, as he leans forward, cupping your chin and tilting it up to meet your gaze better as he stands a breath away from your face. His smile wide and predatory, you wonder if you said something wrong.
"But it's true, isn't it?" He whispers, a smug smile almost kissing your lips. "Has anyone ever even touched you before?"
The question makes you whimper, you want to avoid his burning gaze but he wouldn't let you. "No." He finally get his answer, and oh- fuck, he's getting hard.
"You're a virgin?" He repeats, but it sounds more like an amusing fact he just discovered.
His thumb traces your bottom lip, swiping over it in a lustful motion, watching the way your eyelids flutter with excitement. The only light source in the room is the one from the tv; it shadows on Oikawa's pretty face- not, however, enough for you to pick up the predatory tilt of his lips.
You feel a lustful warmth bloom in the pit of your stomach, this feels d-different, but it's nice, exciting, your mouth falling agape as hot, shallow breaths fall.
You wait for a kiss, you really think he might- might kiss you, Oikawa pulls back, falling deaf to your needy whine.
"Pretty girl," he sighs, thumb caressing your cheek, almost as if what you're asking is too much. "Hasn't anyone told you guys don't like virgins?"
It takes you 4 seconds to process the words.
"Wh-what?" You gasp, oh, your eyes are getting glassy, too, what a prize to see. "But-"
"You didn't tell him you're a virgin, did you?"
You shake your head no; you look so sad all of a sudden; he probably should feel bad. But it isn't Oikawa's fault you're so dumb. "Only you, 'ru."
Fucking hell, how can you pick the one answer that'd make him want to ruin you even more? All he wants to do is to pry your legs open and fuck you till you pass out, and fuck how amazing would you look with his dick in your cunt, your face smushed against that table, drooling like the dumb bitch you are.
He should- he should control himself. Just for a few more minutes, just until he has you in the trap.
"Good- he would've left you immediately!" Oikawa laughs lightly, as if he's not telling you how insecure you should be by being a virgin. "You can't tell anyone that, okay? No one would want to take a girl's virginity; it's so much work, you know."
He says nonchalantly as you stare at him with a wide, helpless, broken gaze. "Tooru, but what am I- what am I gonna do?"
You sob, trying to be subtle about wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes when Oikawa coos at you, pulling you to his chest. "Shh, shh," he coos, hand coming up to pat the top of your head. "Okay, pretty baby, don't worry, I'll help you."
As he says that, you feel the pads of his fingers trace the skin of your tighs, right where the hem of your short little skirt ends.
"I should show you how it should feel like first," he breathes into your ear, voice just slightly strained, "so you can make me feel the same."
When you nod, he chuckles.
"What a pretty skirt," he laughs as his touch trails higher on your leg, now bordering on the soft material of your panties. "Wore just for me? Did you plan this from before, Y/N?" He teases, watching closely to see your reaction.
"N-no! I promise I haven't-"
"Of course, you havent," Oikawa rolls his eyes, "my dumb little baby, you're not smart enough to think this far, are you?"
You would've protested in any other circumstance, but he aligns the time he spits the words with when his long fingers push your panties aside, the tip of his finger grazing your folds.
Even the slight touch of him has you squirming on his lap, your head falling on his shoulder when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the softest circles.
"Fuck, you're so sensitive," he groans, wondering if you can feel his cock pressing against your ass. Even with one finger, he has you moaning his name. "So wet, too. Just like a fucking whore- do you hear yourself?" Oikawa laughs at you, mocks you, relishing in the way you get embarrassed over the wet sounds you make, the way you moan his name.
You press your face on his neck, trying to hide your humiliation, the drool trickling from the corners of your lips leaving trails against his skin. "'m not a- mmh! Not a whore!" You muster out as he finally slides a second finger in your pussy, his thumb still circling your clit and making you squirm, jump on his lap that he has to hold you down. "Mmh- 'ru! That feels- h-ah!"
You squirm so cutely, jumping over his lap, rubbing yourself right on his cock and making his breaths fall shallow, as well. "You like this, pretty girl? Like how my fingers feel in you? Have you ever done this yourself?"
The question catches you off-guard; you heave hot breaths against his neck when his free hand grabs you by the hair, pulling with enough force to have you face him. Your eyes rolling back I your head, mouth open like a dumb girl, a silly expression settling on your features.
"Answer me." He spits, he sounds so- so demanding, you don't know what washes over you as you find yourself answering. "Y-yes."
"You do?" He smiles darkly, chuckling at your embarrassed gaze. "You're not as innocent as I think you are- you really are a needy little bitch."
You shake your head no, but why did you squeeze his finger so tight just then?
"Don't be- don't be mean, Tooru." When you- when you say that while his fingers stuff you full, Oikawa thinks you're doing it on purpose.
"Sorry, sorry," he laughs when he hears how your voice shakes. "Forgot how much of a crybaby you were. A stupid little girl, letting her best friend fuck her- don't you feel any embarrasment?"
You're getting close, he can feel it. Oikawa picks his pace, laughing when your voice gets louder, moans turning into short screams, mouth falling open as your tongue lolls out and eyes close- you look lost in bliss.
"'ru, Tooru, Tooru!" You chant his name like a prayer, your muscles tightening with what's coming, toes curling, your body putty over his lap, melting into his embrace as he fucks you dumb on his fingers. "You feel that? Come on scream my name, baby, scream my name, tell me who's making you feel this good."
"You- Tooru you make me- mmh, you make me feel so good, please!"
"Cum for me then, pretty girl." He whispers and you're cumming, body shaking and spamming violently as he holds you down, pressing you on his chest, letting you ride the orgasm out.
You stay like that, molten into him and a heaving, stupid mess for a while as he pulls his fingers out from beneath your skirt, making sure you watch him as he brings his digits to his mouth.
"Mmh-" he smiles, "tastes delicious."
You whimper.
He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours, giving you a taste of yourself. "Are you okay?"
You nod, you seem to have pulled yourself back together from the mind-breaking orgasm as your eyes sparkle with hunger.
"M-my turn?" Your gaze falls lower on his lap, widening at the sight of the tent straining his sweatpants. "Your turn." He nods, opening his legs to give you better access.
You look excited as you bend forward, placing yourself snug between his legs. As you settle on your knees, Oikawa takes a shaky breath when your fingers grab his print from over his sweatpants.
"What am I..." you raise your clueless gaze, unsure of what to do with that thing in your hands. "Should I- um, take it out?"
Oikawa smiles down at you, it's the kind that gives you shivers. "Look at you, a dumb clueless girl- take it out, baby." He whispers against your lips. "Let me teach you how to please a man."
He'll teach you everything, you don't have to worry. He just has to ruin you enough to make you forget that unnecessary man's name. You belong to him now- he'll make sure to carve your insides just for his dick- enough to have you a babbling mess, enough to have you blabbering his name and nothing else.
Would you make one with a mean atsumu please? 👉🏻👈🏻
I hope you are having a nice day! (Or night)
a/n: hi! omg thank you for the request and reading ahhsh this is my first ask so I'm excited, I hope you like it!
This post is NSFW! Minors do not interact or I'll bite you.
warnings: mean atsumu, bimbo reader, mentions of fucking kiyoomi sakusa ™️, mentions of Atsumu masturbating, humiliation is something I cant stop writing about, dacryphilia, name calling, cumming on face, cum eating, thank you for coming to my Ted talk.
Find the sakusa version here!
Find the suna version here!
Find the atsumu version here!
You were never good with numbers.
Especially when it came to remembering them.
It was unfair how pretty you looked standing in the doorway, Atsumu thinks (and right when he was thinking about you, too). Your eyes wide and mouth agape with confusion as it took you a good while to puzzle the pieces together.
Oh.
Your eyes wander unconsciously over the view in front of you; of Atsumu, who lais over the sheets of his hotel bed, body glistening with a sheen layer of sweat, naked other than the dark-blue colored briefs he has pulled under his cock, his balls spilling over it.
You don't notice the way his hand grips his cock even harder when he sees you, your nightgown on your body not doing much to preserve your decency.
Neither of you can talk as his pants and groans are the only things that fill the silence, the blonde not looking the slightest bit of embarrassed as he lets go of his hard, leaking cock, licking the precum off his thumb.
You, on the other hand, looked more than just embarrassed, horrified, and aroused- you gulp audibly as you watch the man stand to his feet, his honey-colored eyes glinting with something predatory.
All your senses tell you to run, get away- but it's the small part of you that keeps you in your place, that part that has always wondered how it would feel like to have Atsumu's cock in your mouth.
"What are ya doing here?" He sounds so cold, so mean- you hate to admit it makes you rub your legs together.
Atsumu's voice sends goosebumps down your spine, warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach as you watch him walk to you. Every part of him naked for you to see, Atsumu's muscles that he had spent years on contract with his every step, his sculpted body you've found yourself thinking about as you had your fingers buried in yourself, causing you to take a deep few breaths, his cock bouncing against his stomach making you bite back a moan.
The realization that he's expecting an answer dawns a little too late at you; only when he reaches you, Atsumu sends you an insulting glare. "Why are ya in my fuckin' room?"
"I- I'm really sorry, Atsumu!" You squeak when he towers before you; he always had a way of making you feel so small when he was around. "I didn't- I mean, I wasn't... I mixed the room numbers!"
It takes you a few tries to get the sentence right, and fuck, does Atsumu love seeing you this helpless. When you lower your gaze in shame, but all you can see is his cock standing proud against his abdomen, which makes you panic even more. You finally focus your eyes on the door.
"Y-ya m-mixed them?" The blonde mocks you, lips curled into a cruel smile as his hand comes up to grip your chin, pushing it to force you to face his gaze. Your glassy eyes make his cock twitch against his skin. "Are you sure?"
You just give the most amazing reactions, like when you jump in your place as he forms the question, only to make you more humiliated and more humiliated you become. "Y-yes, of course, I'm sure! I didn't mean to barge into your room when you were-"
When you gasp as you realize what you're saying, Atsumu smiles widely. "When I was what?" He leans forward, almost enough to has his lips touching yours, but not quite. "When I was stroking my cock? Masturbating? Jacking-off?"
You bite your lip, you look so horrified. Do you have any idea what the sight of your teary eyes and quivering lips are doing to him?
"Yes," you whisper embarrassedly, "I'm sorry- I'll act like this never happened, I wasn't coming to your room and-"
"'a know ya weren't coming to my room," Atsumu's eyes narrow at you, "ya think I can't hear everything happening in Omi's room?"
It's so cruel, so wrong how that alone makes you clench around nothing. So all those nights Atsumu could hear-
"Ya think I can't hear Kiyoomi fucking ya every night? Ya think I can't hear your moans, your screams and your stupid blabbering, just because of some cock? Ya think I didn't hear him telling ya he was tired today, how ya whined and begged him like a little bitch to fuck ya senseless,"
You try to intervene by protesting, but his hands grasping your face squeezes tight, squishing your cheeks to prevent you from speaking.
"begging for some cock," he keeps on, "any cock 'cause yer too much of 'a whore who can't fall asleep without some cum shot down her throat?"
"You think," he whispers, his breath against your lips makes your eyes flutter closed, his chest brushing against yours, making you tremble. "ya think I can't her ya moan my name when yer coming?"
"A-atsumu-" you choke his name when his hand slides down your ching to your neck, his calloused hands touching the bare skin. "Yes, just like that," he chuckles darkly, "you moaned my name just like that."
Oh, and now you're crying. What a pathetic little girl. It might make him cum on the spot.
"Tell me I'm wrong," he dares you with a cruel smile, his hand once again closing around his cock, tip red and angry, precum oozing out, and- oh, you're drooling. "Tell me you're not a dumb little slut who doesn't need someone to fuck her to sleep, and I'll be nice."
Your eyes focused on his hand sliding up and down his cock, making more precum leak out, cock twitching beneath his touch, and you can feel your slick sliding down your tighs.
"Answer me," he growls, pulling you from your trance, "or you don't get to taste."
"I am!" It makes you blurt out almost immediately, and it's your panicked, sobbing voice that has him tipping off of the edge. Atsumu groans a choked moan. "Nothing but a pretty little face and a wet mouth, aren't ya? Get on your knees, stupid girl." He orders, curt and simple for your small brain.
When you obey, getting on your knees and looking up at him, eyes wide and teary, begging for a taste, he sneers meanly at you. "Open wide," Atsumu tells you, golden eyes looking cold and unforgiving.
You do as he says, opening your mouth as much as you can to take his cock in your throat- so big, even half of it will make you choke. The thought alone gives you shivers of pleasure.
You want him in your mouth, you want him to fuck your face, use you like a whole and nothing else, make you gag around his length and swallow his cum-
But he doesn't do any of that.
Instead, Atsumu watches your pathetic face long for his cock, trying to get him in your mouth, gasping and whining when he slaps your face away. It's so amusing how needy you are for a taste, how you cry as he jerks off in front of your face, so close- yet never enough.
He even taps the tip of his cock on your cheek, smearing the precum on your skin damp with tears, of tears he made you cry-
fuck, he's cumming.
"Pwease," you beg at him as you watch his hand pick up the pace, giving his last sloppy pumps as his balls contract, "pwease, cum in ma mouf!"
You close your eyes just in time as something hot and slimy shoots on your face, his groans and moans heavenly, and you think you might be cumming as well, his cum running down your face to your open mouth to finally have you taste him.
"Good- ah- good fuckin' girl." Atsumu pants, his hips still bucking forward as he pumps his still-hard cock for the last drops, smearing the tip on your lips to give you more. "You really are a whore." Atsumu laughs as he looks down at your dress, the part pressing against your cunt damp with your wetness.
You're still crying as his fingers run around your face, collecting his load from your skin and pushing his fingers through your lips to feed them to you. And you're so eager, to have him all, everything he can give to you- he might be getting hard again.
"Shh," he rubs your tears away with a wicked smile, eyes fluttering closed and mouth hanging open, "Be a good girl for me, and I might give you that good nights fuck."
sukuna had always found his bitchy student council president hot, especially when you're pointing fingers at him. he convinces himself that you'll be the perfect brat when beneath him— but what happens when he finds out that you're all bark and no bite? the esteemed president, actually an inexperienced princess.
♡ ₊˚‧ sweetheart. this was commissioned by anonymous <3
"And then she blocked me!"
"Eh. Deserved."
"Excuse me? Who could ever say no to these baby blues?"
"Blue eyes on a rat don't change a thing now does it?"
Rolling his eyes to the air vents, Sukuna shut his locker in a rattle of metal. Shuffling his duffel bag over his shoulder, he side-stepped to thump the whining, white-haired nuisance beside him with a broad shoulder.
"Kunnnaaa, he's being mean to me," pouted Satoru, throwing an arm over his shoulders and squeezing on his bicep in that not-so-subtle way.
"Well for one, maybe stop sharing your love life with Fushiguro of all people." Sukuna reached a hand out, snatching his friend by the back of his pearly white tresses and wrenching him off. "And secondly, off."
"Don't you love me anymore? Is there someone else? Am I— gasp—" trembling his hands, Satoru raised them to his mouth. Exaggerating his eyes in what he probably thought was cute. "Am I the other woman?"
"More like a skank." Toji grinned, immediately side-stepping a hit that came his way.
Sukuna sighed, deep from his soul that had grown weary dealing with the dumb-and-dumber duo he called his friend group. Unfortunately these knuckleheads were also apart of his team. Guess this was fate.
The hallway bustled with a stream of college stereotypes. The preps and their perfect palettes, prattling as they pranced around. The stoners who propped against lockers on the far end of the hallways, zoned out and scrolling. The nerds with their arrogant stares, standing upright as they beelined for their next class, somehow avoiding collision even with a textbook wedged in their hand. Everyone had their role in this academic ecosystem and moral wasteland.
Role. Stereotype. Stigmatism. Sukuna never quite understood it. How most people plopped themselves into a box with a poorly-scribbled label on the front and called it home.
By definition, he was a jock. Captain of the college's star rugby team. With mean eyes and rough hands. Where girls swooned, guys were scared.
No one expected the jock to be an engineering major. Guess that's the assumption when your enrolment in an institution relied on a sports scholarship.
"Engineering," he remembered how a pretty girl from finance batted her eyes at him in surprise. "Wouldn't have expected that from you."
Sukuna always rolled his eyes at that. And what would anyone expect of an engineering student? Someone more put-together, refined, with a pair of fogged-up glasses and maybe a tight fitting button-up?
He'd never understand it.
"Hey you three, quit loitering."
But he always understood that smooth voice.
He could already see it from his peripheral. Your creaseless blazer shining your badge proudly. The pencil skirt that was exactly three fingers above the knee. Your hair fixed appropriately without a strand straying. The school's code of conduct glinted in your eyes.
Another one who fit her role perfectly. The pretty student council president.
"Oh c'mon, prez. It's end semester." Satoru cooed, still finding the audacity to lean against one of the lockers despite the reprimand.
You stopped. Shoes placed exact centre on the grey tiles as you shot the delinquent a look. "The end of the semester is Friday. It's Monday."
Satoru grinned, pushing hand through his hair. "Always sooo dutiful. Lighten up a lil."
Sukuna heard it before you said it. Saw the trail of your eyes before you had even darted your gaze to their mess of uniforms. Satoru's blazer was tied around his waist. Toji was missing his entirely. Sukuna's belt hung low. Don't even get started on all three of their hairstyles that broke at least four regulations.
Yeah, delinquent was putting it lightly.
Sukuna was already mouthing your reprimand before it left your lips.
"Fix yourselves." Calm and controlled, coupled with that glare in your eye as you folded your arms. "Lest I file a complaint in the register."
"Over what? Looking good?" Toji teased.
You huffed. Snapping your sharp stare over to Sukuna who was all but waiting for it. Red eyes held yours in nonchalance. With a hint of something dangerously close to amusement. Admiration.
"You're the captain of the rugby team. Be an example to your teammates, Ryomen."
Oh, there's that tone he loved. That strict, smooth command that sent a shiver up his spine. He bit back a smirk.
Yeah, you all had your roles. And yours was maintaining order and, by the looks of it, eye-fucking him in the middle of the hallway.
"Yes Ma'am." He nodded, pushing himself from the locker to stand at his full height. Towering over you just to see if you'd flinch.
You didn't, of course. You never did. You held his stare with an arched brow and your chin never downturned. That's what he liked about you. A bold brat through and through.
"C'mon you two. One last class before practice." Sukuna nudged at Satoru's shoulder who was a little too preoccupied with the sliver of your thigh peeking out of your skirt. The sight clenched Sukuna's jaw, but he bit back comments in favour of wrangling dumb-and-dumber.
Halfway down the hallway, and yet, he could still feel your eyes. Pierced into his spine. He couldn't help but shoot you a glance over his shoulder. Meet that controlled stare that always rivalled his.
Guess it's the one time he let the stereotypes get to him. He wondered how much you'd keep up that bratty beauty if he had you under him.
The thought of you had grown from annoyance to arousal months ago. The perfect president with her commands as sharp as crystal and her glare prettier than them. Always proper. So poised.
He wondered what it'd take to break that little attitude.
Although, if he's being entirely honest. He was kinda into those mint manicured nails that always pointed at him. Not to mention that stare? How you tried to pretend that it never lingered on him?
He saw you again at practice. Even with the sun glaring his vision and his throat burning for water. Sweat dripping down his forehead as he chugged down a bottle.
You were impossible to miss. Even in his exhaustion. Strutting along the outer corridor. Probably on your way to file in reports while others called it a day.
He caught your stare, as he always did. Felt it creeping up his back and shoulders.
Just like in the hallway, he shot you a look. Locked eyes. Only this time, he cast you a little grin.
You turned away. Like the stubborn brat he was hopelessly attracted to.
Nothing beat the rush of a whistle whipping through the air and a successful try on the final second. 50 - 46. Another win by the skin of their teeth.
The cheers of the stadium, the flashing lights, the bruised and battered arms of teammates that tossed around each other as an excited roar ripped through haze. Yeah, nothing beat that.
Well, the celebration that came after was a close second.
Stars of the league once more, Sukuna's team was treated to relax. He'd say for once, but other than training, his band of misfits hardly did much. Slacking-off was their everyday. But at least they'd earned it this time.
The blaring cheers had blurred out into the blast of music. Rhythm and beat vibrating the college assembly hall cleared out just for them. Littered in bodies and alcohol. The coach saw to them well, organised everything with the student council beforehand since he never doubted the team once.
Flashing lights. Grinding bodies. More booze than a Shibuya pub. Sukuna migrated through, his sharp shoulders finally sagged. Spotting some of his teammate with either their tongues down throats or chugging down red solo cups still floating beer pongs.
Steering through the crowd and shrugging off a drunk Satoru who tried to harass him as per-usual, he searched for the drink table. He was far too sober for this celebration. Shitfaced and slurring was what he wanted to be by the end of the night. He deserved it for being able to wrangle the hooligans he called teammates all semester.
And then, he felt it. That stare creeping up his spine.
He glanced to the left and sure enough— there it was. Calm and collected. Calculated even out of that blazer pressed with pristine in every inch. A black dress hugged and complimented your features far better. Certainly more than three fingers above the knee. Not so dignified with a drink in your hand.
Not even your posture was refined— you leaned against the drink table. One arm still folded over you, shoulders still squared.
You stare still on him.
Oh, his night just got a whole lot better.
"How irresponsible, prez." Drawled Sukuna as he stepped up beside you. Snatching one of the cups into his large hand and propping himself next to you.
Deep maroons roved your figure. The curves and dips in all the right places. Damn, he was almost jealous of that dress.
His head quirked with the corner of his lips. "It's a good look on you."
"Don't start." You scoffed a chuckle, raising the red plastic to your lips. Was that lipstick? Red. He could get used to his favourite colour on you.
It was almost uncanny. Seeing you so relaxed. Drinking. Completely out of your element and yet still poised in every right. It thrummed something deep within him. Dark.
He watched your eyes rake over him in what he could only describe as shameless with the flashing shadows obscuring it. You asked, "shouldn't you be celebrating with your team, Ryomen?"
"Sukuna." He corrected, just to watch your eyes. Watch your shoulders that tensed all the more firmer. As if it would break conduct to call him by anything familiar.
His smirk curled higher, as he slumped back with a swig. "And nah. Not when there's a pretty girl all alone back here."
Gauging your reaction, Sukuna bit a grin into the plastic rim of his cup when he noticed you cleared your throat. Where's all that confidence now, huh?
". . .Could it be that the elusive rugby captain is flirting with me?" You mused.
Something ticked within him.
His hulking body slanted, angled towards you as he propped a forearm on the table. Watched as you turned to him, almost hesitantly.
"Could it be that the uptight princess president is entertaining me?" He returned.
Your nose curled, the lights flashed over your face just in time for him to catch the wrinkles. A smile trembled over your lips. "Princess, huh?"
"Got a problem with it?
"Watch it. I'm still your president."
"Dirty talking already?"
Sukuna watched as your breath hitched. Bickering with him often came with ease, but it was a whole different ballgame when he shifted the playing field from president and delinquent to a jock and a princess.
It was amusing, to say the least. Watching you struggle for a rebuttal. You bristled when you finally found something. Straightened your spine with that manicured finger of yours so ready to point at him as you always did—
Thump!
"What the hell!"
"Ah— sorry. Soorryyy."
Alcohol seeped into the front of your dress. Clinging to the dark fabric and permeating the shimmers. A drunken smile was your only apology.
Sukuna stood straight. Shot a glare at his wobbling teammate who'd just bumped into you and ruined that pretty dress of yours.
"For fucks sakes Fushiguro," he grunted, watching as Toji lifted his hands up in surrender and then staggered elsewhere before he could get a scolding.
Turning back to you, Sukuna watched as your jaw tightened and your hands balled at your sides. Was that a pout? Cute.
"Sorry about that," he caught himself apologising when you looked up to him with batting eyes. The light flashing over the both of you in what he could only describe as fluorescent fate.
The idea came quicker than a smother tackle.
"If you need a change of clothes. . . " he almost caught himself drawling. As he stepped forward. You didn't flinch. You never did.
But it looked like you wanted to.
"Maybe I can offer a shirt? Sure I can find one for you back in my dorm."
Your stares locked, as they always did. Rivalling, controlled. Two leaders fighting for dominance as always. Only this time, you were faltering.
He watched your shoulders sag. Your arms cross over your chest tighter. Your chin still lifted but your lips pressed in a thin line.
Sukuna would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised when you actually agreed.
You looked prettier under his cheap dorm light.
Standing in the middle of his room with your legs too pressed together and your arms folded too tight. Your stare still seeped into his shoulders as he dug through his wardrobe on the far right. Looking like a fish who willingly crawled onto land and forgot she only knew how to swim.
Sukuna's dorm wasn't anything grand. His scholarship paid for privacy, not for space. The bedroom bled into a small kitchen area on the left separated only by a small counter top. A cramped couch wedged against it. On the right was his cabinet with a door that led to the bathroom. The bed laid at the centre with a singular side-table beside it.
Small, but neat. Neater than anyone would expect some jock's room to be, he's sure.
Finally, he fished out a red shirt. He could have gone for the black, maybe the white, but that deep rouge on your lips was his favourite colour. And he wanted to see you in more of it.
"This fine?" He asked as he approached, dropping the shirt into your hands that scrambled to catch it.
You pressed your lips together. Held the clothing article up by the sleeves to observe it. Flickering your gaze between him and the red.
"It's. . . big," you murmured.
And oh, poor you. There weren't any eyes anymore to hinder him. No bubbling hallways. No delinquents and presidents.
Just a jock. And a princess.
"Well I'm a big guy, princess." His head crooked in a predatory curve as his hands shoved into his pockets. The name slipped from his tongue. Easy. As easy as it seemed to fluster you, by the looks of it.
He watched you bristle again. Chew your lip and glance at the drywall as you balled the red fabric against those once perfect manicured nails that were beginning to look like they trembled.
Cute.
"Well— yeah, that's true." You stood straight once more. Uttered something that sounded like a thank you before you shuffled to the side. Not quite putting space between the both of you. But not exactly approaching him, either.
You cast him a side eye. Brought the shirt closer like it was your new knight. Poor princess.
"Are you gonna, uh, give me a moment?"
"Not unless you want me to watch?"
Flushed. Again. Like a flustered little flower with your face blooming in heat. How odd. Where's that beautiful brat that pointed and paraded in the halls?
"What?" Sukuna drawled, taking another step forward. Towering over you as he always did. You didn't flinch. You never did.
But fuck, it might have looked cute if you did right now.
"Don't tell me that the esteemed president is actually considering it?"
His voice dripped with something other than booze. Something scarily sober. Something dangerously close to want.
Want. Yeah, he's always wanted the prestigious campus princess.
"That's— that's not what I said," you stuttered. Actually stuttered. You, the poised president with your commands as sharp as crystals and your glare prettier than them. Stuttering all because the delinquent you eagerly pointed fingers at finally got you alone.
He grinned, glinting more than the usual charm back at you. "Didn't have to, princess."
"What's with that name?"
"What?"
He was right in front of you now. Close enough to hear the stutter of your breath. Feel your nerves. The shivers. Not very perfect of you, was it?
Leaning down, Sukuna established the height difference once more. His broad shoulders casting a shadow over you as his grin loomed closer. Dangerously so.
He could smell your perfume. Cherry mixed with nervousness. Hear the stutter of your heart. Every clear of your throat as you scrambled to resurrect the status-quo. When you could stare him in the eye and shoot him a command without your knees trembling.
His murmur was low, inviting. "Seems you don't mind being my princess one bit, yeah?"
Finally, he let himself touch you. A calloused thumb stroking your cheekbone. Oddly tender. Promising something rougher.
Your eyes gaped. Wider than he'd ever seen them. Confidence drained into your wobbling knees and your hands that clung to the shirt.
He paused for the first time that night.
Watched your sorry excuse for a stare. The press of your lips. The tremor that felt foreign to your dignified strut down the college hallways. This was far from the brat he fantasised you would be when he got you alone.
Sukuna's head crooked. "What's with that look?"
"Sorry. . . . I just, uh." You chewed your inner cheek. Cute, but odd for someone like you. ". . . Haven't. Done anything like this before."
He blinked.
Spoke in that terribly stark way.
"You a virgin?"
"Must you be so blunt?"
A pink brow arched. He slowed another blink at you and watched your every move. Watched your throat bob and your shoulders sag as a shaky sigh passed your red lips. It didn't look so bold under his stare.
"Yeah— yeah I am. I don't really have time for this kind of. . . " you motioned to him and how close he was. To his hand that was now cupping your face. "Thing."
He's dealt with virgins before. Had many doe eyes and shaky hands under his belt. So why'd you go under his radar? How hadn't he noticed the signs before? He'd been so swept up by your smooth voice and controlled stare that he completely slipped the possibility that the uptight college princess was—
"Sorry if that's. Like a turn off, or something."
Your murmur cut his thoughts right off. He locked stares with you once again— or at least tried to. For once, you couldn't meet his eyes.
Sure, it wasn't what he was used to. Wasn't what he expected. But honestly?
The thought of the uptight student council president being awfully inexperienced stirred another fire within him. Something deeper. Darker.
Wouldn't it be fun to corrupt a princess?
"Hardly," he scoffed, his grin settling into an arrogant smirk as his free hand slipped down. Snatched you by the waist and dragged you against him in a rough pull.
You yelped. Dropped the shirt and scrambled your hands for the one on him instead. Damn, even the way you clung to him was pretty.
That crystal stare of yours had melted into soft edges as you batted your eyes up at him. Achingly adorable for the pain in his ass you had been for the entire semester.
Cupping your face firmer, he drew you closer. Pressing every perfect inch of you into his callouses.
His voice rumbled, "you ever kissed anyone?"
Your brows furrowed. Warmth spread through his chest at the familiar sight. There's his beautiful brat. Bristling as your fingers bunched tighter on him and you huffed.
"Obviously! I'm not that—"
His mouth shoved to yours. Rough lips sealing over your cherry ones as the hand on your waist squeezed. Feeling your softness against his jagged. Your innocence to his experience. The way you squirmed— whether trying to get closer or further, he wasn't sure. He didn't think you quite knew either.
It was funny, really. How snarky you were with that tongue of yours. Now? It trembled. Fumbled. Struggling to keep up with his kiss as he leaned into your space and flushed you into him.
Your hands slipped to the top of his shoulders. He felt your nails scratching into the skin there through his shirt. Manicure nervous where it once was confident.
The whimper was what forced him to part. Already missing your warmth as his hand on your face slipped to the back of your neck. Cupping, caressing.
"No, no. Not like that." He coaxed, dangerously soft as he peered at you through hanging lashes. His thumb traced over your pulse, reassuring. "Relax. I've got you."
He felt your body lock up against him— then ease. Felt the flutter of your heart against his and the gulp under his thumb.
No words. Just a silent stare. A small nod. Sukuna guided you back in. Still rough, but slower. His lips moulding over yours and easing you into the kiss. Giving you room to breathe. Room to feel.
The hand on your waist slipped. Arm hooking around the small of your back and hoisting you closer. Impossibly so. To feel that sigh of relief that eased out of you and the melting of your muscles.
"Atta girl," the words muffled against your lips before he could overthink them. As if it was natural to hold a pretty virgin in his hands and corrupt her with guidance. Maybe. Or maybe it was just you. The fact that he got to take control for once.
Hot kisses smeared from your mouth. Along your jaw. Down your throat. Both hands roved over your sides now. Feeling the dress that clung to you in all the right places. The body you hid under pristine uniform.
"Can't believe you were holding out on me, princess." He groaned, breath fanning your pulse. A shiver ran up his spine as your fingers delved into his messy hair. Scratching a bit on the undercut only to rake through the fluffy strands.
Your small sighs of bliss were everything to him. For once, you were quiet. No sharp reprimands. No cool commands. Just quiet. Just his. His pretty princess in his arms as his mouth poured fire into your veins.
Big hands smoothed over your hips. Venturing behind. Cupping your ass. Squeezing. Your little yelp rumbled a husked chuckle from the back of his throat.
His teeth dragged over your pulse. Nipped. "Can I?" His fingers flexed with his desire.
You nodded.
"Words." He firmed, with a small swat! to your ass just to feel you jolt again.
You squeaked. "Yes— yes."
Your thighs bundled in his hands. Fitting perfectly. Like you were made for him. With ease, he lifted you. Nudged your legs around his waist as his mouth found yours again. Hotter. Messier. Banking on your fumbling to spur the kiss into desperation as he carried you back.
Sukuna wanted to say he tossed you onto his bed. But he was gentle. Achingly gentle. Tipping you back into his sheets and roaming your shivering body with his eager hands.
He withdrew with saliva this time. Locked eyes with you to make sure you saw the sinful string. Grinned when you flushed again and tried to avert your stare.
"Eyes on me." He ushered, cupping your chin.
You struggled. You, the studious student council president, struggling to hold his eyes for once. But you managed.
He drawled. "Good girl."
Then pressed a chaste kiss to your smeared lipstick and ruined it all the way back down your neck. Tracing your shivers as his fingers slipped below your waist. Over your hips. Teasing your thighs. Until he hooked into the hem of your dress.
"Let's take care of this mess, yeah?" He muttered into the crook of your throat. Sliding the fabric up. Slow. Slower when he got to your hips. Your tummy. Your breasts— over your head. Until you were laid bare before him aside from your underwear.
Red, too.
Sukuna arched his brow. "That your favourite colour? Or is it just for me?" A hand traced down your side. Cupped it so that his thumb could trace over the corner of your bra. Right over your tit. His hands were big enough to encase them entirely.
He watched you through lidded-eyes. Watched as you tensed. As you shivered. Chewing your lip when you were unable to hurl back a rebuttal.
He could get used to this darling side of yours.
A kiss atop your breast. Then the other. He pulled one out of your bra to circle his thumb on the pebbled nipple. Only to replace it with a kiss when you grew too sensitive.
You squirmed. Whimpered. Sensitive. Guess you really were a virgin. The confirmation thrummed something dark within him. Ticked his smug smirk back to his lips that dragged further down. Over the valley of your breasts. To your tummy.
You twitched when he reached your thigh.
"Fingers or mouth?" He mumbled into the softness of your inner thigh. Long finger hooked into the waistband of your panties as he stared back up at you. "Pick your poison, princess."
"I— uhm. . ." Your breathing was shaky. Fluttered. Like a poor little bird as you squeezed your thighs together— he wedged them apart with a huff.
"Fingers. . . I think."
Such a soft croak. Nothing like the girl he knew you to be. Not a prestigious president when you were under him. Drunk on his kisses and trembling from his touches.
No, here? You were just his princess.
"Tell me what feels good," he whispered, eyes locked on yours even as you struggled to hold his stare now. Fingers slipping from the waistband to your centre. Featherlight as he stroked on your thigh. Nursed the shivers there together with his mouth in softer than expected kisses.
Before he reached your soft heat. Brushed over your clothed slit. Up, down. A small stroke of his thumb. Testing. Teasing.
The damp spot tugged his smirk wider. His thumb pressed into it. Just a little firmer. A little hotter. Stroking up to nestle under the crook of your finger. Circle just right—
You pitched a whine.
"There?" His murmur fanned your tummy. Your little nod squeezed something in his heart as he circled his thumb again. "Mmm. Y'know what that is, pretty?"
"I— Yeah. . . mnn. My clit—"
"That's right," he cooed. "Feels good when someone plays with it, huh?"
Filth dripped from every words. Sought to seep into your veins and corrupt your perfect little soul. Now wouldn't that be a sight? To taint the pinnacle of perfection you always were.
After massaging over your clothed cunt enough to soak through the fabric, he hooked two fingers into the corner of your panties. Dragged them to the side to finally— finally get a look at the other girl he'd been waiting for all semester.
Wet. Sopping. Dripping a cute little leak down your sensitive slit. All for him.
"Wet lil' thing for a virgin, aren't you?" The vibration of his voice seemed to spill more of your arousal, and he chuckled at the sight. Repeated the cycle until you squirming with a small, pitiful whine.
"I've gotcha, princess." His thumb swiped over your slick. Over your clit and slit in a slow, agonising stroke that wrecked your thighs into a squirm.
"Ryo—"
"Sukuna." His thumb trapped your clit. "I'm playing with your pussy right now. You call me Sukuna."
His free hand shot out. Ambushing your wriggles and holding you still against his mattress for his hand to work between your legs. Maroon eyes pouring heat into yours as he locked your stares. Forced you to maintain it.
"Su—" you croaked, stirring under his grip as his thumb became two fingers that stroked you oh so sinfully. "Kuna. . . mngh."
"There you go," he praised, soaking his fingers in your slick just a little more. Before he circled your slit with his index. Prodded. Tested. "If it hurts lemme know. Just. . . feel."
A kiss to your tummy. A distraction. As his thick finger slowly slipped inside. Breaching your gummy velvet that clamped around his knuckle immediately.
The sound that left you was pathetic. Nothing like the president he knew. Just his pitiful princess who squeezed her eyes shut and clambered at his broad shoulder.
He paused his hand. Waited. Feeling the pulse of your walls and the tight clamp around only one of his fingers. What a little thing you were.
"Princess," he cooed. Dragging his index out. Slow. Agonisingly slow— watching the stickiness glint on his finger before he pumped it back to the knuckle. Curled just right. "If you're clenching s'much round just one fingers how're you gonna take my dick?"
You whined. Pretty. Pathetic. Your hips trying to buck into his finger that eased into a languid pace. Steady as he worked you open. Got you used to the feeling.
So silky. So soft. Spilling all over and he hadn't even given you two yet. The sight of your pussy clenching around his knuckle grumbled a groan from deep within him.
"Pussy's so eager to get her cherry popped," he muttered, pressing another finger to your slit. Waiting, working you open. Just a little further, a little more—
Your head fell back as two of his beefy fingers slipped into you.
"S'kuna. . ." you croaked. Blinking those big eyes at his ceiling as your chest rose quick. Falling in stutters. Struggling to breathe. Your nails slipped from his shoulder to his elbow. Trying to hold him. Trembling.
"Sshhh, I've got you. Doing so good." The hand holding you down stroked up your thigh. To your side. Caressing so tenderly as his fingers pumped slow yet filthy. Stretching you out on just his middle and index. Leaking your stickiness all over his palm and wrist. Fuck.
"Messy girl." Another kiss pressed to your taut tummy. He pumped back into your squelching pussy a little harder. A little faster. When he gouged you could take it. When your moans told him you wanted more.
He observed you. The scrunch of your face. The knit of your brows and the way your lips parted. Whines mixing into whimpers mixing into moans. Thighs tense yet squirming. Into him. Away from him. Causing his fingers to bump and grind on several sensitive spots within you.
He curled. You croaked. Bucking your hips down into his palm in a display he could only describe as need. That neediness poor little virgins broke out into when they learnt what true pleasure was.
He grinned. Curled his fingers again. Searched for a spot— there.
"Fuck— there," you whined.
"Here princess? Righhttt here?" He drawled, fingers circling that gummy spot until your spine lifted off of the bed and he had to return to holding you down. "Oh, there it is." His fingers thrust. Once— twice— maddening. "That's the spot. The one that's gonna make you cum for me."
Spilling. Messily, helplessly. Your pussy soaked him with every pulse. Spasming when his thumb finally joined the mix. Flushed to your clit and stroked as his fingers found a fast pace. Pumping mercilessly and working you up to that first orgasm.
"I— 'm gonna. . . fuck, kuna—" you whimpered, teary. One hand fisting the sheets while another shot to his wrist, clinging to him feebly. "Gonna. . . I'm—"
"Gonna cum?" His grin smooched your tummy. Fingers worked faster. Stroking deadlier. Right into that spot as he swirled your clit. He watched your face. Watched you break.
"Yeah you are. Cum for me baby."
Your body bowed. Obeyed him. For once. Cunt clamping around his knuckles. Quivering into pronounced throbs as a sob crossed with a whine spilled from your lips.
Sukuna watched your body submit to the orgasm. Shaking in thralls of pleasure as your hips mindlessly ground into his hand that had long since stopped. Fingers curling and rubbing into that spot along with your pitiful grinds to ride you through your high.
His pretty president. Just a pathetic princess. Cumming all over his hand.
"There you go. That's it, just feel it. Lose yourself." He swirled your clit one more time for good measure. Just enough to feel it twitch weakly against his callous.
His fingers slipped out. Coated in your slick. He brought them to his mouth without a second thought. Watched you through the haze of your orgasm and how your eyes still tried to find his even when you were wrecked.
His tongue flicked out. Laved over your wetness as he held your stare. Made sure you watching him enjoy the mess that he had made you. The taste on his tongue. Fuck—
Sweet. So fucking sweet.
"Always knew you'd be so sweet." He huffed, breaths heaving as he took the moment to observe you. The far cry that he had broken you down into.
So pretty when you were ruined. Just as he thought you'd be.
But still speaking, it seemed.
"Sukuna. . ." you murmured, trying to look up despite your rattling thighs and your shaky breath. Your grip returned to his shoulders. Clinging to him.
"Want. . . wanna make you feel good too," your legs hooked around his waist. Squeezed. Oh fuck.
He shut his eyes. Reran your words in his hazed mind. How could he ever deny you?
"What an eager princess." His hands snatched you by the waist. Swung you over so that you squeaked at how easy it was for him to manhandle you.
Propped in his lap like a pretty thing like you should be. Slotted so perfectly and wedged against his burning bulge. Nudged just right into your messy cunt and dragging the slick all over his jeans. Seeping through and soaking into him.
His eyes fluttered. A grunt forced between his teeth as his hands splayed over your waist. Clamping down and grinding you into the rough rolls of his hips.
A large hand found your face again. Cradled it so gently while his body worked animalistically. "Yeah? Want me to feel good too? What're you gonna do for me?"
His lips fell back to yours. Smothering your answer into pretty little whines. His tongue ventured in this time. Dominating you in every way he could. Searing his mark into you. His princess. His.
"I— hngh. Kuna."
"You gonna whine like a brat? Huh?"
"Mngh."
His hand slipped behind you. Palmed your ass and squeezed it. Pressing you firm into him to spur the sparks between your crotches. Rubbing the heat into something feral until you were both bucking messily.
Hot kisses laved your neck. Over your throat. Your pulse. Sucking hickies in his wake as he caught your clit on the rift of his erection. Grinding just right until you whined his name in that prettily pathetic way again.
"Fuck," his huff fanned your jugular. "Gonna fuck that pretty pussy so good. Make her all mine."
Rough hands dwarfed yours. Encasing them as he dragged your fingers to his belt. Pressed them into the buckle with the demand clear in sight. The promise of what was to come. What he'd do to you.
Your hands froze.
So did he.
With a tender consideration so uncharacteristic of him, Sukuna pulled from your neck. Nudged you to face him. "Hey," his thumb pressed to your cheek. "You okay?"
Your eyes tried to avoid him. He saw it. Dragging your stare back to him at least three times before you finally held it again.
"I. . . I just. . . I don't know if I—"
His eyes softened.
"Nervous?" He murmured.
You stiffened. Unblinking. Before you cleared your throat and slowly, so achingly slowly, nodded your head.
Sukuna was no brute. No matter what the stereotypes said. So the little nod was all he needed before his hands slipped back to your waist and carefully pulled you off of him.
"That's okay," the assurance didn't even sound like his voice. Soft, for the elusive rugby captain everyone knew him as. "We don't have to do anything else. You did good."
A kiss to your temple. He felt you ease against him as he sat you on the edge of the bed and got up. Walked over to where you dropped the shirt he'd gotten you earlier and came back to pull it back over your head. Careful. Attentive.
The fabric fell over you. Hanging low like a dress. He couldn't help the quirk at the corner of his lips. Yeah, his colour looked good on you.
"We'll get you cleaned up in a bit. You're gonna need some water."
"I. . . thanks. Thank you."
"For being a decent human being?"
He scoffed at your big eyes. Long arms caging you in on the edge of the bed as he observed you. Your pouting lips and tear-streaked face.
Fuck. He could get used to this.
"Don't get to used to it," the tease fanned your lips. Just to hear that hitch in your breath again.
The pretty, prestigious president. His pitiful princess. All softness to his callouses and tender to his roughness.
His thumb and forefinger caught your chin. Nudged it up.
"Next time, I won't let you run away, yeah?"
A rough peck to your lips. It sounded like a threat, but when he pulled back, there was no denying it. The affection in his eyes.
The affection for you. His pretty pain in the ass.
summary: Your technique allows you to hear the thoughts of others, which you’ve spent years learning how to filter. Unfortunately, Itadori Yuuji has very loud thoughts.
warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, smut, aged up characters, mutual thirsting, idiots in lust, reader’s technique involves mind reading, poor reader is losing her mind, sooooo much fantasizing about sooo many things: fingering, oral, spit kink, dry humping, exhibitionism
notes: happy birthday, best boy! genuinely so shocked at how quickly I turned this around. literally dropped every other wip to get it up today, but anything for best boy! (btw, this will end where it ends. if you want a follow-up use your own imagination instead of asking for a second part.)
words: 2.9k
minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment
They call you the Psychic Sorcerer. Well, not they. It’s really just Gojo — or at least it’s really just Gojo to your face. Everyone else knows how much you dislike the moniker because you’re not psychic.
Your cursed technique allows you to form a telepathic connection — whether it’s with people, animals, or cursed spirits — and manipulate your target. And as part of your technique, you can see the thoughts of others, which is what psychics do, but you’re not a psychic.
Psychics look into crystal balls and read tarot cards. They claim to tell the future, speak to the dead, and exorcise spirits. Yes, you also do that last one, but you’re not a psychic. You’re a sorcerer, which you’ll admit probably sounds just as spurious to non-sorcerers…
Your technique is strong, but it’s taken you years to hone. When you were younger, you used to unknowingly slip into the minds of your playmates and the neighborhood pets, leaving them in a trance and you overwhelmed. It’s only through training and your time at Jujutsu High that you learned how to focus your technique and form a link only when you mean to.
However, there’s a part of you that thinks you’ll never be able to fully master your technique. For all your skill with it now as an adult, and after all the trial, error, and embarrassing missteps you made as a teenager, there are times when you still can’t help but pick up a stray thought if it happens to be loud enough — like two radio waves crossing.
And Itadori Yuuji’s thoughts are loud.
To be fair, most jujutsu sorcerers have loud thoughts to match their loud personalities. You particularly remember when you first met Todo and you were on the receiving end of a mental barrage of images of some idol that you faintly recalled having seen in passing before and big ass after big ass. So you’ve long made your peace with the fact that loud thoughts come with the territory.
But when you first met Yuuji during your first year at Jujutsu High, it felt like you could hear everything he was thinking — even without accounting for the curse caged inside of him. It would get so bad that you ended your days during those first weeks of knowing him feeling dizzy.
While Nobara has always been quick to project whatever irritation, excitement, or disgust she feels, her emotional flashes are quick to come but equally as quick to fade. Megumi’s unhealthy instinct to suppress everything he thinks and feels has always made him one of your favorite people to spend time with.
It’s Yuuji who thinks loudly and feels loudly around the clock. Before you learned how to filter out and block every stray thought you heard, it felt like you were constantly aware of Yuuji's status whenever he was within a few hundred meters.
You knew when he was hungry, when he was enjoying something, when he was annoyed, when he was happy, when he was excited, when he was sad, when he thought something was funny, when he had to go to the bathroom, when he didn’t understand something, when he thought a girl was hot, when he was angry, when he was in pain, when he was winning at pachinko, when he was tired.
But after so many years of training, and so many years of being his friend, his thoughts and emotions are still just as loud, but you only ever hear one if you need to in the midst of a fight — or if it’s strong enough.
And for the past few months, his thoughts have been so strong that it feels like you’re 15 all over again. It’s not all his thoughts that are strong enough to reach you against your will, just…certain ones.
The first time it happens, it’s so sudden that you feel like you’ve been hit over the head.
People assume that with your technique, you can hear every word going through someone’s mind. And while sometimes you do, people think both verbally and visually.
So, you’re not surprised when an image suddenly flashes in your head. After all, it’s a phenomenon that you’re more than used to. You are, however, surprised at the image.
Because as you’re waiting in line at a bakery to order, leaning in slightly to look at the display case of pastries, you’re suddenly assaulted with the mental picture of yourself from behind, particularly the way your dress has slightly ridden up the backs of your thighs. It’s not high enough to be obscene, only enough to hint.
And to accompany the image is a deep desire — for you to bend over further, for your dress to ride up even higher, to know what’s beneath and for it to be a thong.
You cut off the connection before you can see anymore and shoot back up to stand perfectly straight, your eyes as wide as saucers. Your heart is racing in your chest and you have to fight the urge to bury your face in your hands to hide your burning cheeks.
“Did you figure out what you want?” Yuuji’s curious voice is suddenly in your ear as he leans in over your shoulder to look at the pastry selection himself. “That ham and cheese one looks so good.”
He sounds so…unaffected, like he wasn’t just fantasizing about what your underwear looks like. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and none of it is on his face.
“Th-the pistachio one,” you mumble, distractedly pointing at the croissant in the corner of the display case.
“Oh, you’ll have to let me try a bite!” he grins, moving in even closer to look at what else the bakery has to offer, entirely oblivious to the mental breakdown he’s caused.
And that’s how it starts.
You’ll be out with Yuuji and you’ll get a flash of him wondering how soft your lips are when you apply some chapstick, or of him appreciating how your neckline dips just low enough for him to see the edge of your bra when he looks down at you.
It’s not every time you’re together, but it starts to happen often enough that you begin to prepare yourself whenever you know that you’re going to see him, just in case. And it does work. You accept that your friend seems to be attracted to you and assume that this new crush will probably go away. You’re able to shut out the thoughts as quickly as they come.
But then they get louder — and filthier. You’re no longer seeing things that could barely be considered PG-13.
You’re seeing your face coated in white streaks of Yuuji’s cum, your mouth open and your tongue sticking out to catch every last drop as he fists his cock. You’re seeing your ass in the air as he eats you out from behind, your own imagined whimpers and moans ringing in your ears as you grind back into his face. You’re seeing yourself from above, his hands on the backs of your knees pressing them towards your chest as your ankles dangle by his ears while you beg him to go “harder, Yuuji!” You’re seeing him yanking you into an alley to bend you over and fuck you against the concrete wall.
It’s only made worse by how casual he acts when you’re finally able to recover from whatever obscene display has been forced upon you and you can dare to look at him. He’s never flustered or lost in some fantasy. He’s never distracted. You never catch him staring at your tits or ass. You’ve never even been able to catch him with a tent in his pants.
He behaves as if everything is normal, like he’s just your friend that you’ve known since high school. A friend who doesn’t fantasize when you’re laughing together over hotpot about spitting in your mouth or when you finally have a chance to go see Human Earthworm 6 about you swallowing his cock in a crowded theater.
Your other friends seem to have noticed that something is off. Megumi has asked on more than one occasion if you’re coming down with something when he sees how you’ll suddenly start breaking out into a sweat. Nobara is more perceptive, immediately jumping to the conclusion that there must be a new man in your life with how flustered you’ve been lately.
There’s a sudden, sharp pang of someone else’s dismay you feel when she makes her deduction in front of your friends.
But what you don’t know how to tell her is that this new man is Yuuji, and the reason you’re so flustered is because every time you see him, he’s been unknowingly projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into your mind. And even worse, you don’t know how to tell her that you’ve started to look forward to it.
At first, you thought the reason why you would get so wet was because Yuuji doesn’t just share what’s running through his mind, but also what he’s feeling. Your arousal is really just his arousal.
But that doesn’t explain why you’ve found your eyes lingering over his broad shoulders when his back is to you or appreciating the sight of him shirtless and sweaty after training together or wondering what it would feel like to have two of his thick fingers buried knuckle deep in your slick cunt.
And you’ve started to realize that he doesn’t even need to be around for you to end up yourself lost in a fantasy of your own making.
You’ll be scrolling through your phone and your mind will drift to how it would feel to look down and see Yuuji beneath you as you ride him, your palms pushing down against his bare chest for leverage with every rock of your hips. You’ll be sitting on the couch and wish that Yuuji were with you so you could climb into his lap and desperately grind against him until you both come in your pants as you let out needy little whimpers against his lips.
You’ll be in bed late at night with your hand buried between your legs, your fingers sliding in and out of your dripping pussy while you grind the heel of your palm against your clit, and mourn the absence of his cock.
After months of this ongoing torture, your sanity is about to snap. It feels like every time you’re together, if it’s not his fantasies that you’re seeing, it’s your own.
But then you notice a change. Because where you’ve started to feel less flustered every time one of these images is playing in your mind — so desensitized to them by this point that they leave you turned on more than anything else — he appears to be growing more flustered in your presence.
There are times when he can’t quite meet your eyes. You’ll look over at him and see that his cheeks are suddenly as pink as his hair. There’s one time where he starts to choke on the soda he’s in the middle of drinking for no apparent reason. You finally start to catch him staring longingly at your ass.
You begin to wonder if he’s close to reaching his breaking point.
It’s what you find yourself contemplating one night as you and Yuuji get caught in the rush hour crowd on the subway. He’s strong enough and thoughtful enough to have pushed a path through when you boarded, so that you can lean back against the set of doors on the opposite side. He rests his forearm above your head on the window, using his body to shield you from the rest of the crowd.
It’s an awkward situation for two friends to be in. For as much room as he tries to leave between you, people continue to get on at each station, and eventually, there’s no space left — you can feel every firm inch of him pressed against you.
He seems to be more conscious of it than you, his eyes directed nervously up at the ceiling. You’re just relieved that it’s him invading your space and not some creep who’s ready to take advantage of the close quarters.
Thankfully, most of the station platforms are on the same side as where you entered the train, so neither of you have to worry about moving or the doors you’re both leaning against opening. With Yuuji seemingly feeling too shy to talk while you’re in such an intimate position, your mind begins to wander.
What if you turn around? Yuuji would feel every one of your curves as you reposition yourself so that your tits were pressed against the window and your ass slots perfectly against his crotch. You could take his free hand in yours and slip it under your skirt and between your thighs so that he could feel the wet spot in your underwear.
Actually, in this fantasy, you’re wearing no underwear. God, the groan he’ll let out when you slide his fingers up your legs, only to find that there’s no barrier between his touch and your soaked pussy.
His cock would be so hard against your ass as you give a slow grind into it, able to feel every solid inch even through the fabric of your skirt and his pants. But you can’t waste any time — the doors supporting you both could open at any of the next stops.
So, while you flip up your skirt, he rushes to shove his pants and boxer briefs just far enough so he can pull out his cock with one hand. And that one hand is then quickly slapped over your mouth to muffle your cry when he slides his cock into your sopping cunt in one smooth stroke.
He takes you so roughly that you can’t tell if it’s the train that’s so jerky or the punishing rhythm he sets, desperate to get you both off before someone either catches you in the middle of your illicit act or you enter a station where the platform is on your side of the car.
It’s just as you slide your hand down between your legs to furiously rub at your clit that the fantasy comes to a screeching halt with all the force of someone hitting the emergency brake on the train. Because you’re suddenly incredibly aware of something hard between you.
You look down, but it’s pointless with how close Yuuji is — pointless because you can’t see beyond his chest and yours, and pointless because what else could it be other than his cock? You then look up at him with hooded eyes to see how red his face is.
He looks pained, his features scrunched together, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and a bead of sweat running down his neck that you want nothing more than to catch with your tongue. You tilt your head to the side curiously, wondering why he’s so distressed. Obviously, he’s feeling embarrassed, you don’t need to be able to read his mind to know that. But this seems to be something beyond simple embarrassment.
Feeling your gaze on him, he eventually opens his eyes and gathers the courage to look down at you. Your breath catches in your throat when you see how wide his pupils are, his warm brown irises merely a thin ring around them, and how you can see a mixture of deep hunger, desperation, and pleading.
“I’m begging you,” he says. His voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the train as it continues to run along its track, but it’s impossible to miss the rasp to it. “You have got to stop doing that. You’re killing me.”
Your forehead wrinkles as you frown in confusion, trying to understand what he’s talking about. But then he lifts his free hand, the one you had just been fantasizing about having between your legs, and taps his index finger meaningfully against his temple, and you gasp so loudly that you know other passengers have turned to see what’s happening.
Because over the months where Yuuji has been projecting his thoughts, unaware that they’ve been loud enough that you can’t help but hear them, it never occurred to you that a longer-lasting connection was slowly forming with every image, every word, every emotion. Your mind became so open to receiving what he was unknowingly sharing that you hadn’t realized that you were slipping into his mind the way you used to do with others when you were younger and still learning the basics of your technique.
And what you grew to understand as you developed it was that if you don’t form a barrier to protect what’s in your mind, then the connection becomes reciprocal and your target can see everything that you’re thinking, too.
Which means that for the last few months, it’s not only him who’s been projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into your mind, but also you who’s been projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into his mind.
All you can do is stare up at him, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find the words. Unfortunately, while you’ve lost your ability to speak, your mind refuses to quiet and all you can think of is how you want him to stick his fingers in your mouth.
From the way his head drops back with a deep groan, it seems you’ve accidentally projected that as well.
synopsis: you stumble upon a cottage while out on a stroll one day. it's cute, quaint, and empty- so you're quick to make yourself at home. what's the worst that could happen?
or, goldilocks and the three bears but if the bears were men and goldilocks got a train ran on her.
warnings: slight crack, kinda bimbo reader and himbo satoru, marathon sex, F/M/M/M, p in v, spanking, light choking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, creampie, unsafe sex - not a condom in sight don't do this irl, finger sucking, spanking, reverse cowgirl, standing sex, mirror sex, missionary, multiple orgasms everyone is cumming a lot, so several cum shots, degradation, praise, teasing, fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, squirting, im sorry, dacyphilia, power dynamics, dumbification
a/n: a long fic w my rebrand ! this is for my baby @cupidstrace fairy tale 1k event :3 ily and congrats on like 4 million followers now bc im months late sigh. art creds to the ultra talented @hunnismokah ! ok bye read the tags && enjoy my 8.7k words of porn with little plot
once upon a time, you were making your way through an enchanted forest (as one does), when you stumbled upon a small cottage. it was quaint, inviting, something about it drawing you in. and when you tested your luck, you found it was unlocked! pushing the wooden door open with a loud creak, you poked your head inside, taking a look around before calling out. you waited… and waited… but no response came. so, with a shrug and without a thought, you slipped inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet thud.
the inside was straight out of a fairy tale— cute wooden furniture, woven rugs, bowls of porridge. most of these items coming in threes. there was a beautiful set of intricately carved chairs that piqued your interest first. you tried them out, one at a time, because you found the first to be much too hard, and the second was much too big. but the third one was juuust right. you lounged for a while, flicking through magazines and books on the coffee table at your feet, until you heard your stomach grumbling, starting to cramp painfully with hunger.
at that point, no one had come home, and the smell of porridge was wafting towards you, making your mouth water. getting up with a stretch, you made your way to the kitchen table, set with three little bowls and three wooden chairs. you sat at the first, taking a sip of the porridge, just to pull away with a yelp. it was much too hot. so you moved to the next bowl, dipping the spoon and bringing it to your lips, but this porridge was much too thick. still, you decided to try your luck with the last bowl, hoping for anything to quell your hunger even a little. and to your delight, this bowl of porridge was juuust right.
you yawned loudly, feeling tired after a warm meal, and you figured that you might as well search for a place to lie down for a while since, still, no one had returned home. you crept up the stairs, old, maple planks creaking under your feet until the bedroom loft came into view. and sure enough, there were three not-so-little beds, all lined up in a row. the first one you tried, adorned with dark purple sheets was much too stiff. so you moved to the next, the bed with blue and white striped sheets, but it was much too soft. sighing, you approached the last bed, messily made with black and red plaid sheets, crawling under the covers to find that it was juuust right.
you're not sure how long you were asleep before you were pulled from your slumber by muffled voices talking quickly. you stirred, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as they blink open, blurry vision focusing in on the faces of three large men peering over you.
"well, well, look who's awake," the one with dark hair remarks at the sight of your consciousness.
you jolt, legs peddling you away from them until your back hits the headboard. you're staring at them with wide eyes, gaze flicking between each face as you take in your situation— it seems the owners of this little cottage have finally returned. the only thing is you didn't expect them to be so… burly.
the one with pink hair is watching you suspiciously, narrowed eyes tracing over your figure as he lets out a displeased hum. "you the one who ate my food?" you stammer out a response that's less of a word and more of a squeak of confusion. "left theirs alone, but my fuckin' bowl's empty," he clarifies.
"well… the others were either too hot or too thick…" you explain meekly. and that pulls a smirk out of each of them, a sharp laugh from the one with white hair who's been quiet until now.
he pipes up again, bright eyes shining down at you with a mischievous glint, "and the last one was what, just right?
"she thinks she's goldilocks or something," the one with pink hair mumbles again, the one with black hair chuckling beside him.
your brows knit as your gaze switches to him, "oh, no i don't have any gold, i'm sorry." his mouth pulls into a straight line, eyes squinting further. you're not sure why he looks so peeved, but the man with snowy hair is laughing harder now.
"like the fairy tale, y'know? goldilocks and the three bears." he clarifies, to which you just shake your head at him. "it's alright. how'd you get here anyways?" he asks.
"well, i was just on my hot girl walk, and i must've missed some signs but then i saw this place and it looked cute," you state with a shrug.
"so you just waltzed in?" the man with tattoos shouts, "that's breaking and entering, you know."
your hands fly up in surrender, "i didn't break anything, i swear!"
"hey, ease up on her," the man with black hair chimes in finally.
wide blue eyes are locked on you, paired with a wide grin, "we were just on our hot bear walk, which is why we weren't here."
"bear?" you question, head cocking to the side, but then it clicks. "ohhh, like the story," you giggle, "that's funny."
he looks proud that you liked his joke, but the mean tattooed one doesn't look amused in the slightest, ogling the two of you with a disapproving, baffled expression. tweedle dee and tweedle dum.
a heavy tension settles over the four of you, only finally being cut when the man with snowy hair claps his hands together loudly. "i've got it!" he announces, everyone now staring at him quizzically. "let's let goldilocks decide for herself which one of us is juuust right," he says cheerily.
it was a stupid idea. one proposed by a stupid man who was too horny for his own good, considering he lives in the middle of the woods and likely doesn't get many women stumbling upon his home— and definitely none as cute as the one they found in his roommate's bed.
but still, everyone must've been feeling the same way since a few pleasantries later and you're straddling satoru, knees on either side of his thighs, hands on his shins. he's got one hand around the base of his freed cock and the other on your lower back as he lines himself up with your cunt. you lower yourself, little by little, gasping when the tip of his cock prods at your dripping entrance.
"just like that— keep goin' baby," he coos from behind you, hand sliding to your waist to give it a soft squeeze. a shudder courses through your body as the head slips inside. "fuck…" satoru rasps, entranced by the way your cunt sucks him in, lips spreading and closing around the mushroom tip as you sit yourself onto him.
he lets you take your time, lets you adjust to the curve of him with each buried inch— he likes how slow you are, how you're taking your time, quivering slightly with pleasure and uncertainty. he likes the way you crane your neck to look between your thighs, only to let out a whine when you see how much there is left to go.
sukuna and toji like it too. now, if you were riding either of their cocks, they would have slammed their hips up into you ages ago— ever the impatient ones, but you're not. you're riding satoru, which means they're free to chase the release they want. spit soaked hands wrapped around each of their cocks, stroking languidly as they watch you closely. the weight of their gazes is impossible to ignore, drawing a flush to your cheeks and a burning between your thighs.
your eyes slide shut, head falling back as your mouth parts, soft pants falling from your lips as you sink lower until he hits that spongy spot inside you. "o-oh, fuck," you whine, fingernails digging into his pale skin, making him hiss between his teeth. the hand that was gripping his base moves to your back, caressing softly as he hums, "doing so good— half way there, sweets."
"h-huh?" you stutter out, neck snapping down and eyes shooting open as your brows knit together in confusion. until you see he's right. your gaze finding the place where your bodies meet, just to see how much longer you have to go until you can take all of him.
condescending snickers float through the air around you, the two other men finding your reaction amusing. their eyes meet in silent communication, a wordless bet between the two about whether or not they think you'll ever be able to take all of him. your breath trembles, your cheeks burning and thighs clenching as you avert your eyes from their burning stares.
satoru can tell you're flustered by them, if not by the way you're obviously embarrassed, but by the way you're clenching around him, pulling a strangled sound from his lips. "can't tell if you're bothered by them, or if you like it," he murmurs, thumb tracing along your soft skin.
"she likes it," toji chimes in confidently.
"that true?" satoru asks you.
"course she does," sukuna answers for you, "bet it's half the reason she's soakin' your cock right now."
you blush brighter, head tilting to look at him with a sharp glare that just makes him smirk, because he knows that you know he's right. everyone can see it, the way your slick is glistening, pearly droplets now sliding down satoru's shaft— the part that has yet to be buried inside you.
"see, she's fuckin' dripping now," he remarks again.
toji hums in agreement, fist tightening slightly around his girth, "go on— wet enough to take all of him now, aren't ya?"
your eyes clamp shut, shaking your head. "i can't—"
"you can," toji cuts you off, "said you'd fuck all of us— don't act like that cryin' pussy can't take one lil' cock."
"not little," you whimper, "'s too long."
and if only you could see the way satoru's chest practically swelled with pride at your admission, but all you saw was the unimpressed look on sukuna and toji's faces, one that told you they didn't care.
they didn't care that their eyes were making you clench harder around satoru's length, making it more difficult to let him in, nor that he really was so long— your eyes widening like saucers when you saw him free inch after inch of his pale, veiny shaft. only now, everyone's already been waiting long enough for the show to start, a sense of boredom starting to creep in on your two voyeurs.
satoru's hips twitch beneath you, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he fights not to buck up into you. he wants to let you set the pace, be in control so you can feel more comfortable before you have to deal with toji and sukuna… but even sweet, sweet gojo has his limits, and he can feel his resolve fraying with each contraction of your slick, gummy walls around his cock.
"c'mon, it'll feel good, trust me," he urges you on, wiggling his hips again. each little movement shimmies you down a little further, your breath hitching in your throat when his tip finally pushes further than you've ever been filled before.
you swing your arms behind you instead, stretching your stomach as you arch your back. taking a deep breath you finally release the tension in your quads, letting yourself slide the rest of the way until your ass is pressed up against satoru's pelvis, every bit of his pride settled deep inside you.
toji and sukuna wordlessly pick up the pace, hands moving in sync, faster, tighter at the sight of you. back bent and chest up as you let your head hang back, a sigh of pleasure and relief falling from your glossy lips. your nipples pebbled, skin dewy, and your cunt— the prettiest pussy, all sticky and glossy and stuffed to the brim.
"told ya, doll— slutty hole sucked in every inch," toji drawls, the baritone of his voice accompanied by the wet sound of his fist wrapped tight around his dick, "go on, ride him."
you roll your hips, getting used to the feeling of satoru inside you, the feeling of him rubbing along your walls, his tip prodding in new territory making you moan. he meets your movements, feet planted on the bed so he can fuck up into you at your pace— slowly at first, hands smoothing up your back, gently caressing your waist in a way that makes you melt. a way that makes you think surely he's nicer than the other two.
and he usually is, just not when he's been oh, so understanding and caring for so long already, and he knows that you can take it. they all know you can take whatever they give you.
so it's not long before he's got both his hands on your hips, all ten fingers digging into the flesh as he bounces you on his cock, the loud slap of skin on skin ringing out between your cries whenever his hips hit the fat of your ass.
you're slumped forward again, hands on his knees to try and ground yourself but it's hardly working. each slam of his hips, each kiss of his tip against your cervix has you making sounds you never thought you'd hear from yourself— loud and obscene, they sound straight out of a porno and so unlike the cute girl the men found sleeping in their home.
"fuck! s-satoru, slow down— oh my, fuck," you whine.
"can't, sweets. feels too- fuck- good." he sounds just as pitchy as you, just as desperate, and he knows you don't really mean it— not with the way you're blabbering on after, telling him to keep going, telling him how fucking good he feels, how deep he's hitting. "god, look at you," he groans, half-lidded eyes tracing over the curve of your spine, the beads of sweat streaking down your skin, the jiggle of your ass each time you bounce back down on his cock. "so perfect... can't believe we found you."
"'toru, toruuu." your thighs burn despite him doing most of the work for you, lifting you up and slamming you back down, over and over, and the relentless, monotonous pace is lighting that familiar fire low in your core. each thrust, each word from your two onlookers, from the man beneath you— it's all kindling. "fuck, fuck, shi-toru 'm gonna cum."
"got a filthy fuckin' mouth," toji mutters, sukuna humming in agreement. "should fill it up, give her somethin' better t'do," he grunts, cock twitching in his hand at the thought of your hot mouth wrapped around him instead.
sukuna's picturing it too. toji can tell by the way his eyes flutter shut, a ragged sigh escaping him that morphs into a guttural groan, "fuuuck, yeah." his head falls forward, pink locks damp with sweat falling over his closed eyes as he imagines it. imagines you with those lips parted around his length, tongue swirling around his shaft instead of is spit-soaked fingers. imagines it's you, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him in tight instead of him squeezing his fist with each stroke. "yeah, just like that— keep suckin' me like that, baby."
he's shameless. they all are. but it's not like you're any better. you only get louder, your pussy wetter at the sound of sukuna talking himself up to his peak. the knowledge that it's you who he wants, you who he's picturing making him feel good— it's enough to send you over the edge.
you keen, a jumbled mess of their names spilling from your lips— you know you should probably be screaming satoru's since he's the one rutting into you, but you can't help it. not when toji and sukuna are half the reason you're now gushing around satoru's dick as he continues to spear you.
"o-oh you feel so good," he whines, "'m so close, please—"
he's also not quite sure what he's begging for— for you to keep riding him? for you to let him keep fucking you as he has been? for you to let him spill inside you? it doesn't matter. you're not even in a state right now to give him an answer to any of them, but even if you could gather your thoughts you know the answers would be yes, yes, yes.
you're slumped over, panting and trembling as satoru keeps up his pace, his grip turning bruising as he chases his release. brows knit and eyes rolling back, the look on his face coupled with the pathetic whimpering coming from you and the sound of your pussy sloshing around him is enough to bring toji to the edge too.
sukuna's already cumming in his hand, loud and messy, by the time toji makes his way over to you. fist pumping fast, you can see his muscled legs before you through hazy vision, can hear his voice through the ringing in your ears. "lean back, doll. lemme see those tits again."
and without a thought, your body obeys, spine curving again, shaky arms sliding behind you to rest on satoru's quads you put yourself on display once more.
"fuck, there they are," he groans, "gonna cum all over 'em— you want that?"
"mhmmm," you nod, looking up at him with a look of pure need through your daze and that alone is enough to have his cock twitching in his palm. a few more pumps, a few more grunts and he's done. sticky, white ropes of cum paint your chest, your nipples, it's already starting to dribble down to your stomach.
"aw shiiit," satoru groans, "fuck i'm cumming—" and with that, a hand slides to your back, pushing you forward. you're too shaky to catch yourself properly, head collapsing all the way forward into the mattress between his legs. ass up for him, satoru's got one hand groping at you while the other's jerking his dick, hand moving fast and squeezing tight so he doesn't loose that feeling of you, up, down, up, down until he's convulsing, more white splattering across your rear— your asshole, each cheek, the hand that was palming you, all coated in satoru's release.
"god damn, satoru," sukuna's voice rings out, "don't think i've ever seen you cum that much."
"y-yeah," he breathes, completely spent, "pussy's incredible."
you grumble something incoherent into the mattress, body shifting around until you're lying flat next to satoru.
"uh-uh, get up," toji states flatly, "not tappin' out before my turn, mrs. incredible."
groaning in weak protest, you flip over to your back so you can scowl up at him. "but 'm already sore," you complain.
"don't worry, i'll do the work— jus' need ya to stand up f'me."
satoru and sukuna exchange a look— they already know what toji has planned for you. living together as long as they did, they knew… a lot about one another. their favorite colors, foods, positions. and toji was always one who liked to be in control, and if there was a way to show off his strength while doing it, well, that was even better.
mere seconds after you're able to stand, toji's scooping you up in his arms, adjusting quickly until you're chest to chest, both your thighs in his hands, and his already hard cock starting to push inside you. "toji!" you yelp, barely being given time to adjust to his size before he's starting to slide you down onto him. you thought after satoru you'd have no issues taking any of the other men— but you were sorely mistaken. satoru was long, yes, but toji? he was all girth.
"look at that," he groans. you turn your head, scanning the room lazily until you see what he's talking about. the full-body mirror hung up on the wall between the beds, next to you. you can see everything. every ridge and valley of the muscles carved into toji's body, the purple splotches on your hip, the veins that litter the cock that's half-way buried between your glistening folds.
it's fucking obscene, but if you look away, over his shoulder, you're only met with a burning crimson stare that's almost worse.
toji adjusts his grip, pulling you down further, splitting you open in a way that satoru wasn't able to. the stretch is painful, your slick walls being spread wide around him as he presses inside steadily until your pelvis meets his. "oh god, fuck—" you whimper, arms wrapping around his neck as you bury your face into the crook of it.
"so fuckin' tight," he grits through a clenched jaw, "you sure you fucked her, satoru?"
"shut up," he shouts from where he's still laid on the bed, catching his breath.
sukuna's watching intently, his own soft cock now twitching with signs of life again at the rosy hue on your cheeks and the way you're clinging to toji like he's not the one about to ruin you.
toji's hands slide along your supple skin until he's squeezing the fat of your ass, feeling for himself what he wanted to the minute he saw you climb on top of his friend. he pulls one hand away, letting it fall back to its place with a hard smack! making you jolt forward, into him. "ready, doll?" he asks, though you have a feeling no matter what you said, by the time your answer reached his ears, his mind would have twisted it into an enthusiastic yes.
but still, you nod against him, mumbling a soft, "'m ready," which earns you an attagirl, punctuated with another slap to your ass.
if you'd known that toji's question was the last small act of kindness that you'd receive from him all night, you might've hesitated a bit more. but you didn't. and he's making damn sure that you don't have a second to think about your potential mistake, immediately tugging your hips away from his and ramming them back down. "sh-shit!" you wrap your arms tighter around his neck, a hand carding through the hair on the back of his head.
biceps bulging, feet planted firmly on the ground, he's fucking you down onto him like you weigh nothing— just a toy for him to use how he pleases, which is just how he likes it. you're soaked already too, having cum once before, pussy slick with your arousal and sweat making it easier for him to bully his cock into you.
and no matter how many times he pushes inside, stretches you out, thrust after thrust it still feels like you're taking him for the very first time, like you'd never even fucked someone before him, let alone tonight.
"a-ahfuck! toji s-slow down," you whine, teeth sinking into his shoulder to stop yourself from crying out.
he hisses through clenched teeth at the sharp sting before a low chuckle rumbles in his chest. he's laughing. at you, because how could you even think he'd listen to you. "never were the smartest, huh?" he grunts, eyes sliding back to the mirror for another good look at you. ass red and legs trembling, your face is buried in his neck, yet he can still see how tight you have your eyes squeezed shut. "open your eyes," he commands, drawing a loud squeak from you when he spanks you again, hard.
your eyelids flutter open, but you're still not looking where toji wants you to. instead, your gaze is now locked on sukuna who's tugging gently on his half-hard cock, leaning lazily against the wall as he stares at you silently. he's unreadable, expression neutral in a way that makes your stomach flip— whether he's enjoying your little show or not is hard to tell from his face alone, the only indication being the way he keeps stroking himself languidly.
"somethin' else got your attention?" toji's gravelly voice rasps in your ear, "y'like bein' watched that much? rather look at him?"
"n-no, i don't—," you mumble, turning to share a look with him in the mirror. and you really can understand why he wanted to do this. it's fuckin' dirty— the way he's positioned you both so that he can make you watch him fuck you, reduce you into nothing but a whining mess in his arms. it's all the more obvious how much power he has over you in this moment. and that, draws a moan from you.
"you do— stranglin' me whenever you see him watching us."
your eyes cut back up to sukuna, pussy clenching tight around toji in a way that makes him groan wildly, proving his point. his grip on your ass tightens as he ruts into you harder, his pace slowing just so he can make sure each thrust is as deep as possible, burying his dick to the hilt each and every time.
"fuck, toji, please!" you croak, "s'too much, t-too thick—"
"yeah? fuck, doll, loosen up, shit."
"c-can't," you mewl, sniffling as you feel tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelming feeling budding in your chest, the tingling in your core as you feel your orgasm building much too quickly again. it's all making your head spin— sukuna, and now gojo, burning holes into you with their stares, toji's bruising grip, the way his girth is plowing into your already overstimulated cunt, abusing your g-spot mercilessly.
"fuck— you fuckin' crying?" sukuna finally speaks, cock pulsing in his hand.
toji smirks, the sight of you only adding to his already overinflated ego, "aw, poor thing, it hurt?" he asks with feigned sympathy.
you sniff again, voice raspy as you try to reply, "feels good, but—"
"so quit sniveling," he cuts you off, spanking you again. hot pain spreads across the skin on your ass, searing when he squeezes the area just after smacking it, nails returning to their position of digging into your flesh.
the tears that were sitting pretty in your waterline start to fall, shimmering rivulets rolling over your burning cheeks, down to your chin, and eventually onto toji's shoulder where you bury your face again. he can feel it, the wetness from your eyes, your hot breath fanning against his damp skin, all of it making his dick twitch inside you— if he could get any harder he would've.
instead, he just gets meaner. grip adjusting so he slides a hand inward, chuckling again at the way your body tenses when you feel the pad of his finger brush against your asshole. "w-wait," you start, but no more words follow, only a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob when you feel his finger rubbing tight circles around your rim, each motion fluid, lubricated with what's yet to dry of satoru's spend.
"fuck, yeah, you like that? havin' your ass played with?" your eyes flutter open again at the question, just in time to see sukuna's ears practically perking up, his neck craning to get a look at how toji's touching you.
sukuna's cock is fully hard again, satoru's own length starting to twitch once more as he lingers on the bed, watching everything quietly. toji presses, applying more pressure, relishing in the way your pussy clamps down around him as both your holes clench.
you can't help it anymore— that you're desperate. you can't be bothered to pretend like you're not completely and utterly willing to surrender yourself to toji at a moment's notice. even if you wanted to try, you know your body would betray you.
your cunt is already sopping wet again, slick sounds echoing through the room each time toji forces his cock back in, white webs of arousal visibly coating his shaft whenever he pulls out. and every dirty word that falls from his tongue, each spank and squeeze and brush of his hand against your ass just has your walls fluttering.
"more," you whine, "wan' more, please." your stomach flips as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your release, rambling on more into his ear, just begging him to cum. but he's not ready to be done with you yet.
"knew y'were a slut," he grunts, but he's grinning wide, teeth bared as he watches himself in the mirror, hand adjusting once more to replace his finger with his thumb. he's resumes rubbing you, coating the digit in satoru's cum before pressing harder. "gotta relax, doll— don't ya wanna feel good?"
you nod fervently into him, starting to roll your hips pathetically, even though you're unable to keep up with his pace— but you just want to cum. and then he slows. you moan in frustration, feeling your orgasm slipping away, but his other hand is stroking your ass soothingly until your muscles relax and his thumb finally slips inside your tightest hole.
"o-oh fuuuck, 'ji." and then you're whimpering again at the pressure inside your rear, having already forgotten about the orgasm that he denied you. it's pathetic how much influence toji has over you, all pliant in his arms so long as he's giving you something.
he's got the rest of his hand splayed out across your lower back, thumb just hooked inside you like an anchor for his grip, but it feels like he's squeezing your walls tight between his hand and cock now.
"so good," he moans, "sukuna's gonna fuckin' love you, ain't that right?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at the tattooed man who only grunts in reply.
you glance up at sukuna again, watching through watery eyes as he spits in his hand before bringing it back down to his dick. he flashes you an easy grin, eyes hungry and clouded with lust in a way that makes your chest swell with anticipation and your pussy flutter around toji.
and as much as toji loves the way you get wetter, louder, when you notice sukuna staring at you, he's a prideful man. and one who wants to cum knowing all your attention is on him.
another loud crack! rings out as toji's hand collides with your skin one last time. "toji! f-fuck!"
"eyes on me," he growls, grips tightening as he accelerates once more. he's sweating now, using every last ounce of his energy to make sure you cum before he does.
"haah— oh god, t-'ji," you sob, mouth falling open as moan after moan falls from your pretty lips, eyes rolling back as he fucks you down onto him, thumb rubbing along the inside of your asshole as his cock ruts into your abused walls.
you're driven to that peak again, the steady, ruthless rhythm of his thrusts winding the coil in your core tighter and tighter as you're forced to watch in the mirror— not daring to disobey his command when you're so close again. the arousal coating his cock is starting to form a frothy, white ring forming at the base. it's lewd, how wet you are before you've even cum again, but you can't help it with how thick toji is, cock big enough to press hard against every spot along your walls.
"gonna cum? you're fuck- fuckin' chokin' my cock again, doll."
he's teasing, but he shouldn't be. he knows he's right behind you, moaning unabashed, meat already pulsing inside you. but it's not until you're crying out his name like a prayer, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, that he lets himself go. lets himself shake with you, holding to you like a vice as he sheaths himself one last time— your cunt and his cock spasm together as you cream on his dick, his own cum spurting inside you, coating your walls.
"fuuuck, yeah— g'na fuckin' fill you up," he pants, still buried inside you so he can watch in the mirror as his seed starts to leak out- a sticky, white film seeping from where your bodies are connected.
when toji finally pulls out, still holding you up with your legs folded and spread apart, he angles you juuust right so your leaking pussy's on display for the other men.
"holy shit," satoru breathes from his spot on the bed, admiring with wide eyes as the rest of toji's cum mixed with yours drips from your poor cunt, each ragged breath you take pushing out more for them to see. sukuna's hand stills, scared if he moves it another millimeter he'll be cumming in it for the second time, and he wants to make sure if he cums again tonight— it's inside you.
toji walks you back over to the bed, practically kicking satoru onto the ground before dropping you on the mattress. the three men have you surrounded in an instant, looming torsos caging you in at every end of the bed, and as much of a sight as it is— each hulking form, chiseled and glistening with sweat, boasting a set of abs trailing down to a pretty cock— they're each convinced that the sight of you beneath them is unparalleled.
naked form sprawled on the sheets, toji's cum has long dried on your chest which is still heaving, your nipples perking up before them in the open air, the temperature a stark contrast to the heat that was radiating off toji. the muscles in your legs quiver slightly as you squirm under their gazes, legs shifting together to try and hide the mess between them. but they already know what it looks like— white seed between your puffy folds, surrounded by the flushed skin of your ass that was treated oh, so harshly by the raven haired man.
sukuna shifts, drawing your attention fully to him as he crawls onto the bed. he encroaches slowly, knees shuffling forward as you two gaze at one another silently. the tension settling between you two is palpable, satoru and toji exchanging a glance with one another, but neither one speaking lest they interrupt.
"lemme see you," he rasps, large hands trailing up your thighs, coming to rest on your knees. he doesn't even need to pry, his voice alone has your stomach turning, heart beating wildly as you let your legs fall open for him. "fuck…" he breathes, bringing two fingers to run through your slit, your hips bucking instinctively at the touch, "eager little thing. two cocks not enough for you?"
there's a teasing lilt to his voice, and something else you can't quite place. sukuna's been difficult for you to read all night— quieter than the others, but when he speaks, you're not sure what to make of it. sometimes he's harsh, crass, words stinging sharper than toji's hand, and other time's he's reserved, tone flat and uninterested. and you find yourself feeling you'd rather have the former.
so you shake your head. "want yours, sukuna," you coo, a hand coming to rest atop his, guiding his fingers inside your aching pussy. you mewl, head falling back as he pushes further, the feeling of being full again both painful and pleasurable. his other hand splays across your stomach, smoothing up your torso as he works his fingers inside you.
calloused fingertip dance across your skin, pawing at your breasts, pinching your nipples lightly making you sigh and roll your hips against the heel of his hand. "so greedy," he muses, sliding his hand higher up your chest, lightly trailing along your collarbone before resting heavy against your neck. "just love feelin' full, that it?"
you nod quickly, a strangled moan tumbling from you as his hand tightens around your neck, his buried fingers curling inside you, prodding at that sweet spot finally. "mmf-fuck sukuna, please," you whine, his fingers scissoring and pumping, stretching you out again. the actions squelch loud, making the skin on your face prickle with heat.
and then he's pulling out slow, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the string of slick connecting his fingers to your cunt, the webs that form when he spreads the digits apart. you whine at the emptiness, making him chuckle, but he heeds your complaint, rough pads returning to you, only lower. he's circling your ass, pressing a finger in gently to which you don't protest. instead, you're arching, back coming off the mattress, neck still pinned down by his hand.
"what am i gonna do with you," he mutters, pensive as he languidly pumps the digit in and out of your asshole a few time before pressing another in alongside it. "a-ahh, s'kuna…" he's been hearing your moans all night, the honeyed sound of your voice never failing to reach his ears, but this? knowing it's finally because of him, finally getting to hear you panting his name? it's unmatched.
"you ever done anal?" he asks, eyes never leaving the sight of his fingers, entranced by the way your ass pushes them out just to suck them back in each time.
"uh-uh," you reply weakly, shaking your head as much as you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.
"mmm," he hums, "you gonna let me?" sukuna's eyes finally cut up to yours, his pupils blown wide with desire, the intensity of his stare drawing goosebumps to your skin, a shiver coursing through you as you nod meekly. "thaaat's a good girl."
it's almost embarrassing how much of an effect four little words can have on you— but the minute they leave his tongue, wrapped in his silken baritone your stomach is fluttering, pure need melting into something even stronger.
you can feel the motion of his fingers inside you, the steady retracting, sliding out of you until you're left pulsing around nothing.
normally, sukuna would tease you, play with you longer, work you up til the point where you're a sniveling mess begging for him to fuck you just to deny you again— but he's been waiting long enough. he's certain all the blood in his body must've rushed down to his dick with the way it's aching painfully, throbbing with a pulse of its own.
"you ready?" he grunts, the hand that was inside you now wrapped around the base of his cock so he can slap the shaft against your cunt. each hit has you squirming more, the thick head tapping against your swollen clit. "yeah you are," he mutters, more to himself than you, red irises glued to the sight of your pussy clamping around nothing.
"just be gentle," you mumble, apprehension starting to pool in your belly as you feel his cock sliding through your folds a few times before slipping lower, the tip prodding at your ass now.
sukuna smirks at that, flashing sharp canines at you before loosening the hand on your throat so he can stroke your cheek soothingly. "don't worry… gonna take good care of you," he replies with a softness you didn't expect from him.
you relax, legs shifting further apart to let his wide torso settle between them. each shuffle closer to you has his cock pushing forward. you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, biting back the moan that threatens to escape, a wordless reply to the painful stretch. "fuuck, jus' lemme put the tip in— it'll feel better after," he groans as your hands fly to his forearms.
he presses more, your nails burrowing into his skin like you're determined to have him feel the same sting as you until finally, you feel the fat mushroom head slip inside, your asshole closing down around after it. "shit— there ya go…" sukuna's hands come to rest beside your head, his body hovering over yours. his head is tucked into his chest so he can watch the rest of his shaft sliding in further, and further, lubricated by your slick and the release of the men you were with before him. "god, that feels good."
your moans harmonize as he bottoms out, pelvis finally pressed against yours he stills, seething through a clenched jaw, he looks at you. face inches from yours, breath mingling hot and humid, you're staring up at him. his eyes scan your face, the furrow in your brows, the glassy film over your eyes, your swollen lips, indented and red from being tugged between your teeth.
your chin shifts, tilts upwards, your mouth slightly agape— he knows what you want. knows that you're probably craving even a glimmer of affection after being fucked senseless twice already. just the tender brush of his lips against yours, the feeling of his tongue swiping at your lips, twirling against your own. he's so close, it would be so easy.
sukuna brings a hand back to your face, relishing in the way you lean into his touch, the way your mouth parts further as he swipes his thumb along your bottom lip, wetting it with your sweat and saliva. your lashes flutter, gaze desperate as you look at him, plead with him silently for something he doesn't plan on giving you.
instead, he slips his thumb inside your mouth, rolling his hips for the first time since entering you, grinning at the choked moan that vibrates against his digit. he knows you wanted more than a finger in your mouth, but still your lips close, cheeks hollowing and tongue twirling around it as you whimper at the feeling of his cock dragging slowly inside you.
"bet that mouth would feel fuckin' amazing wrapped around my cock," he mutters, pushing his thumb further, knuckles hitting your teeth as you gag. "might be the only thing it's good for."
your eyebrow knit together further, pupils shaking- he knows how you're feeling without you needing to say a word. you probably thought satoru was the sweet one. just to be proven wrong when he had you bouncing on his dick. then there's toji, who you never expected anything but a rough fuck from. and you'd probably thought of sukuna the same way, until he was crawling up on the bed with you. giving you sweet praises and checking in with you.
sure, it was manipulative, but he needed you relaxed, comfortable— otherwise he'd have never fit his cock in your ass.
he pulls his thumb out with a pop, smearing the residual saliva along your cheek because he's going to want to hear you now. wants to hear you sobbing his name as he pulls his hips back before slamming them into you.
"sukuna, fuck! o-oh god."
again. and again. he's a man obsessed, rutting into your ass relentlessly now, each moan, each cry from your throat spurring him on.
"yeah, jus' like that, baby— keep fuckin' saying my name like that."
it's new. a different kind of feeling than you're used to. the stretch feels bigger, wider, because your ass is just that much tighter. it's squeezing down around sukuna in a way that toji and satoru couldn't experience, no matter how hard you came around them.
"so greedy- sh-shit- suckin' me back in," he grunts, "y'want more? can't get enough?"
"mmfuck! s'kuna please," you're whining, writhing on the bed beneath him, eyes clamped shut with your head thrown back. "harder!"
"god damn, woman," he grits, sweat beading on his forehead as he pushes himself further, muscles straining as he finds himself keeping up with you now. your hips are thrusting up off the mattress, fucking yourself against him as his hips ram against your ass, his heavy balls smacking into you. "put your arms up."
you obey blindly, hands coming up above your head just for him to pin both wrists under one large hand. his free one trails down your side, a low groan rumbling in his throat at the sight of you trapped beneath him, ass stuffed full, your poor neglected pussy dripping with your arousal, beads of slick trailing down to the top of his cock just to be pushed into your other hole.
"so fuckin' wet— you always- fuck- like that?" you shake your head first, mumbling something incoherent before nodding after, too focused on the feeling of his length dragging along your inside to care about whatever he's asking you. "christ, already fucked stupid? 's okay, just feels too good, ain't that right?"
"uh-huh," you moan, before crying out, "fuck!" your eyes fly open, darting down to the place where your bodies meet to see his free hand now burrowed inside your cunt. two fingers curling and pumping again, moving with his body as he thrusts into you harder now.
you've been so focused on sukuna, so distracted by the stretch of his cock in your ass and now the feeling of his fingers pressing against your gummy walls, you don't even notice the two sets of muscled thighs on either side of your head.
"fuck, sukuna— you're gonna fuck her unconscious," satoru mumbles, his stiff length settled in his palm.
"nah, she can take it," toji chimes in, stroking his own girth opposite the white haired man. "look's like he's juuust right, actually."
each hit of sukuna's hips against yours has you keening, has your back arching and pussy clenching as every thought that isn't about your impending orgasm flies out of your mind. too fucked out to hear the murmuring above you, the lewd squelching of sukuna's fingers blending with the slapping of skin against skin. you're in too much of a daze to notice the tears that returned to your eyes, nor the saliva that's pooling in your mouth, threatening to trickle out.
"poor girl, crying again," satoru remarks, "fuck, she looks pretty when she does though."
"yeah, she does," toji grunts, "how's she feel sukuna?"
"fuckin' amazing, tight little ass is squeezin' the shit outta my cock." his voice is strained, words coming out chopped as he struggles to focus on holding your arms still while fingering and fucking you. "she's clampin' down round my fingers too—" his eyes cut up to your face, a feral grin cracking across his own at the state of you.
your eyes are glossed over and rolling back, salty droplets sliding from them to meet the drool now escaping the corners of your mouth— god, that mouth— lips parted and glossy as you still pant and moan, babbling an incoherent mix of his name and curses, pleases and thank yous.
"gonna cum, baby?" he rasps, and when you don't reply toji brings a hand to your face, tapping lightly against your cheek until your eyes slide to meet sukuna's gaze. "said you gonna cum?" he repeats.
you nod fervently, "mhmm wanna cum," your voice is pitchy now, laced with need as the pit in your stomach and the tingling in your core grow stronger, only it's different. your eyes grow wider, moaning and writhing, you stutter, "f-feels like 'm g-gonna pee, kuna— s-slow down."
"yeah? fuck, y'gonna squirt for me?"
"i-i don't—" you've never done that before. unfamiliar with what it feels like, slight panic and embarrassment course through you but sukuna's not letting up— if anything he's getting faster, thrusting into you harder than he was before. "kuna, wait— fuck!" you cry out, chest heaving as tears start to stream steadily from your eyes when your orgasm washes over you. you're shuddering, cunt pulsing rapidly as your watery release gushes onto sukuna's hand, his stomach, the sheets beneath you.
"ahh- yeah, that's it— make a mess all over me," sukuna growls, actions unrelenting as he keeps fucking you through the aftershock of your climax. "god you're fuckin' nasty."
your ribs shake as you cry harder, overstimulated your cunt burns from the friction of his fingers thrusting into it, your ass stinging from the stretch of his hefty cock— it's all too much, but fuck if it isn't like anything you've experienced before.
"you okay, sweets?" satorus voice rings out, soft and compassionate despite the fact that he's bucking into his fist faster now, pearly beads of precum leaking from his tip at how ruined you are.
"m—ah-more," you hiccup, "f-full."
"sure are, doll," toji grunts, the speed of his hips rivaling satoru's, and he's not even sure how he has any more cum left inside him at this point— but all he knows is he'll be damned if he doesn't get to cum one more time with you here tonight.
"jus' a cockdrunk cumslut, huh?" sukuna grunts, harsh words cutting through your haze and sending another flutter to your core. "lucky you're so pretty— shit- 'specially like this."
and he really meant it. the vision of you laid out before him, lower half of your body glistening in your own juices, ass and pussy filled to the brim with him, it would be etched into his memory forever.
"a-ah fuck, 'm gonna cum," he groans, pulling back, finally releasing your sore wrists, only you're too limp to move them. both his hands come to adjust your legs, resting your ankles on his shoulders. biceps flexing, his arms move to wrap around your thighs, hugging them tight. he uses them as leverage to rut into you, chasing his own release with seemingly endless stamina until his hips stutter, his pace faltering before his hips still.
"a-ahhfuck," sukuna moans loud and unabashed as his cock pulses, his seed filling your ass. but he doesn't pull out. not yet. he stays, his cock softening inside you as he keeps you laid out before him because there's still two more people who haven't finished. "go on n' cum on her face," he breathes out, panting softly.
satoru and toji are grunting, neither one able to reply, fearful that the effort it would take to form a sentence would detract from the high they're so close to. their hands and hips move wildly to meet one another, and each man is imagining the feeling of your heavenly pussy. they remember what it felt like to press inside you for the first time, the feeling of your velvety walls gliding along their shafts, the feeling of you trembling when you cum—
and that's enough. sensitive and twitchy, they're both done for. toji groaning, satoru whimpering out your name as each one cums from their hands. white ropes of cum splatter on your face, your lips, your neck.
only when you've been painted white does sukuna finally pull his hips away from yours, a weak moan rising up from your chest at the feeling of him gliding against your abused walls once more until you're empty again.
all three of them are spent, their muscles starting to ache from overexerting themselves just to try and be the one to ruin you.
and you were. absolutely ruined. sukuna's seed leaking from your ass, your legs covered in your own release, and a dark stain on the sheets beneath you. you could still see the dried cum on your chest, a complement to the fresh, sticky cum on your face that's starting to crust in your hair.
as the fog in your mind starts to clear, you bring an aching arm down to touch your face, eyes squinting as you do your best to rub some of the mess off, your tongue darting out to lick clean whatever landed on your lips.
"someone get a rag," sukuna barks, scowling when the other two men just grumble tiredly in response. the frown in his expression softens when he hears you giggle, a breathy laugh bubbling up from your chest as the absurdity of the situation you're in now. fucked out and slightly delirious, covered in a number of bodily fluids as you wait for a stranger to clean up the mess they made on you all because of a wrong turn on a walk.
eventually someone does get a towel, returning to the room to find you struggling to blink away the exhaustion that's clawing at you, fighting to lull you into a deep sleep.
"uh-uh," sukuna tuts at you, smacking your leg lightly to keep you awake, "not fallin' asleep in my bed before a shower at least."
"your sheets are already ruined, what does it matter?" toji reasons, wiping the towel gently across your skin.
"obviously 'm gonna wash them," sukuna shoots back— the two of them starting to bicker with one another as you watch them with a lazy grin on your face until satoru steals everyone's attention with a noisy groan.
"guys, the porridge is going to be cold again."
likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated ! i have more works here ♡
a/n: ty phy for reading this while i was working on it and giving feedback ily. psst @coralbae and @whimsic i hope you find the shawarma kiosk joke i've slipped in here
18+. the many times you & higuruma get caught at work.
I. case one: the evidence locker ( 8:12 PM )
higuruma hiromi is dark pressed suit, two rings on his long fingers & a moral compass that always points north. you’re a paralegal with skirt 3cm below the dress code & a magnet in your molars that has hiromi’s compass swiveling south.
you’re tugging on his tie now. “come onnn, ‘ruma. please?”
a paralegal should not be referring to their boss as ‘ruma. they also should not be dragging him into the evidence locker at 8PM to look for a ‘missing file’ he swears doesn’t even exist. you’re currently doing both. and higuruma lets you.
your lips are summer sticky & far too hot. your hand’s in his hair now, nails on his nape, his palm bunching at the folds of your skirt. your breath’s ridiculously hot in his mouth as you huff & puff against his tongue, shoving him against the lockers. hiromi slaps your ass when you dare to let out a whine.
BANG !
the loud sound jolts your bodies apart. higuruma’s palm is still on your thigh—“hiromi ?!”
“the auto-lock,” his palms drag over his face. he breathes, “it’s eight-thirty. the basement seals automatically till the morning shift.”
he lets out a low, frustrated groan that vibrates through your rib. even now, you’re still pressed against him, half-clothed tits pressed into his chest as his thumb grazes circles on your hip. he dials a number with his other hand, ignoring the sloppy, gloss-drenched kisses you leave on his jaw as he speaks to the security desk at the end of the line.
half-an-hour later—after higuruma’s stewing & you calming him down with apology head, complete with your hair tied in a sympathy bun of course—the heavy metal door drags open. a security guard armed with a flashlight walks in. he’s greeted with the sight of higuruma buttoning your shirt, sympathy bun long come undone.
you’re free. and you’re in so much trouble.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: UNAUTHORIZED AFTER-HOURS ACCESS & BREACH OF SECURITY
punishment: Written warning & $500 Penalty fine for Emergency Override.
issued by: Levi Ackerman, Chief of security.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]
‘the evidence locker is no place for ‘private deliberations.’ and keep in mind all audio is recorded. in no world should the word ‘tight’ be moaned in an emergency distress call.
II. case two: encrypted outlook thread ( 12:21 PM )
higuruma hiromi ought to teach you a lesson.
frankly, you’re the worst paralegal he’s had the mispleasure of working with since joining pearson hardman. he can’t help but envy his rival, phoenix wright, and his paralegal, maya fey!
you’re much too forgetful, too busty, too disorganized. at 9AM today the files for the high-priority danganronpa case were due on his desk. they didn’t reach him till eleven, and you had the audacity to add on a sticky note labeled ‘sorry!’ and ‘meet me downstairs for some apology head ;)’. higuruma hiromi has concluded that you never learn.
so he decides he’ll teach you himself.
Subject: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: Higuruma Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
Not only were the documents I requested for prep late, they were also extremely disorganized. This is a serious case regarding kidnapped and murdered children, and I suggest you exercise some more seriousness and be more meticulous in your conduct. You also left an implicit sticky-note attached to the files. I suggest you come visit my office, lest I file a formal complaint.
Regards,
Higuruma Hiromi
—
Subject: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
Counselor,
Are you threatening me with a complaint? I’m just doing my job. I did notice your tie was a bit crooked today, though, so I’d be happy to come fix it for you when I swing by your office. Or take it off completely. Let me know when you’d like me to drop in and fix those files!
Regards,
Y/N L/N
—
Subject: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: Higuruma, Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
You can come fix it now. And then I’m going to fix the way you think you can talk to a Senior Associate. I will lock the door, and you will not be released till you admit exactly how much of a headache you’re deliberately trying to be. Don't test me, [Y/N]. I’m a very patient man, but even I have limits.
Higuruma Hiromi.
ー
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
ruma,
i suck at corporate speak 😭 are u saying ur gonna eat my pussy orrrrrr
—
Subject: [SECURITY ALERT] KEYWORD FLAG / SERVER SCRUB
From: Hange Zoë (IT Department)
To: Higuruma, Hiromi; [L/N], [Y/N]
CC: Human Resources (General Inbox)
Hi Hiromi, [Y/N],
Just a friendly heads-up: I’m running the quarterly server audit and the 'harassment/explicit' keyword filter just went off like a fire alarm on your thread. Specifically because of the word 'pussy.’
Sorry to intrude on your corporate sexting session! I’ve paused the sync to the main server, but the automated log has already been forwarded to the Senior Partners. You guys might want to check your calendars. Erwin at HR just opened a new 'Conduct Investigation' folder with both your names on it (uh oh!)
Best of luck to you both! And Y/N, I could be wrong, but I think his last message was implying BDSM; though I don’t doubt he’d be willing to eat you out as well!
Happy eating!
Zoë Hange
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: MISUSE OF COMPANY COMMUNICATION CHANNELS / EXPLICIT DIGITAL CONDUCT
punishment: Mandatory 2-hour 'Digital Ethics' Webinar & temporary monitoring of all outgoing firm emails.
issued by: Erwin Smith, Head of Human Resources.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]
‘It has come to our attention that the Danganronpa Case thread was used for ‘personal negotiations,’ that which our investigative committee has concluded were most likely inappropriate. Please refrain from using the firm’s Outlook servers as your personal Wizz/Tinder moving forward. And Higuruma, we expect better from you. Please report to room three on floor six after lunch break. The door will not be locked.’
III. case three: company zoom meeting ( 5:04 PM )
higuruma hiromi thinks he’s so fucking smart.
he also thinks he’s the king of calendar invites. so when he tells you to send out an email for a company zoom meeting for 6PM but set the zoom’s actual time to five, he supposes his intellect rivals god.
“you’re late, y/n,” higuruma’s voice is close to guttural. he’s laid back on his desk chair, tie loose, legs spread, hair impossibly messy. and you’re knelt on your floor, laptop on your thighs.
you’re sporting the cutest little bath robe higuruma has ever seen. you’re grinning at the screen, cheeks peach-dappled & lips bent in a clumsy smile,
“hi, ‘ruma! wanna see my tits?”
lord, how higuruma adores you !
and who is he to say no? he leans back against his seat, swivel chair groaning with a creeeaaak. he’s already unzipping his pants as you begin to shrug off your pretty pink robe, breasts glazed over & supple in the fluorescent light.
a tiny, bright green notification pings at the bottom of the screen.
[Participants: 48]
higuruma freezes. then rises up, palm curling off his shaft & inching towards his keyboard.
slowly, agonizingly, he clicks on gallery view.
forty-six pearson hardman employees stare at him back.
erwin smith looks like he just witnessed a war promised to him 2000 years ago. hange zoë has a measuring tape held up against the screen. his rival, phoenix, is making a face that reminds him of the many memes of that one streamer you’d often send him—i show meat? levi ackerman has already left the meeting—he knows because the notification flashes at the corner of the screen.
and right there in the center box? harvey specter, senior partner of pearson hardman ltd, has his chin in his hand & eyes intensely locked on to the screen.
is he looking at your breasts ?
oh right, you! you’ve been calling out for the past one minute now, completely unaware of the other forty-six employees watching your wet nipples glisten in the light.
“‘ruma? ‘ruma? ugh, is this thing on?”
higuruma slams his laptop shut. it bangs louder than the gunshot that killed charlie kirk.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: PUBLIC INDECENCY / TOTAL BREACH OF FIRM REPUTATION
punishment: Termination of Employment (Effective Immediately)
issued by: Harvey Specter, Senior Partner ; The Board of Directors.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi (RESIGNED), [Y/N] [L/N]
‘Hey guys! Harvey here. So after a meeting with the rest of the board, we’ve come to the decision to terminate your employment. Higuruma, your resignation letter has been duly received. Gonna be completely honest, that was the last thing I ever expected to see in a corporate meeting. But you two really spiced up my evening, thanks! I tried to negotiate with Jessica and the other directors on your behalves, but sadly they weren’t having it.’
P.S: ‘Nice cock, Hiromi! Very impressive both length and girth wise. And sorry for sneaking a peak at your chest, Y/N. At the very least, your boob job looks very natural. Best of luck to you both!’
⋆˙⟡ cocky!nerd!gojo's convinced he's better than everyone. except, of course, the shy!girl in his physics class of which he has a raging crush on ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 || wc: 2.5k || ac: @/to00fu @/itadakaymasu || some 18+ hcs!
cocky!nerd!gojo who has the air knocked from his lungs the second you walk into his physics on the first day of term. he watches completely awe struck as you walk up and take the only empty seat left, next to him. the rest of the lecture turns to nothing but a dull buzz in the back of his mind as he spends the remainder of it trying his best not to gawk at the pretty girl beside him.
and you were pretty, so much so that cocky!nerd!gojo thinks you might be the most attractive girl he'd ever seen. with your perfectly curated style and that shy demeanor, you'd sucked him into your orbit with absolutely no effort at all.
cocky!nerd!gojo had been yapping his friends ears off ever since the first day of physics, and they were seriously getting sick of it.
"my god... i'm telling you, suguru, sweetest thing i've ever seen. she walked in and my heart started throbbing."
"more like your dick." the fed up man sighed.
but it wasn't like that. usually, chatting up and swooning women was light work for satoru. his intelligence made getting girls for a messy night he wouldn't remember the next day all too easy. but with you? sex hadn't even crossed his mind until suguru had mentioned it.
cocky!nerd!gojo who starts arriving early to physics even though he usually strolls in late everywhere else. he sits in the exact chair beside yours and pretends it's just a coincidence when you show up. when you look doubtful before sitting there he casually slides his bag off the seat and smiles.
“oh. you can sit here if you want.”
cocky!nerd!gojo had decided you were now the single most interesting person in the world despite not really talking to you yet. and still, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't bring himself to act right in front of you. he completely misses everything the lecturer says the next time he has physics. not because the content was hard, (nothing in that class was hard for him.) but because halfway through you'd accidentally bumped his shoulder with your hand, and he couldn't stop replaying the horribly embarrassing way he'd replied when you apologised.
what the fuck?! he was supposed to say 'it's okay' or, 'no worries.' but it came out as that. never in his life had he wanted to jump off the roof of a building as badly as he did now. he covered his mouth with his hand and sat there staring wide eyed at the floor for the rest of the class.
cocky!nerd!gojo who conveniently starts answering every question in class the moment he hears your pen stop writing. the professor asks an especially difficult question that no one can guess, and as soon as satoru sees your head lift from your paper, he proudly barks out the answer. after being congratulated for being correct, he always glances sideways at you waiting to see if you'll look impressed.
cocky!nerd!gojo who loudly argues with the professor about some complicated concept one day just so you will look at him longer than two seconds. the rest of the class thinks he is showing off again, and he is. but when you glance over with wide eyes and whisper,
“wait… you understood that?” he completely forgets the big flashy point he was making and just awkwardly nods.
cocky!nerd!gojo who finally gathers enough courage to talk to you and immediately fumbles the bag.
“so uh... the derivative there is wrong.” he points at your page then panics because he just criticised you.
“not wrong wrong. just… y'know... mathematically improvable?”
you blink up at him with those sweet, confused eyes and he curses under his breath for even trying to be normal about you.
"could you show me how to do it?" you'd asked softly, and cocky!nerd!gojo melts.
cocky!nerd!gojo, with literally anyone else (socially important or not) couldn't give a shit about being nice. he'd make off handed comments about the content being dead easy, laugh at people who got stuck up on questions he flew through, but now that you'd ask him for some help, he was stuttering out a "sure," and leaning over your desk to teach you.
cocky!nerd!gojo who tries to flirt by helping you with homework, but it turns it into a full on physics spiel because he was getting the nervous rambles. you ask one small question and he dives into a ten minute explanation of something you kind of already knew using the back of your notebook as a whiteboard. halfway through he realises you are just watching him talk, smiling a little, and he suddenly loses his train of thought.
cocky!nerd!gojo who notices you struggling with one concept and literally spends all night rewriting the explanation in the simplest way possible. the next day he's tired, but sliding the revision paper he'd made up toward you all the same.
“i was bored.” he says all nonchalant, although his heart starts racing when he see's the shy look of appreciation span across your face.
cocky!nerd!gojo who gets weirdly territorial the first time another guy in your physics tutorial leans over your desk to “help.” the dude’s explanation is wrong anyway, so satoru slides into the seat beside you and corrects the equation without even looking at the paper properly. he explains it twice as fast as necessary just to prove he can. then he glances at the other guy and rolls his eyes.
“next time just ask me, sweetheart. saves you the misinformation.”
cocky!nerd!gojo's never really felt this way about a girl before. he's slept with women here and there, but they couldn't occupy even his daytime thoughts. you, however? occupied his every thought.
no matter how guilty he feels, cocky!nerd!gojo can't stop the late-night fantasies that creep into his head when he's all alone in his apartment. it's always the shy girls, at least that's what they said. his brain would cook up the nastiest of thoughts... what it would be like to push you into the supply closet in the hallway and take you right there, if you'd keep that same shy expression even as he's pumping you full of his thick cock. he'd pathetically fucked his fist countless times to the thought of your pretty whines, what your body would look liked pinned beneath him as he splits you open, what those eyes would look like rolled back into your skull...
cocky!nerd!gojo decides he's had enough, that he can't keep acting like such a virgin loser around you. so, as you're leaving class one day, he catches you as you're about to head to the library, the one he never visits because he knows everything the textbooks want to tell him anyways. regardless, he hits you with the,
"oh, you're headed to the library? me too, can i walk with you?"
cocky!nerd!gojo who now walks with you everyday under the excuse of, 'we take the same course, might as well study together.' he's gotten a little more comfortable around you, he's not so much of a dork after the few library visits where he'd sit there and either stare at you fondly or tutor you free of charge.
"newtonian mechanics? i can help with that. m' real good with the maths, y'know." he'd brag smugly, watching your face to see if you'll praise him.
"thanks a bunch, satoru. you're so smart, i could really use the help." you'd reply with a small smile, and any air of arrogance disappears from his face as he almost chokes on his spit.
"y-yeah... no worries." at least he didn't say 'it's worries' this time, that was an improvement.
cocky!nerd!gojo who gets far cockier the more comfortable you become around him. he starts leaning over your chair when you study so his arm rests across the back of it, caging you in without making it too obvious. when you glance up at him he tilts his head with that full-of-it grin.
“focus on the problem, angel.”
meanwhile he is absolutely not focused on the problem.
cocky!nerd!gojo and you begin planning out study sessions, (satoru would prefer to call them dates, but there was no way he had the balls to refer to them as such.) he'd meet you every few days in the library, tucked away in a corner booth where the light was a little dim. this time, you'd shown up in a cute vintage sweater that hugged your body just right, and two cups of coffee. he leaned back into the booth cushions as you sat opposite him, pretending to be indifferent when really, he was mentally jumping up and down at the fact you'd even thought to buy him something. his exact order, too. although he'd make sure you'd never use your money on him ever again, that was his job now.
cocky!nerd!gojo returned the favour by bringing you pastries the next time you'd planned to meet up. he arrives a few minutes late with two hot chocolates and a paper bag, sliding the contents towards you gently.
"for the other day." he yawns, "i know you like those ones." he says pointing to the bag. he says it flippantly, but his heart is racing as your eyes light up when you pull the treat free.
he wasn't expecting it, but before he could sit down, you've stood up, and you've hugged him.
he fully drops his hot chocolate.
"ah! are you okay?" you fussed, giving him that adorably concerned look.
cocky!nerd!gojo becomes more infatuated with you after that then he'd thought ever imaginable. sure, he had to quickly clean up the mess then excuse himself to deal with his raging hard on in the bathroom, but overall? the feeling of your arms around him has to be the most bliss he'd ever felt.
cocky!nerd!gojo who absolutely refuses to let anyone else tutor you once he realises half the class is suddenly very eager to “study together.” he laughs it off in front of everyone, leaning back in his chair.
“sorry, slots are full.” someone asks what that means and he nods toward you without shame.
“exclusive contract. she’s my study partner.”
cocky!nerd!gojo who nearly dies the first time you fall asleep on his shoulder in the library during one of your study sessions. you had told him you were fine even though your eyes kept slipping shut. ten minutes later your head tips and falls on him. he sits there completely still for almost half an hour in fear of waking you.
cocky!nerd!gojo starts actually flirting with you. he starts sitting on your side of the booth in the library and initiating small touches. sometimes he'll brush a stray strand of hair from your face and others he'll play footsies with you under the table. very high school level stuff, but if your flustered face was anything to go by he'd say it was working. he'd even managed to secure your number after telling you he needed it incase he ever needed to cancel, (a very unlikely variable, he would never.) a privilege he'd started abusing.
gojo [10:35pm]: heyy, are you up?
gojo [10:35pm]: wanna see a picture of my cat tuna 🙏🏻?
you [10:37pm]: hiii yes i'm here! and sure 🙂↕️
gojo [10:37pm]:
you [10:38pm]: AWWWWW WHAT A BABY HE'S SO CUTE 🥹
gojo [10:38pm]: almost as cute as you
you [10:38pm]: youre flirting with me?
gojo [10:39pm]: only if you like it sweetheart
you [10:39pm]: i do
gojo [10:40pm]: oh?
cocky!nerd!gojo takes that as his sign to up the ante. now, he stares shamelessly at you in class, winking when you catch him. he steals your books and draws dumb doodles of you two in the corners, he carries your bags anywhere you go, and he takes every chance he possibly can to talk to you.
"you look real pretty today, love. i—"
"—satoru, quiet!" the lecturer interrupts, ruining his totally suave moment.
but cocky!nerd!gojo doesn't stop at that, oh no. he starts slipping his hand into yours whenever you're walking to the library, he begins hugging you softly and kissing your forehead before you leave, and even then you're lucky to have the walk back to your dorm to yourself. he's always tagging along with a hand low on your back.
"y'know, i could use a flat mate." he'd casually throw out there, "saves you walking home in the dark all the time."
and when you'd bite and tell him you can barley afford dorm life, he hits you with the, "you could always pay me in other ways."
the way you stopped walking slightly and bowed your head in embarrassment really did something to him.
cocky!nerd!gojo sits in utter astonishment one day after class after you'd asked him a question. a simple one, but still capable of taking away his ability to think straight.
"hey, satoru?"
"hm?"
"we're close, right?"
"the closest."
"can i call you toru? like... a nickname?"
oh my god, yes you fucking can.
cocky!nerd!gojo cracks one night when you offer him to come inside after he'd walked you home. he nods softly, clearing his throat, trying to calm himself down. he'd been to plenty of girls' places, why was this one making him all giddy and nervous? he takes in your dorm, and wow, you've really made it your own. it smells like you, it looks like you, every little detail and trinket radiates you. he wants to cry, never in his life has he been so overwhelmed with the need to touch absolutely everything.
it gets worse when cocky!nerd!gojo sits down on your bed, and you plop right down next to him, barley a centimetre apart. he has to breathe, calm down, try hard not to get hard and potentially ruin this absolutely ethereal moment. he's doing in for four out for three when you interrupt his little breathing exercise.
"toru?"
he clears his throat and chokes out a, "yes, love?"
"can i ask a question?"
"anything."
"i hope this isn't weird but. uhm... what exactly are we?"
that was something he definitely wasn't expecting.
"what do you wanna be, hm?" he tries to fake an air of carelessness but fails when you look up at him through those pretty lashes.
"i mean.. we hang out all the time, you walk me everywhere, kiss my head, help me study... m' not sure that's just a friend thing..."
cocky!nerd!gojo smiles in appreciation of your honesty, then plucks up the courage to hold you face and tilt your head towards him.
"i want us to be more than just friends. so, so much more."
"yeah?"
"yeah." he searches your eyes before bringing your face closer. "would you wanna go out with me? like, properly. i've sorta had a thing for you for ages now." he admits through a bashful smile.
"what, like be your girlfriend?" you ask, satoru can feel your cheeks heating beneath his fingers.
"yes, y/n. i want to be yours."
cocky!nerd!gojo is ecstatic when you whisper a small, okay, toru, and pulls your lips in for a slow, well awaited kiss.
cocky!nerd!gojo, after a good three months of plotting, had finally, finally made the shy girl in his physics class his, and he'd never take the role of being your boyfriend for granted.
"so, about moving in..."
"we've been dating for a week?"
what was he if not over presumptuous, even to you sometimes.
You have been CEO Satoru Gojo's head assistant for over two years now - You do everything for him, including cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days, night calls, you're tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice - when he finds out? He's shocked! Don't you love working for a bratty, spoiled Nepo baby 24/7!? He'll do anything to keep you - but you know better. Right?
pairings - CEO! Satoru x asst! reader
warnings - lots of sexual tension, Gojo being a spoiled brat, Nanami being sexy and tired, mentions of masturbation, mentions of Gojo being a lil slut, power dynamics, enemies to lovers type shit -eventual smut, eventual angst, mentions of drug use, two weeks notice vibes - 5.7k
this is a complete rewrite of my first fic - it's gonna be a lot different tbh, just this added 1.5k WC hehe. I'm so excited to do this one in my current writing style! I should have these out rather fast, tags open <3
art creds here
Chapter two>>>
Chapter 1 - Drowning in You
You were tired.
Well past a vacation, insanely exhausted – so damn tired today, no amount of coffee could give you enough pep to make it through the day. You needed a fucking break – a long one at that. Your mind wanders to that vacation away from Tokyo that will never happen, not because you don’t have vacation days or money, no you have days stacked up.
Three weeks of PTO along with four weeks vacation, you could slip away for an entire two months damn near, but how would everything fall apart if you did? No it wasn’t lack of PTO, lack of money, shit you tend to work twelve to sixteen hour days sometimes, five to seven days a week on any given pay schedule.
Why do you work so much?
Well, it is the man you’re peering at across from you – the needy, whiny, annoying ass boss, Satoru Gojo.
Always asking you to stay at work late, always running his errands – even the smallest ones that he could do himself. Constantly saving his ass, covering for him when he didn’t prepare for an event, writing all his speeches, making those presentations. Fuck, you had to find him dates for these events because he couldn’t be bothered.
When the CEO Satoru Gojo wanted something, he got it, and it didn't matter if it ruined every plan you ever had, you had to get it done for him.
He ran casinos, owned his own hotel chain, several nightclubs – some that just seemed a little shady to be honest. You name it, and Satoru Gojo probably owned it. He’d inherited some extreme wealth from his family – but mostly he was self made. Even the tower you worked in – Kamo Tower – was one of the best high rises in the city, everything Gojo touched seemed to turn to gold, or better yet platinum.
You had been so excited two years ago to be hired on as his intern, then ecstatic when you quickly moved up the ranks to be his head assistant. You made very money, in that Gojo was extremely generous – enough to send home to your family and take care of them too. It’s not the money that’s the problem, it’s the lack of a life – you literally were constantly at that man's beck and call.
Your tired eyes lower as you rest your chin on your hand for a moment, for even last night at two am you'd had to run to his fucking rescue. You were asleep, but the phone never stops fucking buzzing.
Dick boss: (yes that’s his name) Sweetheart, I need you.
You: no.
Dick boss: triple OT pay?
You: fuck. What is it?
Dick Boss: I'm in a bit of a bind…
The bind? Oh, that was three passed out naked women in his bed, and a room destroyed from some insane party he’d thrown, white powder residue left in his nose and all over the tables. Well that wouldn’t do – because Satoru needed his beauty rest! Surely you could fix that, right?
Thank you sweetheart, you’re just the best assistant ever!
You had given him the middle finger.
The night before that? Well he had urgently needed you to pick out his outfit for his soiree, he was too coked out to pick apparently – at three in the goddamn morning, you’d had to leave in your pajamas. Gojo Satoru had so many three piece suits, ties and shoes, it was actually disgusting.
Nanami Kento walks up to you, bringing you out of your daydream – he’s a little overworked from his own boss in the building, a trait you two share as head assistants. He hands you a cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup, with your name written on it in sharpie, clearly from one of the coffee shops nearby.
Dirty blonde and handsome, his suit stretched across his muscles just so… and fuck if he didn’t look like he needed a damn vacation too. If you had time to have any sort of fucking life you would have flirted with him a little bit for sure, ask him out for a drink if you could hold your eyes open past ten pm.
Maybe he would have, too?
“Long night?” Kento asks softly, grabbing you out of your thoughts, an amused expression on his face.
You sigh, nodding. “You could say that, thank you for the coffee Nanami! I owe you the next one.”
You let the sweet liquid hit your lips, eyes peering to Gojo's office. There was some lady in there, pretty as fuck in some crazy attempt at business stripper chic, sort of Gojo’s vibe. Yet instead of him eyeing her, he for some reason was scowling at you. What, you dared to sip coffee and not work for two minutes?
“Not at all,” Nanami says, clearing his throat. “Happy birthday.”
“Shit that’s today?” You teased, but you did know, smiling and leaning back.
“We don’t really get birthdays,” he mumbles, running a hand over his face.
You grimace, sipping the coffee again. “No we really don’t, but thank you!”
“Of course. Take care of yourself okay? Gojo is… ugh.” Nanami looks disgusted as he shakes his head, pushing up his fancy glasses. You couldn’t help but giggle at that as he walks off.
Your phone rings, because of course Gojo can't just come to you, how could his spoiled ass walk a few steps!? No, you must go to him.
“Yes, Sir?” You answer the phone, trying not to roll your eyes, tapping your pretty glittery manicured nails on your desk, the one treat you gave yourself.
“Meet me in my office, sweetheart. Now.” That silken command may have excited most women, shit, most human beings, but it was just a constant source of annoyance for you.
You clear your throat and plaster on a smile. “Coming, Mr. Gojo.”
You smooth down your cute little office dress, if you had to be miserable you’d at least be presentable about it! You’re adjusting the buckle of your belt just a tad before walking towards the giant glass office, lit bright by the sun, peering in the door way to see the bane of your existence.
Gojo’s office had floor to ceiling windows surrounding it that had a ridiculous view of the cityscape below. You all were on the very top floor of Kamo Tower, after all. The air was filled with a faint scent, these hints of bergamot from his cologne, it was all something that was very distinctive to Gojo.
He may be a little shit but he smelled good.
He also looked good, reclining casually in that leather chair, his signature dark blue Gucci sunglasses on, round ones that are covering those ridiculous blue eyes. Which you honestly appreciate, because they were so damn pretty it made it hard to focus, even after two years of working as his assistant you weren’t immune to those baby blues.
“Sir?” You stand there cautiously, thinking of just putting in your notice then and fucking there, like that dream you had in your two hours of sleep.
Satoru taps his fingers on his abdomen, just resting there on that dress shirt all casually, long fingers you had no business looking at for too long. “Status update on my meetings?”
“I sent you them all,” he smirks all arrogantly, and you have to grit your teeth not to just crash out on this man. “You have two meetings today, sir. One for the new hotel partnership, then you have a meeting with Mr. Suguru about your casino. And of course, you have your event tonight.”
“Speaking of that,” he says with a little sigh. “I need you to come with me tonight for the charity ball.”
Oh fuck no.
Not on your birthday.
You shut the heavy door behind you, resting your aching head against it for a moment and shutting your eyes.
“I asked for tonight off,” Gojo scoffs at that – this little fucker scoffs, grinning, flashing those damn fangs like some vampire, all glinting from the sun that beams in. “I am not going.”
“No?” He stands, stretching his long elegant limbs, before he walks closer to you, making the scent of him waft through your senses.
“No,” you hate how he makes your heart race when he’s in front of you.
“I'll pay you well, sweetheart – plus you’ll be going as my date for the event, not going to make you actually work. You'll get to relax and shit, get paid to have some fun, drinks and food, dancing…”
“As your date?” You ask, pursing your lips a bit.
“I know, it’s kinda a dream scenario,” he grins like he’s bestowing the finest gift on you. “Don’t fall in love tonight.”
“Psh,” you roll your eyes. “Since when does CEO Satoru need a date? Especially a date with me. I can just arrange you a date like I always do.”
“It's a delicate partnership and I need someone who is smart. Not eye candy,” well fucking ouch. “I need you, little law school girl. Plus you’re American, and a lot of the people there are too, so it’s a no brainer.”
Not eye candy.
Men flirt with you pretty frequently actually, on the very rare occasions you’re not working you’ve had quite a few ask you out. You know you’re a pretty girl, but of course Gojo banged models on the regular, and you had no time to try to even attempt to look like a model. Shit, you barely had time to slap on some mascara and concealer every day to hide how tired you were.
“So you don't need anyone pretty, is that what you're saying?”
Satoru pauses then, frowning at you.
“What, no? You're very pretty,” he'd never said that about you – HR and all. Though he’d banged damn near all his assistants besides you, Satoru barely complimented your work let alone your looks.
Him calling you pretty really fucks you up, you have to catch your breath, looking up at him, curious how he had suddenly gotten just an inch away.
Sneaky ass.
“‘Not eye candy,’ isn’t that what it means?”
“Well no, that’s not what it means, just you dress kinda boring,” you blink again, as he digs himself into a hole. “No like…just all businessy and shit? You don’t dress sexy is all. I mean… not that you have to, I’ve never seen you not in a business dress unless it’s at night and I call you, then you wear pajama shorts and shit.”
You snort at that, shaking your head – you loved clothes, and to dress up, but of course he probably wouldn’t know that. “I would dress up if I had a life. All I do is work for you.”
“Exactly, that’s what I mean by not ‘eye candy’. How you dress, not your looks,” this man… “But I'll make sure your outfit looks killer, no need to thank me.”
Gojo winks at you, lowering his shades, those insane cerulean eyes making you overheat against your will. Big and glittering with silver, the irises the prettiest blue that the earth could scarcely recreate. Eyes that made anyone do anything he wanted, and they always worked – You were almost immune to that.
You take a breath for courage, it’s about time you said something, especially if your plan is to go. “It's my birthday and you want me to work overtime?”
Gojo frowns. “Birthday?”
He looks utterly confused, as if you should not have one of them, for it’s inconvenient. “Yeah. Twenty-sixth.”
He evaluates you carefully. “Why did I think you were like twenty two?”
“I’m not sure. If I was I wouldn’t even have my law degree yet, baby face maybe,” you do look young but then, so does Satoru. “But it’s actually my third birthday here, and you have never given me the day off. I will absolutely not put in OT.”
“What, you have some big plans, hot shot?”
No. Sure don't. “Yep.”
“Cancel em,” he shakes a hand dismissively and you scowl. “What? Need me to cancel them?
“No! I won’t.” You cross your arms under your breasts, and his gaze darts down for the briefest of moments, before flickering back to your face.
“No? What do you mean ‘no’?”
No one turned Gojo down – no one ever told the gorgeous, manchild of a CEO the word ‘no’ to anything. His six-foot-four frame bends over just a bit as he places an arm on one side of you, peering down, frown still on his handsome features, eyes lidded just a bit. you glare back up at him.
“Gojo, I'm really exhausted, and I just want to have fun and actually relax for my birthday,” he gasps, all affronted.
“What, then have fun with me! I’m fun!”
“That's work. Not fun.”
“Hmm,” he tilts your chin up with his long fingers, making you peer up at him, surprised at the contact and what it makes you feel, your tummy clenches up. “I'll make it fun, I promise. Then I'll give you the day off tomorrow. Deal?”
You are gonna fucking agree, aren’t you?
“Gojo, I could find you a smart American girl? Eye candy too,” you offer, he shakes his head, leaning too close.
“You're my best, sweetheart, I need you by my side.”
Bastard. Not him batting his pretty white lashes.
You sigh. “Ugh. Fine.”
He grins, and you catch a shaly breath as he backs away. “Good girl.”
“Don’t say that!?”
“Why not?” He’s sticking his hands in his pockets now, grin widening. “I'll have a brand new outfit brought to your apartment later? I’m assuming you don’t have anything fancy enough for this event.”
“Probably not…” You’re not turning down free dresses from Satoru Gojo’s rich ass. “Fine. Need my size?”
His eyes are drinking you in as he smirks, like he’s touching your body. “You think I haven’t gathered your size by now?”
Fuck.
Your cheeks heat up at his little assessment, the way it feels like he’s brushing his fingers over your body – though you’re used to him, at the end of the day you still had a pussy, and it reacted to him in ways that make you irritated. Satoru just chuckles deeply, turning away and waving a hand.
“You're dismissed, sweetheart. See you tonight.”
Just like that, your birthday night was just…
Work.
No you weren’t doing anything – but you could have cuddled on your couch! Not had to mingle and spend a night with Satoru Gojo of all people.
You rush out all irritated, downing your now cold coffee and cursing that blue eyed man.
****
“Can’t wait to put in my two weeks ugh,” you grumble to yourself as you finish up your makeup.
If you had to work your birthday you would absolutely look gorgeous for it – lashes, winged liner, red lips.
The dress he had ordered laid in a satin box on your pretty white day bed. You open it finally, the pretty black gown encased in baby blue and white tissue paper, the colors of the little shit Gojo himself. You gently pull out the gown and hold it up, and almost all of your irritation dies off.
Fuck if he doesn’t have good taste.
Black and decked with sequins, it glitters in the light, it was a silky fabric, soft as a caress against your skin. You undo the little zipper and peer in the mirror, sliding it on, it glides over your curves perfectly, coming to cinch in at the nip of your waist. The neckline was slutty dear lord – it plunged ridiculously low in fact, revealing a generous amount of cleavage that you typically kept under wraps at work.
The question was, how did Gojo know your damn measurements?
Pervert is what he was.
A pervert with good taste.
The dress had a slit that went dangerously up one of your thighs, exposing nearly all of one leg, while the rest of the dress hit the floor. It was as if he truly knew every measurement you had, better than if you’d went and tailored the damn thing.
Well at least you get a pretty dress for your pain and suffering!
You spin to look at the back of the dress in front of the mirror, it dips daringly low as well, exposing the smooth expanse of skin, from shoulder blades down to the dimples on your lower back. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel super pretty in a dress like this.
You rummage through your little jewelry box, eyeing to see what would work with the dress, and deciding on a pretty silver necklace and earrings, something simple. You’re clipping the earrings on when a text pops up.
Dick Boss: Waiting out front in the car.
You: Just a few.
You slip on your shoes and spritz some body spray on, your favorite from Victoria’s Secret you save for special things, when another text blings.
Dick Boss: I’m waiting…
Fucking Gojo. Ugh.
You: Coming now.
You lock up and head down the stairs of the apartment building, and see Ijichi Kiyotaka, Gojo’s driver, opening the door of the black limo for you. Kiyotaka, who somehow was one year younger than you, that boggled your mind more than Nanami only being one year older.
Geto and Gojo wore people out.
If you didn’t have a great skincare routine, Gojo would make you look old too.
“My lady,” he says sweetly, and you smile at him, sliding in, and there Gojo was across from you, long arms spread across the backs of the seat, his head resting back so that his throat was exposed.
His head snaps down, and he looks right at you, no sunglasses, only those pretty blue eyes, the pouty pink lips parted. You tense, prepared for some lewd comment or rude one, but he’s quiet – blinking those white spiky lashes, arms sliding down as Kiyotaka shuts the door, his gaze taking you in ever so slowly.
Achingly slow, as if he had all the time in the world. You felt yourself holding your breath as it lazily traveled down and back up your body, clutching your little black evening bag tightly.
“You look…” He trails off, shaking his head a bit.
How does Gojo say how good you look?
Since when is Satoru Gojo tongue tied like this? And he is tongue tied, you’re so pretty tonight he can hardly catch his heart from racing, so effortlessly beautiful always in your business suits, but he’s never seen you like this. Twenty sixth birthday and he came up with excuses to make you come with him.
Yeah, Satoru knows it’s your birthday.
He came up with the idea to ‘need you’ like the selfish little shit he is, like he comes up with every idea ever, random things he knows damn well he can do himself, but why would he? When he can look at his pretty assistant constantly, hear her angry sigh and smell whatever body spray she has sprtized on her?
Satoru Gojo was a dick, and he knows it.
“Thank you for the dress,” you say softly, as he just… stares.
“Of course, consider it my birthday gift,” he smirks then, as if he’s composed himself. “You look…”
Beautiful.
Gorgeous.
Ethereal.
“Really fucking hot.”
Really Satoru, can’t come up with anything better?
You giggle at that – not beautiful or breathtaking, but would that really be something Gojo would say? No, you’ll take it. “Thank you, the dress is so beautiful.”
“Your body is that banging and you hide it like that?” He was somehow right next to you suddenly, ever the sneaky little jerk, and you tremble a bit at the nearness. “I should reprimand you, as your boss ya know.”
You roll your eyes and snort. “I can’t dress like this at work, Gojo.”
“You sure the fuck can. I’m the boss, I say so,” his fingertips trailed down your shoulder, and it sends tingles through your body, making you even more irritated at him. Why is he so close? “I’m buying you an entire new wardrobe.”
“The fuck you are, I like to be professional, unlike you,” you smack his hand off errantly, and your bare shoulder grows cold without the touch, goosebumps laid out in a network across your skin.
“You do really look good,” you take in his outfit, a black tux which fit his slim muscles perfectly – It was some shit Bruce Wayne would wear at one of his charity auctions.
Maybe Gojo was some rich superhero or villain. It would fit.
“You do too,” you murmur softly. “You always do.”
“I know,” Satoru winks at you as you roll your eyes.
Conceited ass Satoru.
He’s leaning forward to snatch up champagne, brushing against you far too intimately, you hold your breath and jerk just a bit when he pops it, pouring you each a pretty flute full. You take one, letting the bubbles tickle your nose, sipping the tart drink, moaning softly and shutting your eyes.
“Delicious,” you lick your lower lip and find him a breath away once more. You don’t move, but you’re frozen in place, confused as he looks at you like he never has. “Satoru?”
“Are you really thinking of quitting?” He asks then, his voice breaking, eyes gone dark. You have never seen Gojo like this.
You blink just a bit, taking a breath. “Uh… how did you know?”
“I know everything, baby girl,” he gently runs his long fingers through your hair, a rare frown on his lips.
“Baby girl? What the heck, Satoru… Yes I was thinking of it, and seducing me is not going to change my mind. Is that the point of this?” You demand, irritated, and against your better judgement, fucking horny.
Fuck Gojo – not literally.
His eyes study your own seriously now, jaw setting. “If that was my intention, you’d damn sure know.”
Your breaths come faster, every word was pouring like honey from his tongue, his hand tightening in your hair, yanking your head back ever so slightly to look up at him – making your mind race.
Imagine him pulling it when you…
Satoru’s imagining it right now, pulling your hair as you suck his cock down your loud little mouth, fucking your throat till it’s sore and you can’t talk the next day. Filthy images as the strands card through his fingers, and you scowl up at him, your hands clenched into fists against his chest, on the material of his dress shirt.
God you’re pretty.
“Oh, would I?” You challenge him, god you always do, notching your chin up a bit, Satoru laughs without humor.
“How many women have you heard me fuck in my office, hmm?” You swallow nervously, eyes narrowing. “How many have you had to send home for me? You think I don’t know how to fuck you dumb if I wanted to? Think I couldn’t rail your pretty cunt so hard you squirt all over me? Oh sweetheart, you wouldn’t even be able to walk when I finished with you.”
Gojo’s filthy fucking whisper was against your lips, it’s goddamn diabolical how he talks, you could taste the champagne sweet on his breath, mixed with his mints he constantly sucks on, your mouth almost salivates in his proximity. He wasn’t touching you, but he was so close you could feel him, those images running rampant.
“I won’t fuck you though, so what’s the point of even joking about it!? You don’t want me anyway. Not your type,” he snorts at that, one of his big hands on your waist, touching the bare skin on your back and wreaking havoc on every sense you’ve ever had.
“You know my type?”
“I sure do,” his thumb brushes underneath your breast, an action that makes your nipples tighten, aching as they press against the sequined gown. Damn if his gaze didn’t drop down, noticing the peaks and humming to himself.
“The women who entertain me,” his fingers move in little circles against your ribcage, eyes shooting back up to yours. “They aren’t necessarily my type.”
“Hmm,” it’s difficult to focus, you sip your champagne, leaning back a bit, but Gojo’s grip stays, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. “It doesn’t matter, you’re just talking out of your ass. Too much cocaine tonight?”
His grip tightens, and it makes you gasp, looking up at his darkened eyes in the dim light of the limo. “I haven’t had any, I’m just pretty fucking irritated my best assistant wants to leave. You’re ungrateful.”
“Ungrateful!” You snort at that, tossing back the champagne and grabbing at his hand, his wrist, tugging at it. “How the fuck, Satoru? I literally do everything for you!”
“And I pay you damn good!”
“I know,” you scowl up at him. “Guess what? I’d rather be broke somewhere than do sixteen hour days. It’s my damn birthday and here I am!”
Satoru scoffs and your fingers itch to smack him. “As if you really had plans. You have no friends and no life.”
“Bullshit,” you grit your teeth, shoving at his hard chest. “That’s because I have no damn time to make any! You think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend or something by now?”
“Maybe that’s your problem, why you’re so bitchy and stuck up all the damn time. You need to get fucked good.”
You slap him then. Slap your Boss.
Slap Gojo Satoru.
His hand catches your wrist, long fingers wrapping it tightly, pale cheek just blooming pink from your mark, your hand stings from the hit, breath making your chest rise and fall as his lips curve down.
“Ring a little true, sweetheart?”
“I can get fucked if I want, any time thank you very much,” you yank your hand back and shake it out.
“I didn’t say that, clearly you can get fucked,” his voice deepens, as he imagines all the ways he’d have you. “It’s just you don’t even want to, and you blame it on my hours, as if you were the type to fuck around.”
“I’d fuck Nanami Kento if I had any damn time,” Gojo’s eyes widen at that, brows raised. “Yep. Sure would, he’s handsome – oh and he remembered my birthday. If either of us had time I sure would, so does that answer it for you?”
Your heart beats in your chest, brutally, the thudding loud in your ears as the blood rushes through at the statement, and Gojo’s grip on your waist tightens. “You would fuck… Nanami Kento?”
Ah, you made him mad – Good.
“Who wouldn’t? He’s hot,” you shrug casually, smiling all fucking mean at him now.
“Out of anyone in the office?” He asks, voice quiet – this side of Gojo no one ever really sees, when he’s utterly jealous, unhinged and insane.
You make him this way.
“Mmhmm,” you answer, then he smirks.
“Including me?”
You open your mouth to say yes, but you know it’s not fucking true. Of course you’d have fucked Gojo, if he wasn’t a dick boss, if he was just a man…
Look at him, who wouldn’t?
“Cat got your tongue?” His free hand catches your chin, forcing your gaze to his.
You swallow nervously, licking your lips and drawing his attention to them. “No.”
“No, what?”
“No… not including you, fuck is that what you want to hear? That I’m not blind? Of course you’re attractive, and you know it, stupid!”
He scoffs. “You’re childish.”
“Me, childish!? You are!” You shove at him again, and he lets you go, you take a greedy breath and down more champagne. “It changes nothing, I am planning to leave. I will find a replacement, someone even better than me.”
“There is no one better,” his voice sounds so damn hurt – it sounds sincere, a rare thing for Gojo, emotion cracking in his voice as he downs his own glass and looks away from you.
“You think what, fucking me will keep me as your damn assistant?”
“It’s worth a shot, I’m the best fuck there is,” you scoff at that, Satoru just shrugs, some of that casual, conceited demeanor coming back, and you wanted to yell at your body for its reaction.
“It won’t happen,” you say firmly now. He smiles.
“Yeah? Why?”
“You’re my boss!”
“But you’re leaving.”
“I…” Fuck him.
“Hmm? You seem at a loss for words,” you scowl, looking out the window as the lights flickered by, setting down your drink and crossing your arms.
“Are we there yet?”
He laughs now. “See? Childish.”
“Says you!”
“You need a good orgasm, or ten. Get you to be less of a stuck up nag,” you gasp at his audacity, turning back and seeing his mean little grin.
“I do not! And I am not stuck up!”
“You do, and you are.”
“I orgasm plenty, thanks!” You feel your body on fire at that, and Gojo couldn’t look more satisfied, like the Cheshire fucking cat, the grin as wide as it could go, running his hand through his silken white locks that fall a little too perfect.
“Oh, do tell, pretty little assistant,” he practically purrs those words, leaning forward. “I’m dying to know how.”
“Cut the shit, Satoru,” you roll your eyes at him. “You’ve never talked like this in the years I’ve worked with you, where the fuck do you get off?”
“I get off on women, or in their mouths…” He shrugs like the little slut he is, enjoying your open mouth, once again lost for words.
“You know I did not mean that!” You hiss.
“Where do you get off? On a dildo maybe,” you blink, eyebrows low in a scowl, wanting to hit him again. “No, don’t look the type. Maybe a rose toy. Hmm… or just these little things.”
Gojo lifts your hand, ridiculously small in his own grip – the man has five inch fingers or more, you swear, and the touch alone is ruining you – the sight of your hand swallowed by him.
“They don’t hit deep enough, do they?” His whisper is so damn cocky, you can’t stand him.
Can’t stand thinking of his fingers inside you.
You’re breathless, as he holds out his own hand against yours, fingers so fucking long they rivaled the length of men you’ve been with. Likely larger than the couple of dudes in college, which was about all of your experience, Gojo’s probably done more in a night that you have – slutty ass CEO Nepo baby that he is.
“I… you…” You want to cuss him out, quit right then.
You should quit!
You also want his fingers inside your now soaking wet cunt.
Fuck him.
“I could get you off, put you in a good mood,” his hand takes your own, putting it right between your thighs, making you whimper. “We don’t have to fuck for that, there are so many ways I can keep my pretty assistant happy.”
“Why… are you…act- acting like this?” You manage to breathe out, but you have no energy to move away from him, or shove his hand off. – because if you were being honest with yourself, you’d love to fuck your frustration out on him.
“Maybe I realize how much I need you to stay as my assistant,” Gojo’s plump lips kiss down your jaw, his hand gently pressing yours against your soppy little cunt over those panties, moaning in your ear. “Is my assistant already so hot for me? Are you that easy to get wet?”
You bite your lower lip, feeling your own fingers led by his brush over your soaking wet panties. “F-fuck off…” It’s a whisper, a pathetic one at that – you want it, and you hate him.
You hate that your walls are just pulsing around nothing, that your clit is eagerly twitching against your joined fingers through the barrier of your panties, that the moan of your name from his lips against your ear made you wonder what he sounded like when he came.
Gojo slides his own finger against your panties for a brief moment as he moves yours – pausing, moaning again in that slutty way he does – pulling back to look at you.
You’re so fucking wet, all Satoru can do is imagine burying his face, letting you use him – every time he pisses you off you could push him to his knees and spread those pretty thighs, You could make him lick, kiss, taste your pretty cunt as his endless apologies, as he drags his fingertip higher, and uses his more than yours, he watches you.
You were so gorgeous like this.
“Fuck,” he whispers, something was just different about you. Gojo with women was always so self assured, but something about touching you has him vulnerable, when his long finger presses against the damp sticky fabric, just grazing your clit. “Sweetheart…”
He shouldn’t talk like that, look like that, you’re arching your hips up, and his fingertip is running up up slightly, pressing more firmly, your hand grips his collar, tugging him close. You’re dumb to do this, to roll your hips and whine all needy, watching as his eyes go black.
Gojo’s lips were just a breath away…
“We’re here, Sir, my Lady,” Kiyotaka’s voice has you both realize the limo had stopped.
Fuck.
You two shoot apart, and you struggle to catch your breath, adjusting your dress hastily, gulping down one more glass for good measure. Gojo turns and adjusts his pants, tugging his cock up into his waist band so he wouldn’t have a bulge at this damn event – not even looking at you.
How can he look at you without sinking to his knees and begging you to coat his face right now?
He turns back and clears his throat, you curse softly when you finally notice his tie is all fucked up.
“You can’t tie properly, Satoru,” you murmur, leaning over to him, pulling it apart gently and re-tying it until it’s perfect. You notice his Adam's apple bob up and down, and he’s shockingly quiet, just looking at you.
Gojo Satoru, quiet.
“There,” your hands linger, your eyes darting up to his lips once more.
“Thanks,” he says gruffly, and your eyes meet, the two of you at a loss for words in the quiet of the limo.
What the fuck just happened?
Kiyotaka opens the door, exposing you both gratefully to some cool night air, and you get out, curious just how the fuck this birthday night was going to go.
loves i'm dying to hear what you think ahhhh! ofc i'll always love the original and keep that up but I'm excited for this <3
🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 you’ve known yuuji itadori since the days where he was all scrapes and bleeding knees. you’ve loved him since the day he first called you pretty and saved you the last red popsicle. you’ve never been able to have him, because your best friend and his little sister has always stood in the way (2.3K)
🏁 safety car ! ⋆ not safe for work ⋆ smut ⋆ eighteen plus only. college au, not canon compliant, characters in 20s, mutual pining, friends to lovers, forbidden romance, jealousy, small legal age gap (2 years), dry humping, car sex, clothed sex, best friend’s older brother yuuji itadori & fem reader.
the third oldest of four siblings who lived in the last house on the street. he came with two brothers and a sister your age, who decided the first day that you met — you would be best friends for the rest of your lives.
it was a pinky promise, sacred and sworn — overseen by two sets of parents in your backyard, early spring when you were around five. you didn’t know at the time it would come with a decade of yearning and heartbreak. an older brother you could never have, one you’d never get to keep. that one bad thing you’d crave for years on end.
he’s always been there, yuuji has, in the background of all your memories. never mean to you, like sukuna was (the oldest brother) and a lot more friendly than the nervous wreck choso (the middle brother) but always loud in your ear and disrupting tea parties or sleepovers when you spent the night with his little sister. your best friend who you’d drawn a contract, of course in brown crayon, stating that you’d never pick yuuji itadori over her.
even when he’d save you the last red ice-pop instead of sister because you liked them better and she always tossed them halfway through. even when he’d let you sit on the back of his bike in the summer because you’d never quite learned how to ride. even when he’d invited you to his all boys birthday party, and walked you out of the laser tag room because you’d been too scared of the dark to keep playing. you remember his sister being upset with you that day.
you realise that you like him very early on. yuuji itadori, that is. yuuji who had been the first ever boy to say your hair looked nice after your mum made it pretty with a new silk ribbon. yuuji who smelled like the park on a hot day, like tarmac but also earthy because he’d come home coated in soil down to his scraped knees that bled through his jeans. yuuji who chased his little sister through the house with mud tracks, blamed it on the two of you but ended up stuck with the punishment anyways. the same yuuji who went to middle school ahead of you both just by two years and deemed it his duty to walk you home from elementary, he’d wait for you by the gates all scary with bandages on his cheeks from the fights he’d get into, but smiley all the same.
yuuji, who carried you back home the summer before you started high school when you broke your wrist running the woods behind his house — who didn’t flinch when your best friend scolded him for being a clutz. it was her fault not his. it’s always funny to see them bicker, she’s always so protective of you and yuuji the same. you feel a part of their bond, like you belong with the two of them at your side … which is why the guilt hurts when you start to look at yuuji differently that summer. when he starts to grow into his looks and your heart starts to flutter every time he’s near.
you try not to overthink how much he cares for you, staying awake with you while you wait in the ER to be seen — smiling with you and holding your free hand when they put a cast on you. he bares the burden of telling your parents, begs them not to punish you but him instead. for a girl at fourteen it’s chivalry. you pretend it isn’t love.
in high school you walk the halls with your best friend, fully in love with her brother — you pretend it doesn’t hurt that he’s become so popular, that all the cheerleaders seem to have his attention and he’s got so many friends he doesn’t need to hang out with his little sister and her minion anymore. you sit through awkward double dates at the local diner so your friend can get closer to her crush but your heart most looks forward to yuuji picking you both up at the end of the night in the old truck he decides to fix up in time for college.
“boys your age don’t know what they want,” he leans back from the driver’s seat to tell you — hair wild and brown eyes warm. “be careful.”
and you want to ask him if he knows what he wants. if it’s you. you don’t.
the two years where, yuuji is in college before you can join him are the worst. he hardly visits, off on his sports scholarship which takes up all his time and you miss him more than anything — hopelessly in love and endlessly yearning. your best friend gets a boyfriend and suddenly life doesn’t feel like how it was back then, no more ice pops made with red fruit and juices that run down your arm, no more strapped knees and hospital rooms for sprained bones. no more late night drives in yuuji’s truck after curfew. it hurts, and the boys at school suck — they’re not kind like itadori is.
when you’re in college yourself, it’s all the same. boys still suck except they major in business or economics or compsci and party instead of studying. your best friend is at a college two hours away and you take turns visiting one another every weekend — she barely brings up yuuji, but the little fragments she shares of him still makes your heart flutter. you ask if he has a girlfriend. he’s never brought anyone back home for winter break. once the weekends end, you’re back on your own again rolling through the mundane with your heart tucked under your sleeve until you see it. him. pink hair and brown eyes, his laugh catching in the spring breeze — yuuji is there. on your campus for some kind of away game and when he sees you. everything clicks. it feels right.
after practise that day he takes you for a drive, still in his truck from high school — couldn’t get rid of her, too many memories. your laugh is woven into the seatbelts in the back seat and your tears are probably soaked in the material too. yuuji drove down ahead of his teammates to visit a friend, not a girl. he adds. the whole drive your heart hammers in your chest so loud you think he might be able to hear it and if he does — yuuji says nothing. though he looks at you every five seconds, gaze flickering away from the road to watch your face. the silence broken into pieces by the small, aimless questions he asks you. how’ve you been? are you liking your classes and …
“can i kiss you?”
he asks once you’ve stopped, hidden somewhere in the back of a fast food parking lot. your conversation had lulled, but the tension had grown thick — so much so that not even a knife could slide through. the fries the cinnamon twists itadori had ordered for you both cool on the console between you, brown eyes are hazy and hooded with an emotion you can’t quite place — striking nerves through your heart almost like cupid’s arrow. you’ve wanted nothing more for a decade and a half. To be looked at by yuuji in the way he’s looking at you now. to be wanted by him.
“why?” you ask.
yuuji leans closer, the palm of his hand sliding to cup your face. “i’ve missed you, is all.”
he says back.
a million thoughts rush through your mind, the longing you’ve always felt. the stupid, teenage girl crush that’s always lingered in the back of your mind. the guilt you’d feel hiding this from your best friend, his little sister — his only sister. she’s all you have left, a constant in your life … but your selfishness overrides anything you feel towards her. the promise you’d made in crayon on a4 paper as a child disintegrating into dust as you nod eagerly, shyly, leaning into yuuji’s touch like someone might rip it away from you all too soon.
“please?” you blink slow, doe like in a manner that makes itadori groan as though he’s been shot in the chest. it’s needy, hungry and it makes you melt in your seat. “please kiss me, yuuji…”
within a heart beat his lips are on yours, searing feverish like glass that’s been heated to the highest degree. there’s so much feeling behind the way yuuji moves, tender love and notes of longing and maybe lust that no longer feels like it’s one sided. when he kisses you everything sort of… clicks into place, this is what you’ve needed and dreamed of for years and it’s everything you wanted. his hand slips to the back of your neck, comforting and possessive as though he doesn’t want you to slip through his fingers, and he pulls you further into the messy lip lock. his tongue swipes over your bottom lip, tasting the strawberry lip balm you’d slapped on earlier — yuuji asks, he doesn’t take. waiting for you to open up to him like a flower in bloom.
your own fingers tangle in messy, windswept hair that reminds you of the cherry blossoms across campus — they tug at and tighten in his locks bringing him further into you to the point where you think itadori might crawl over the console just to have you. he tastes like red-juice popsicles and feels like the summer sun beating down on your skin. yuuji feels like home against you and it’s something that you didn’t even know you’d missed.
things progress faster than you realise, not that you mind, and it should feel wrong, so , so wrong to be kissing your best friend’s older brother like this — to be letting him pull you into the back seat, hands sliding under your worn out high school hoodie to settle on your hips as he tugs you onto his lap. you should feel sick to your stomach every time he moans your name like it’s a sin he’s been waiting to taste his whole life.
you gasp itadori’s name back almost rehearsed — like you haven’t pictured him with you like this before. and when he rocks his hips up against yours, concealed hardness straining against his jeans with the touch material hot on your clit through your denim shorts, the world stops just for the top of you. “waited so long,” yuuji mumbles, lips swollen, breathing ragged and hands everywhere. “never thought you’d let me…”
“i’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his mouth, tongue curled against his and your salvia smeared across his rosy lips. yuuji blinks up at you like you’ve just given him the whole world and you lazily sling your arms over his broad shoulders — hiding in your own bicep, suddenly shy. “i’ve always wanted you.”
smiling to himself, yuuji’s hands map their way up to your ribcage, feeling for your thrumming heart — dizzy from the heat in his car and the confession on your lips. carefully, he pulls you back and forth over his lap, watching you fight and lose your own battle of holding back dulcet mewls and whimpers. “you have no idea how happy that makes me, to hear you say that.” he kisses your cheek, much gentler than before. his forehead presses into your cheek and itadori grinds harder, faster making sure there’s a constant delightful pressure against your throbbing clit.
his long lashes flutter against your cheek like angel’s kisses — barely there, unlike the thickness of his clothed erection against your soaking mound, as it drools between the layers of your clothes. he lets you hug him close, lets you swivel yourself down on him and take what you need in the back of his car. the one where you’d laughed with your best friend, cried against his little sister.
casting her from your mind, you screw your eyes shut and focus on the blistering bliss that brews in your lower belly. chanting his name as though it’s all you’ve ever known. “yuu, yuuji — ah! it feels…” you whisper, brain miles behind the pace of your hips as they buck down against his. when yuuji pushes up, you push down, that little pleasure nub tucked between puffy pussy lips catching on his rock hard girth. “feels so—”
wrong. so good. so insane and crazy. but you can’t stop, wanting him, needing him, grinding on him.
“i know baby, i know,” yuuji whimpers, pet name slipping out like its natural — too far gone. “feel it too, you got me. ‘m right here. promise, i’m with you.”
itadori hugs you close now, the strength of his arms tugging you across his lap and his length until you’re both panting messes slumped against one another — the tensions and the highs you’ve been building stacking so high there’s no choice but for all of it to come crashing down. you’re all curses and cumming, orgasms that rip through space and time in sync, soaking your shorts and running his jeans. it’s messy, has you trembling but yuuji is in no better state, lips dropping to your collar bones as you sniffle into his hair. both of you ruined for everyone else but each other.
regret should follow fast, you should push him away and have him drive you home because you’ve betrayed the only other person in your life to have cared. your best friend, mere miles away — expecting to see you this weekend, ready to greet you with her adoring smile and big heart she’s always kept you in. you should feel like shit for fucking her older brother.
but you don’t and you don’t care what happens beyond tonight, because you’ve wanted yuuji for longer than you’ve ever known and maybe naively you think this’ll work out.
this falling in love and fucking your best friend’s older brother behind her back thing.
end. reblogs and comments are always appreciated! just liking doesn't do anything. so leave a comment to motivate this writer if you'd like to see more!!
synopsis: a story in which a depressed satoru gets sent to the future and sees just how bright it eventually becomes. meanwhile, you're reminded of how much of a brat your husband used to be when you first started dating.
cw: MDNI, time travel, smut w/ a touch of angst bc we LOVE plot, satoru's actually so mean at first lol, dad!jo (him and reader share a daughter together)
notes: hiiii we got 6.5k words for this one ❤️ comm for the lovely @sadlittlecucumber i hope u like!!!!
song rec: drag path — twenty one pilots
Satoru’s life ended up being a fucking bummer.
His best friend’s a mass murderer. Shoko’s gone off to do her own thing with medicine. Nanami left to go become a banker or whatever. Ijichi’s… Ijichi. Oh, and Haibara’s dead. Everyone who’s alive seems to have moved on— so should Satoru, honestly. But times proved that to be quite difficult.
He’s starting to understand where Suguru was coming from with the whole exorcise-absorb mantra. Except for him, it was exorcise and destroy, leaving every cursed site he’s stepped foot on looking like god himself decided to hit the reset button to obliterate the place.
Nobody says anything about it. He’s probably the closest thing to a god. Despite having tried his hardest all throughout his youth to fit in and act as if he was just like everyone else, people were still terrified to fuck with him.
And despite the chaos he’s constantly surrounded by— mainly from his own doing— the days still find a way to bleed into each other, morphing into a never ending cycle of boredom and violence. It’s quite the combo. The higher ups are lucky he’s too tired to plot anything behind their backs.
He’s exhausted.
The past is too blurry. The future’s too bleak.
Gojo was bound to fuck up sooner or later. The thought of him finally snapping like Suguru did, dangling in the back of his mind, taunting him.
He didn’t snap. It’s so much worse than that. At least in the eyes of the arrogant boy who got bested by, what he assumed to be a grade two curse because of how pudgy and stupid it looked. The thing that caught him lacking looked like a fucking blob fish that struggled with crippling anxiety, how the hell was he supposed to know that it could mess with timeof all things?
One moment he’s laughing at the way it looks, the next he’s in the complete dark.
That was the first time he’s smiled in months, by the way.
“Huh?” Satoru huffs out, trying to look around before eventually realizing that he has a blindfold on, and rips it off in annoyance. “Don’t tell me that thing knocked me out,” he begins to grumble to himself. It’d explain why he had a blindfold on… but then he realized he was in a completely different outfit, one that you didn’t put on someone who was currently in rest and recovery.
He highly doubts Shoko would even change him, anyway, at least not for this.
“Oh hey, you’re home.”
Home?
He looks around, and all he knows is this isn’t the dorm he’s continued to stay in after graduation, purely due to the fact that he was already out on missions for up to 18 hours each day. Not to mention that the penthouse he was currently standing in was too clean to be his. Too warm. Way too comfortable.
You already knew there was something deeply off in those first few seconds of looking into his eyes. This wasn’t your husband— this was the hot mess you met and still fell in love with all those years ago.
You tilt your head to the side, more curious than cautious, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” he snorts, literally the worst liar ever. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know,” you hum, holding eye contact long enough to leave him feeling a bit unsettled. “You tell me.”
First of all, who the fuck do you think you are speaking to him like that?
Second, who even are you?
Something big and shiny on your finger catches his attention, then he looks at his own hand that has an equally shiny band around his ring finger.
Fuck.
“Honey–”
Satoru physically cringes at the pet name, giving himself away once again.
“I’m not Satoru,” he blurts out, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “I mean, I am, but I’m not— FUCK– some fuckin’ curse blasted me into the future, and I need to go back.”
Well, that was quick. He’s always quick to fold under pressure when it comes to you— it’s something he’s unaware of though, as he fights back the urge to start pacing back and forth.
There’s a light smack from your mouth when you go to open it, only for the words to never even come, let alone die out. Nothing about this surprises you. This is not the craziest thing that’s happened since you’ve met Satoru.
Your lips thin into a smile as you take a deep breath, knowing you had no choice but to accept your new circumstances.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He raises a brow at how you just… accepted it.
“Yeah… I believe it.” You respond flatly, then point at him, casually motioning your finger up and down. “Your attitude kinda sucked when we first met.”
He grimaces, taken aback by the statement. “No, it doesn’t–”
“You also liked to argue, too.”
“Okay— whatever,” he waves a dismissive hand, not at all interested in hearing what else you had to say. At this point, it just sounded like you wanted to shit on him, something he actually doesn’t have any fucking time for right now. “You’re a sorcerer… right?”
“No.”
“Christ.” Satoru sighs, turning on his heel. “You’re fuckin’ useless—“
You scoff, more humored than offended. “Where are you going?”
“To figure this shit out!” he snaps, throwing his arms out as he turns around to face you.
“Okay,” you shrug, still way too calm for Satoru’s liking, as it pisses him off even more. “If you don’t get it all figured out tonight, you can always come back. We have a guest room.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He huffs out a bitter laugh, as if that was the dumbest suggestion he’s ever heard. “I appreciate the offer.”
–
“Yaga” Satoru storms into the principal’s office, ignoring all his cursed stuffed animals, but noticing what he’s done with his hair. “What the fuck happened to you?”
The principal's brows pinch together, wishing he had locked the door to his office. Satoru fucked with him enough today by showing up to a meeting 20 minutes late with some sugary frap in his hand, and now he’s storming into his office, insulting him out of nowhere.
“Actually, nevemind.” Satoru waves a hand to stop him from even answering his question, reminding himself not to get sidetracked right now. “Look, I need your help. I got sent into the future by some curse, and I need to get back.”
Yaga inhales sharply. “What are you even talking about?”
“Exactly what I just said! I’m from 2009! Not whatever age I am now—”
“31.”
Satoru throws up a little in his mouth. “Send me back.”
Yaga lets out a long, disappointed sigh. It’s always something with Satoru. Always. Having to deal with the younger version of him was a painful reminder that he’s been dealing with his bullshit for well over a decade now. Nothing surprises him anymore.
“Let me see if some other windows would be willing to help look through the library. I’m sure you’ll be able to find information on what kind of curse you got hit with.”
“Thank you,” Satoru groans, still not very pleased by everyone’s reactions thus far, but grateful that he can at least get somewhere with Yaga… unlike a certain somebody.
Hours later, he finds himself at the school’s dusty, unkept library. It looks worse than it originally looked before he walked in. Books sprawled everywhere. Research papers were scattered all over the tables and floor. Assistants running around in every direction, more than half of them terrified at the total 180 in Satoru’s attitude.
“W-we can’t find anything,” Ijichi says, too old to be acting this scared in Satoru’s opinion.
He hums, elbows still resting on his knees, not bothering to sit up. “Hey, Ijichi?”
Ijichi gulped loudly, managing to annoy the world’s strongest sorcerer even more. “...Yes?”
“How are you even more incompetent now than you were before?”
“I tried my best! I swear!”
“Well, it’s not good enough— I’m still here!” he snaps at the nervous wreck of a man. Thank fucking god Ijichi listened to him and just became a window. He sucks at it too, but at least it’s easier for this dumbass to avoid death. “God— what the fuck am I supposed to do now?!”
“This is just one of the libraries, there’s more! And some in Kyoto too, that we’ll have the Kyoto branch check out.”
“Do whatever you need to do. I’m just letting you know right now that if I'm not back by tomorrow, you better watch the fuck out.”
The threat is followed by complete dead silence, aside from a certain someone's breath catching in horror.
“Me?!” Ijichi squeaks out.
The sorcerer doesn’t bother answering that and instead walks away, grumbling something insulting under his breath, just in complete and utter disbelief over how Ijichi truly hasn’t changed.
—
You figured your husband would eventually come back, so you set some food aside for him, and now you’re sitting at the dinner table, trying not to laugh at the pout on his face as he picks at his dinner with the chopsticks in his hand.
“Is the food good?”
“Sure.”
“I can warm that up for you, if you want?” you ask, barely trying to hide your amusement.
“No thanks,” he curtly responds before shoving another piece of karaage into his mouth. He’s known to have a sweet tooth, but chicken karaage’s probably his favorite food, savory wise. You almost want to tell him that he’s allowed to enjoy food even if his day hasn’t gone the way he had planned. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped staring.”
Your lips twitch, threatening to break out into a fit of laughter. “Right, sorry.”
“Mommy…? Is Daddy home yet?”
Oh great. As if the day couldn’t get any worse— now there’s a child.
“Yeah,” you respond in a tentative tone, shooting Satoru a look that screams ‘behave or else’, and even though you are currently a stranger to him, it intimidates him enough to behave for the time being.
A little girl, no older than 4 years old, walks into the kitchen and Satoru’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head upon seeing his daughter. It’s pretty obvious she’s his with her baby blue eyes and stark white hair. Her facial features are entirely yours, though. It’s strange to see.
“Hey… kiddo—” he awkwardly says, not really sure how to address the little girl. You clear your throat, mouthing ‘princess’ when he looks at you, because your daughter also happens to have her dad’s attitude. “I mean princess.”
It’s hilarious how unnatural it sounds right now when he was the one who started calling her that the moment you two took her home from the hospital.
“You pomis to wead bedtime stowie,” she starts to pout— same exact way he does.
“Did I?” He gives the girl a sympathetic look, albeit fake.
“Yeah,” she frowns as she walks up to you, giving him the world’s nastiest side eye. “Liar.”
Why is that the one word she’s able to enunciate correctly? She didn’t even stutter.
“Yeah— I was a little busy with work today,” he murmurs, as if she knew what that even meant. With the glare she was giving him, he doubted she’d even care if he broke down what work and the importance of it was. “Maybe mommy can read to you tonight?”
Sai wasn’t having that.
Satoru spent the end of his night reading her favorite book to her. Multiple times. He almost asked if it was some form of punishment for not upholding a promise he didn’t technically make himself, but decided against it in fear that she’d make him read it one more time. Sai fell asleep… eventually. Despite there being no way to prove it, he knows that the little girl forced herself to stay up out of pure spite.
But still, he finds himself smiling as he thinks about his nightmare of a future, not wiping it off quickly enough when you lightly knock on the guest bedroom door.
“Here’s some jammys for the night.” You smile back as you walk up and hand him a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt, both neatly folded up. “Figured you wouldn’t want to sleep in your work clothes.”
“Oh uh— thanks.” He clears his throat and forces out a laugh, pushing through the embarrassment of getting caught smiling to himself.
You’re giving him that look again. The one that’s mixed with amusement and a bit of fondness, where you look like you’re about to start making fun of him, but never do. Satoru would rather die than admit it makes him nervous.
“What?”
There’s a small pause as your smile grows. “Do you like your kid?”
“She’s weird.”
“Yeah, no— you wouldn’t believe who she got that from.”
“Fuck off.” A laugh easily slips through his lips this time, unable to stay serious at the thought of her inheriting even just a quarter of the traits he had as a child. Then it grows quiet again as he realizes she probably has the freedom to be a kid.
He wants to ask, but you beat him to it with a statement that answered the question he had in mind.
“Your duties as her father don’t end just because you managed to time travel by the way,” you say playfully, though he knows you’re being dead serious.
He can only guess what other horrors that little girl will subject him to for the rest of his time here. To put it simply, she’s not afraid of Dad.
For once, somebody doesn’t look at him as a god to fear.
—
It’s been over a month.
Ijichi and the rest of the windows are just as useless as they were when they first started trying to find answers. All that’s changed is that Nanami knows, and doesn’t seem to be too thrilled about the fact that he is now involved.
But still, the search for the fix to his predicament continues, turning every library and warehouse upside down. That’s all they could really do— aside from asking the elders for assistance of some sort.
Over his dead body.
Knowing they’d most likely do more harm than good, everyone’s agreed to keep this all a little secret from them.
So all that’s left to do, or rather forced to do, is to be patient. It’s hard. Satoru doesn’t do patient— he’s the type to snap his fingers and have a solution magically appear right before his eyes. You can only imagine how difficult it’s been for him to accept that he can’t immediately get what he wants right now.
Not to mention the fact that he had to continue working throughout all of this, but that wasn’t very surprising.
Now, what was surprising was learning that he has his weekends completely to himself. If anything, he assumed he’d just work more as time went on, but no. Turns out he threatened to kill the higher-ups if they didn’t let him have that when you two got married.
Satoru looks over your body once.
Twice.
He totally understands his future self.
He looks again for a third time, and you just so conveniently turn around, showing off your cute, frilly little apron covered in flour streaks.
It’s Sunday— you’ve been baking sweet treats all morning, and he wishes he had been a little nicer to you. Especially a couple of days ago when he snapped at you.
You had found him sitting alone on the balcony, head in his hands from yet another day of failure.
“Hey… any good news?”
“No,” he said impatiently. “If there was, I wouldn’t fucking be here right now.”
“Fair enough.” Your voice took a dip as you looked at the ground, allowing yourself to feel a little hurt for a moment before trying to lift the mood again. “Well… me and Sai stopped by your favorite bakery and got you the cookies you like if you wanted some—“
“No— no,” Satoru cut you off. “I don’t want your fucking cookies. I don’t want to do a family movie night where all we watch is Ms. Rachel. I don’t want to read some book about a mouse trying to become a fucking painter over and over again. I don’t want ANY of it. I want to fucking go home— what part about that do you not get?”
You tried to stand as straight as possible despite your shoulders growing heavier, pushing against the small frown threatening to carve itself across your face. You forgot how mean he used to be, at least during that first year of dating him. It only stings more because the man you married would never raise his voice like that, and you remind yourself that this isn’t him.
After a long pause, he looked up at you and immediately felt guilt wash over him.
“I didn’t mean that,” he tried to meet your eyes as he began to backtrack. “I’m sorry, I just— fuck. I didn’t mean any of that—”
“It’s fine.” You forced yourself to look at him again and smile. “I’ll uh… give you some space.”
The one thing about Satoru is that he doesn’t apologize. Like ever. So, one could only imagine how painfully awkward it was later that night when he knocked on your bedroom door to say he was sorry. It didn’t help that you were in a paper-thin silk slip, skin glistening from the lotion you rubbed all over it— he spent half his time trying not to stare at your tits. Had you been anyone else, it wouldn’t have felt as genuine.
But thank fuck he apologized, you probably would’ve spent all day ignoring him.
You raise a brow, and his cheeks start to pink. “What are you staring at?”
“Nothing, you just–” he awkwardly gestures at your entire body, “there’s flour all over you.”
It almost sounds like he’s offended by it. He kind of is. You keep your foot on his fucking neck— he doesn’t even know why he came out here.
“Oh, right— 'cause messes have always bothered you,” you lean over the island ever so slightly. The pink on his cheeks darkens as you do, unable to control his eyes from drifting down to your cleavage. And while he’s not exactly ashamed of looking— you are his wife after all— he can’t help but be a little flustered.
He’s always had a thing for milfs.
Especially when said milf is talking about messes— he knows a couple of places he could make a mess on right now.
“Nah,” he rests his elbows on the marble counter as a playful grin stretches across his face. “This is nothing compared to how I like it.”
You tilt your head, a small laugh escaping you as you rest your chin over your palm, curious to see where this conversation will get you.
“How do you like it?” you ask, as if you didn’t already know how filthy and depraved he could get when he’s alone in a room with you.
And you fucking miss that.
He opens his mouth to respond.
Then you hear your daughter whimpering about waking up alone. It’s nothing new, and you revert back to mom mode as you watch her turn the corner and waddle towards you.
Satoru, on the other hand, is not used to this. The slightly bruised laugh he lets out just barely masks his desire to fucking scream. What a fucking cockblock— no wonder you only have one kid.
His kid completely ignores his existence as she wraps herself around your leg, continuing to whimper despite no actual tears streaming down her cheeks. “I had a nightmawh.”
Meanwhile, there’s Satoru, who has yet to wake up from his very own nightmare. He internally sighs, then attempts to grab her attention because it doesn’t feel very good watching her give it all to you. “You wanna share a muffin with daddy?”
It’s starting to sound more natural.
“Y-yeah,” she sniffles.
Minutes later, she’s sitting on his lap, absolutely demolishing the blueberry muffin they ended up splitting— a complete 180. He couldn’t be mad, even if he tried.
His little girl was a dream.
—
Month two. Ijichi is still as useless as ever. He stopped complaining to you about him, though. You noticed he doesn’t talk about going back to his original timeline all that much anymore.
It’s not like Satoru’s given up hope, he’s just more present, as if he finally realized that wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to send him back any faster. He’s unknowingly more like his future self— laid back, not a care in the world.
He’s even sleeping in for once. It’s not that hard though when Sai’s gone for the day. She seemed to care more about getting the hell out of the house with her grandparents than greeting her father a good morning. You didn’t push her to, either— figuring Satoru needed the sleep. He always does.
It’s too bad that his phone started blowing up at around 10:00 am. Unfortunately for you, he left his phone in the living room, leaving you to get up and grab it since the master bedroom was the closest room to it. With how thick the walls are, you doubt he’d even hear it.
With a long sigh, you rise from bed, rubbing the sleep off your eyes as you snatch the stupid phone off the coffee table.
The snores coming from Satoru reach your ears before you even open the door. You have to hold back a laugh as you walk in and take a look at him. Face down, his long limbs sprawled over the bed, messy white hair sticking out in all directions.
You reach out and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, surprised infinity is off.
“Toru?” He stirs a bit, and you cautiously attempt to wake him up again. “Toru— someone’s been trying to call you for the past 10 minutes now.”
He lifts his head, eyes still sealed shut as he murmurs, “Who?”
“Uhh,” you look at the screen, unsure of who it might be. “Your contact name for them is nerd.”
You know it’s not Ijichi because his contact name is “courage 🐶” in his phone. Someone else must've annoyed Satoru for him to change yet another contact.
Satoru shoves his head back into the pillow and groans before taking the phone off your hands.
It’s Nanami. He, of all people, should know now is not the time to be blowing up his phone right now because he is fucking sleeping. It’s a Saturday for fucks sake.
Satoru sighs and accepts the call, grumbling into the phone. “What?”
Nanami cuts straight to the chase, as he would rather be doing anything else right now.
“How long are you planning on hiding your secret from the higher-ups?” he asks in a clipped tone.
Satoru rubs his eyes, too tired to return the same sense of urgency his friend seems to have at the moment. “Forever.”
“Don’t give me that.” A vein pops up on the side of the usually stoic man’s forehead. “They asked me about you this morning. They know something’s up. I can’t keep covering for you if it means my own safety’s on the line.”
“You really haven’t changed, have you?” It’s more of a statement than a question.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean—“
“You’ll be fine,” Satoru cuts him off. “They’re always up my ass anyway. I doubt they’re even suspicious. They just don’t know how to mind their own fuckin’ business. Seriously. You’re worrying over nothing right now.”
“I swear to god Gojo, if you—“
“Kay’ good night.”
Click.
Nanami’s probably fuming right now, but he’ll get over it. Satoru wanted to enjoy this. Lying in a comfy bed, surrounded by nothing but peace and quiet. He closes his eyes and stretches a bit, then rests his hands behind his head.
He would’ve forgotten that you were still sitting at the edge of the bed had you not lightly cleared your throat. One eye opens to look at you, then closes. The last thing he wants to do is share the reason why Nanami had been blowing up his phone all morning.
“Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not here.” You cross your arms. “What was that all about?”
“Nothin’,” he easily says. “Just Nanami being Nanami— the guy’s a fuckin’ stickler for no reason.”
“That’s a little rude, no?” you chastise him.
“So is waking me up.”
“Sai wakes you up all the time, though.”
“Sai’s a ball of sunshine,” he says, quickly coming to her defense. “Not a grown man with depression— where is she by the way?”
“She’s spending the afternoon with my parents.”
Both eyes open this time, and stay open. “Why didn’t you go with them?”
“No way,” you wave a hand. “I need a break, too.”
“Yeah, no— I’m sure,” he agrees, feeling flustered all the sudden.
And Satoru being Satoru, he doesn’t do a very good job of hiding it, once again forgetting that you can read him better than anyone else can.
You smile, scooching closer, “You good there?”
“Yeah, m’fine,” he murmurs, trying not to shift around too much.
“I can take care of that, you know.”
“What?”
“That.” You look down at the boner he’s been trying to hide since finding out it’s just you two here.
“That’s not—“ His brain straight up short-circuits. “You don’t think that’s weird?”
“No.” You continue to inch forward, getting closer to him. “Do you think it’s weird?”
“No— never,” he shakes his head, answering a little too fast. “Fuck— won’t future me get mad?”
“Not at all. The most he’d probably do is make me show him what we did.”
“Make you show him?” he repeats after you in disbelief.
“Is that a problem?”
“No, that’s— that’s fuckin’ hot.”
Minutes later, you’re leaning forward with your hand wrapped around his base, and his breath catches as you start to slowly pump his cock.
“Feel good?”
His lids lower as he hums, “yeah— keep going.”
You lean forward, letting a string of spit fall from your lips to the tip of his cock, letting it mix with the precum that was already beading down from it. The wet sounds of you stroking him begin to grow, making the heat in between your legs start to pool.
“Can I sit on it?” You look up at him, batting your lashes as you innocently ask.
“Please,” he blurts out, just about ready to start begging you to.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just as eager as him after all the weeks spent pretending like you don’t notice the way he stares at you. Lustfully. The slip you’re wearing happens to be extra short today, so you forego stripping down and practically pounce on him. Your soaked panties grazing over his rock-hard length as you straddle him, letting yourself get comfortable while Satoru grows impatient.
His hands find themselves planted on your hips and pull you down. A low groan escapes him as he grinds you against him. “God— fuck me. Please.”
“Well, since you’re being so sweet—”
You reach down, hooking a finger into the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side. He’s already lining himself up with your entrance, teasing your hole as he runs his tip through your folds, collecting all the slick. His lips part as he watches in awe at how damn wet you are.
His head tips back as you lower yourself, groaning and rambling to himself as if you weren’t there to hear it all.
"Fuck. You’re so hot.” His words come out strained as he watches you start to take him inch by inch, slowly working yourself open. “So fuckin’ tight, too.”
“Mmm— forgot how big you are.” Your voice is all soft and breathy from the fullness, nails slowly digging into his abs as you bottom out.
It takes a minute to adjust— it has been 3 months after all. But then you finally roll your hips, and Satoru almost starts singing praises at how good you are at that— lifting your hips all the way up and throwing them back, taking all of him.
"Fuck yeah– just like that," he breathes, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Feels so fucking good."
You murmur back a measly, “kay,” already dizzy from the stretch. You’re able to keep up the pace on your own for a bit, until you feel his grip on you tighten and the sounds of skin slapping against his start to grow as he starts to help you out.
You wouldn’t exactly call it help though, not when he ended up doing all the work— holding you steady while he practically bounces you on his cock, pulling more and more moans out of you as the head of his cock repeatedly kissed your sweet spot with almost no effort.
"You take it so good," he groans, pupils blown wide as he starts to feel himself lose control, snapping his hips up a little harder than the last. He wants more, he always wants more— so he pulls you forward and pulls your straps down far enough for your tits to spill out. "Perfect fuckin’ tits. Been thinking about these for weeks."
You let out a surprised gasp as he pops a nipple in his mouth with no warning. You fully believe him with the way he starts sucking and swirling and flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud, all while snapping his hips up harder.
He pulls back with a pop, looking up at you for approval. “Was that good?”
“Mhm.” There’s a fucked out expression on your face as you weakly nod. “Harder.”
“You want me to fuck you harder?”
“Yeah.”
Something in him snaps. Eager to please you, he flips you over and folds you underneath him— grabbing the back of your knees and pinning them to your chest so he can drive his cock into you deeper.
“Better?”
He drives his hips forward again, knocking the air out of your lungs. “God— yes.”
“I can’t— fuck— can’t believe you’re all mine, can’t believe I get to have you,” he starts to ramble as the sounds of him absolutely pounding into you fill the room. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect— all of you.”
He crashes his lips into yours— the kiss is messy, powered by hunger. Satoru’s always been overwhelming, but it’s been years since it’s been this emotionally intense. He fucks you like he needs you, like he’s been waiting for you all his life.
Your walls begin to squeeze and flutter around his cock, pulling another groan out of him. “You close?”
“Yeah,” you whine, feeling the pressure begin to coil. “Keep going.”
He’s close too, you can tell by how sloppy his thrusts have grown, no longer trying to control himself as he starts chasing after both of your releases. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck and fucks you faster, harder— balls slapping against your ass with each lewd wet squelch.
Your orgasm hits you hard after one particularly rough thrust. Scratching at his back as a cry tears through you, and it only goes straight to his dick, not even realizing just how overstimulated you are from the way he drills into you.
“Fuck.” It’s just one word that comes out of his mouth after realizing how hard he’s about to fucking cum. He bites into your shoulder as his balls start to tighten, squeezing his eyes shut as he braces himself.
When it happens, it’s a lot. He shoves himself deep inside of you, unaware of all the weight he puts on you as hot spurts of cum begin to flood your walls. Slowly grinding against you, letting your tight pussy milk the rest of him.
You’re wrecked by the end of it. You both are— lids tired and heavy, bodies sore and out of breath.
And in the end, you just let yourself fall asleep, unaware of the soft kiss pressed against your temple as he watched you.
—
It’s month three, and Satoru doesn’t want to go back.
What was the point? It’s not like he had anyone or anything to go back to. Jujutsu Society never crumbled from him getting shot into the future. Would it really be that bad if he just never went back and continued on with his life from here?
He hasn’t uttered a word about it out loud, but the way he completely stopped asking Yaga and Ijichi for updates was telling of where he was at mentally.
Acceptance.
He likes his life here.
You’ve come to your own conclusion after these last three months.
No wonder why he was so hot and cold when you were trying to get to know him. Satoru got a little taste of genuine comfort, only for it to be ripped away from him sometime before you two actually met. It explains all the times you wondered why he even tried with you, despite being too emotionally inept to even be in a relationship. He probably went through the beginning of your relationship thinking you could disappear at any second.
With that being said, he can’t stay here. As much as you’d love to continue being the source of comfort for this version of Satoru, he needs to experience the last year he spent alone before meeting you. He needs to feel cautious around you. He needs to try and fail at opening up a handful of times before getting comfortable with the idea of truly being vulnerable with a person. Getting over that element of fear he had towards getting close to others is what made him a husband and father— he couldn’t just skip that part of his life.
You have no idea how you’re going to tell him that, though. You’re not one to kick a sick puppy, especially one as cute as him. He’s so happy here with you and Sai that the thought of doing so makes your chest ache.
He’s having a tea party with Sai right now, limbs way too long to sit in the little stool she pulled up for him to sit in. He drinks imaginary tea from the plastic pink cup she hands him, and your chest aches some more. You force yourself to look away before the tears start.
You’d do the next 11 years all over again if you could.
“Hey, Honey?” Satoru calls out to you.
There’s a pause before you whip your head around— it’s been months since he’s called you that. There’s nothing but warmth and fondness in his eyes as his gaze meets yours. “Why is Nanami’s number saved under ‘nerd’ in my phone?”
He’s back.
“I don’t know,” you laugh, despite the tear falling down your cheek. “You tell me.”
—
Satoru didn’t want to believe it when everything around him went dark once again. It’s not until his feet touch the ground with a soft thud and he finds himself back in his messy, cold dorm when reality slapped him across the face.
Something between a sob and a gut-wrenching scream rips from his throat. Grabbing the round shades he had hoped he’d never have to fucking wear again, he rips them off his face and sends it crashing into the wall, breaking into a hundred little pieces. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t give himself a chance to even breathe or think before raising his hand and releasing a purple orb with just a flick of his fingers.
Impulsive. Reckless. Deadly.
Satoru was fucking devastated.
Nobody knew what triggered him that night. All they knew was that the east wing of the school looked like it had been hit by an asteroid by the time he calmed down. He didn’t speak to anyone for a good two weeks following the incident. Everyone wants to think he was lucky the explosion didn’t have any casualties, but then they remembered who he was: Satoru fucking Gojo.
God’s don’t get punished, nor do natural disasters— it’s hard to tell which one he was at this point.
One Year Later
“If it’s that small of a curse, why are you sending me there?” Satoru continues to argue with one of the new managers over the phone.
It wasn’t that small of a curse. It was a grade one. But still, given the sorcerer’s title as a special grade, he was overqualified for the job.
“I’m sorry, we just don’t have anyone available to take on the case at the moment.” The young woman continues to apologize over the phone. “I think we might have a grade 3 available for the job. I- I can check—”
“Save it.” Satoru cuts her off. He wasn’t that heartless to push the case off to some 15 year old. That’s exactly how Haibara died. “Send me the address.”
The mission was nothing short of an inconvenience for him. He liked a challenge when exorcising curses, and the damn thing didn’t even put up a fucking fight. He traveled 2 hours to get here just for that? Unbelievable.
He wasn’t ready to leave and sit on a train for another 2 hours just yet, so he decided to walk around the town for a bit.
It was a cute place, a little quiet. Kinda boring. That’s never a bad thing, though. Lots of mom and pop shops, a few coffee shops scattered around, one of which he decided to try. A little sugar’s always good, at least to him.
The smell of vanilla and roasted coffee beans hit him as he walked into the place. There was a decent amount of customers inside. Not too much to feel crowded, but enough to stay busy. He keeps his eyes on the menu the entire time. The line moves fast, and he figures out what he wants just in time.
“And what can I get started for you today?”
His eyes are still on the screen, reading the item off the menu.
“Can I get a white chocolate mocha frappuccino, with an extra pump of…” his words die out, and his eyes widen as he finally looks at the girl taking his order. “Hey.”
“Hi.” You laugh at the way this stranger loses his train of thought. “Extra pump of white chocolate syrup?”
“Yeah.” He exhales, unable to rip his eye off you as you write the words down on the plastic cup with a sharpie.
“Name for the order?”
“Go– Satoru,” he corrects himself. “It’s Satoru.”
He’s a little awkward, but you still find him quite charming and smile. “Alright, Satoru. Your order should be ready in about 10 minutes.”
“Awesome. Thanks,” he nods rather pathetically, then goes to sit in an empty corner of the shop with only one thought in mind:
He has 10 minutes to come up with what to say to get your number.
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
▶︎︎ Wicked Games (starring . nerd!choso & frat!choso)
synopsis . In which you have the Kamo twins wrapped around your pretty finger. You tell them that you’re not theirs—not officially—and for a time, it works out. Choso (nerdcho) was your sweetheart of a project partner who was steadily falling for you and Kaiso (fratcho) was the younger twin who finds your side at every party you attend. What could possibly go wrong with two brothers who had no idea they were sharing the same girl?
content . afab!reader, slight pining, college au, drama, alcohol, public sex, obsession, reader is kinda two-timing them, filth, messy relationships, gojo twin mentions (more specifically fratjo), brat taming (kinda), possessiveness, slight bimbo!reader, clueless wingman yuji, some gen z humor, mentions of drugs (weed), hair pulling, brief toji cameo, biting, spitting, sharing a drink through kissing, oral sex & fixations with it, they both have piercings, mirror sex, literally getting passed back and forth, reader is greeeeedy, the twins get pussydrunk, rough sex, degrading—they're kinda mean when they're together, dirty talk, eventual threesome, throat fucking, praise, surprise ending/cameo (heh), etc.
word count . 9.2k || author's note: banner art by @/enruji07 on twt!! ty to everyone who voted on tht poll of mine, you KNOW i had to write this as a certified choso girly. not proofread, truly sorry for errors in advance..!
Well, for starters, one was never going to be enough for you.
You figured that much out on the first day you laid your sweet eyes on Choso Kamo, the grungy yet shy-looking guy who sat beside you in your biochem class. While he was focused on every annoyingly long lecture presented by the professor ahead, you spent most classes utterly distracted by him.
Luckily for you, your biochem professor seemed to have noticed this and kindly paired the two of you up for the big project due at the end of the semester. You didn't even have to do anything to find an excuse to talk to him!
A similar thing took place with his twin brother Kaiso Kamo, who you danced your way into at some frat party. While you technically set your sights on him earlier that night—initially mistaking him for Choso—it was nice how you didn't have to go out of your way to meet him either.
Were you really in the wrong for wanting both?
——
Short answer: no, not at all!
Long answer: maybe a little...
In the beginning, you had no intentions of breaking their hearts or making them feel like fools but… fairly enough, there was something rather thrilling about going from one twin to the other. Their mutual cluelessness was an added bonus to your whole scheme.
Something that gave your heart an addictive rush whenever you almost got caught.
You wouldn’t have done it if you were in a confirmed relationship with one of them, of course. But the Kamo twins lack of formally asking you out was probably a big reason why you never felt bad switching between them.
Currently, you sit tucked away in the deepest corner of your campus’s library. The smell of old paper and dust shrouds the air surrounding you and Choso, who you're side by side with as he helps you study for an upcoming exam.
When you texted him, you told him you wanted to work on the project you both had due. But when he showed up with his hair pulled up into those perfectly messy pigtails, his glasses framing the dark browns of his eyes, and a clean long-sleeve white shirt—small cup of coffee in hand, you'd forgotten all about that silly project.
The desire to listen to him explain something to you blossomed within you upon watching him near your corner of study. Even as he softly hummed, "Sup," as if your relationship as project partners hadn't changed weeks prior to this, you couldn't help but want something else out of this session.
It started out with you suggesting that you both study together instead of troubling yourselves with an assignment that wasn't due for another two months. And the two of you were actually fairing through one another's notes pretty well!
Y'know, until you chuckled at a spelling error of his and he awkwardly shifted in his seat, glancing off as he sighed, "You're distracting me."
Small phrases like that had steadily become some sort of code between you and the studious man.
All you did was laugh and now he was avoiding your gaze to hide the blush creeping over his cheeks. Choso could be somewhat of a loser in that regard but you'd be lying if you said you didn't like that about him.
"Distracting you how?" You snort, eyes flicking up from the boring pages of problems that sat in front of you. You idly twirled your pencil around your fingers, another thing that unknowingly kept Choso from his focus.
Truth be told, you could do anything and his mind would begin to wonder.
Before now, quiet moments of study between you both never dipped past a careful attachment of lips every once 'n a while. Things with this twin usually happened all slowly, as if the man was scared to take it any further with you.
There was once a time where you were literally in his lap as you made out and yet the moment he got hard, he was quick to say that the two of you should stop there.
Not today though, as he had something a little different in his mind.
You caught it in the way his head slowly turned to face you, his eyes flashing something different under the dim lights of the library. His steady hands seemed unnerved as they tapped across the table in tandem with the steady increase of his beating heart. You saw the way he got nervous before saying anything.
"You know how," Choso started, just barely allowing himself a second too long to stare at you.
Your brows push together as you peer at him straight on, "No, if I knew how I wouldn't have asked, silly."
His eyes dropped to your mouth then, tracing the delicate outline of them and not being shy at all when it comes to showcasing where his thoughts had run off to. You could practically see the way he envisioned being more bold with you, more declaring—the way confidence was a fleeting conundrum for the poor nerd, everpresently there when he didn't need it to be and nowhere of note when he craved it most.
If kissing you and showering you in whispers of how badly he needed you were some sort of equation to solve then it would be a walk in the park for him. But, in his mind, it was everything but. There were too many factors to consider when it came onto you.
The main one being how much of a fool he'd make of himself if he pushed forward now.
Your scrunched brows and innocently curious eyes make his heart feel all knotted in his chest, anxiety crawling through his nerves in a way that made him wish he never said anything in the first place. The two of you had only kissed a couple times and each one was initiated by you.
But now—hell, from the moment you texted him and suggested studying—he could only think of one thing. He hasn't been able to get you out of his head the past few weeks and now that he's sitting next to you staring at those gorgeous eyes of yours, he can feel the entirety of his resolve crumbling.
The lack of a response from him along with the rather awkward way you both were staring at each other is what led you to clearing your throat. That subtle attempt of breaking the silence doesn't work out too well since you turn back to your sheet of notes and Choso remains exactly as he'd been for the past few minutes—completely enthralled in everything you visually had to offer.
Then there's a loud creek from the old wooden chair he's sitting on before it scrapes against the floor. When you glance at him, you notice that he'd managed to scoot closer to you.
Scoffing, "Choso."
He looks at you immediately, the tips of his ears a cute shade of red. "Y-Yes?" The man squeaks, clearing his throat after in hopes of regaining the natural base in his voice back.
"Are you okay? You're all stiff," You point out softly, moving to poke his arm with the end of your pencil.
His frame doesn't budge a bit as you do so and his eyes fall down to the plush eraser that's lightly digging into his bicep. Cracking a half smile, "I'm fine, sorry. Just distracted, like I told you."
You lean in a little and his heart begins to rush. Then, your head tilts and you smile back at him, "You never told me what's distracting you."
"I did tell you," He insists, "You're distracting me."
"But you never said how."
"Because you know how."
You roll your eyes at how quick his responses come sometimes, "No I don't."
To which Choso gazes at you for a moment stretched out far more than necessary. Those deep chocolatey pools of brown in his eyes remained locked on you as if something inside him had finally shifted and convinced him to stop running.
A stretch of quiet passes again and it was in times like this when you wished you could read his mind or wished he was more talkative because maybe that would distract you from how unblinking and unmoving his studying gaze seemed to be.
There were no more shy flickers of lashes as he usually displayed, his eyes stopped dipping down to your lips, and he remained anchored to your growingly tense frame. The seconds seemed to drag out far too slowly for comfort, leaving you to feel the way tension wrapped itself around your lungs and began to suffocate you with rising anxiet—
"...Did you really invite me out here just to study?" Choso's voice finally mellows out, all soft 'n soothing as if his piercing gaze wasn't seconds away from driving you into a state of ridiculous shyness.
You finally meet his stare with one of your own, breathing out a light huff of unbelievability, "Yeah...?"
His eyes finally pull away from yours as he looks down. His expression—albeit lacking much to begin with—dropping, "Oh."
You catch the disenchantment in his tone almost immediately, "You sound disappointed."
"N-No," He perks up for a second with quick defense, looking at you more sincerely as his words sentences translate out of his mouth in short intervals. "I just..." He chews at his lower lip in thought and sighs, letting his heavy eyes fall shut so that he could gather his thoughts properly, "Well, a few weeks ago we..."
The end of that statement never comes, unfortunately.
For what Choso lacked in confidence, you made up for with your own. The bottom of your chair scrapes against the floor as you turn to face him a little more, leaning forward all teasingly and whispering out to him with a causality he couldn't even begin to fathom for himself.
"Do you wanna make out with me again, Cho?" You whisper perfectly.
The dark black at the center of his eyes seem to dilate in size a little as a heavy breath heaves out of his lips, saliva already gathering inside his mouth as if ready to drool before he even answers you properly. Choking out an all too thick, "God, yes."
His straightforward answer catches you by surprise for a split second as you look around to make sure there's nobody near. Noticing no one else in the vicinity, you grin and turn your head to the man again.
Only to be caught off guard by the way his stable hand comes up to your jaw to tug you in for a desperately needed kiss.
Choso had meant to say that he wanted so much more than to merely make out with you but, he'd hoped his actions would speak volumes louder than he ever could.
The kiss is a force of smushed lips and then clasping teeth as he eagerly parts your mouth open for his tongue to glide into. You don't know how many people he's kissed before you—if any at all—but you do know that the silvery ball laying at the center of his tongue is a new sensation you weren't exactly prepared for.
"Mmnh!" You'd hummed against him as you tried to pull away from him in surprise.
Unfortunately for you, you'd caught Choso on one of his most neediest days. The grip he had on your jaw tightened and he forced you to stay in place, tongue drawing sinful shapes against yours before he pulled back for a soft moment just to rasp, "Take it." into your mouth.
Heat thrummed uncontrollably in between your legs at the sound of that. It was uttered so dirtily that you nearly felt like the guy was fucking you. And in way, he almost was.
Choso had a tongue like no other—the kind that explored and mapped the insides of your mouth out as if he planned to make home there. As if he wanted to fuck something filthy down your throat with the slick from his oral cavity.
Wetly devouring the very taste from your mouth, sucking at your squirming tongue, and grunting like something viscously feral was about to take over his body, Choso had quite lost his senses from the moment your lips made contact with his.
Study session? Ah, he'd forgotten alll about that.
Everything that led up to this was discarded completely. Especially as his free hand came down to your thigh, politely prying your legs apart and provoking another shocked moan from your throat.
The last time the two of you had a kiss this intimate, he possessed levels of restraint that seems to be a lost art to him now. It wasn't until your hand came over his and you urged his touch deeper between your thighs that something light 'n airy broke out from his lungs.
All his fingertips sunk into your skin—the annoying layer of fabric between a raw touch be damned—and a pathetic whimper was gifted directly into your mouth.
You were given a moment a of reprieve as Choso tugs his lips off of yours and then let his head tip down. He was never the bold type. Not with words, anyway.
What he couldn't voice out with you, he was an expert in showing you. That's why seconds before he'd pulled away from you back when you made out in the comfort of his bedroom all those weeks ago, he couldn't stop the insistent buck of his hips.
Now seemed to be no different.
Sure, there was some quietly whispering voice in his head telling him that the last place this should be happening in is the campus library—a place of which every student has access to. But, the other starving voices in his head couldn't care less.
And the way you were feeding into his desires wasn't exactly helping.
The shudder you let out when his tongue danced across your neck, how cutely you tried to squeeze your legs shut when his hot pants slapped up against your ear and his thick fingers grazed your inner thigh—fuck, if you weren't every bit of addictive as he'd so delectably feared.
"We're supposed to be studying but," He groaned before the rest of his words even left him, "All I wanna do is explore you. You're so fuckin' pretty, it hurts."
His words stain your skin through his next wave of wet kisses as you allow his hand to continue its travels up and soon work your bottoms loose enough to slip into. Leaving you to gasp, "Choso," as he boldly feels at the wettened fabric of your panties.
"I wanna..." His tongue darts out a moment to moisten his lips before he slumps his head into the crook of your neck a bit, inhaling your scent and letting his hand explore you further as he whispers, "Hah, can I eat you out?"
You blink. "What? Here?"
"You're wet enough for it," Choso smirks. Then his thumb teases the edges of your panties, soon letting his other digits run down to rub over the soaked slit of your cunt, "God, you feel so fucking soft. I wanna taste you. Please?"
Your legs are all sprawled out and your chest is rising and falling with rapid breaths, the fear of getting caught growing within you, "Choso-"
"No one will catch us, I promise." He carefully cuts off in an attempt to soothe your worries.
You don't know what possessed you or him that day but, he ended up under the table and in between your legs a few minutes after that promise of his.
Your eyes were on the verge of crossing from how good his tongue felt against you. Scandalously lapping your folds apart and letting you leave glossy trails of slick against his mouth, Choso was nothing short of starving under you. His eyes softly pierced up from behind those glasses of his, taking in your every expression and studying your face to know where to thrust his tongue against.
Your panties had practically been ripped off of you, parts of the tethered fabric somewhere around your calves along with your pants that he tugged down. And yet it wasn't enough, he still felt like he wasn't tasting you properly.
...Which is how you both ended up in the nearby science fiction section of the library. One of your legs was now perched up against a row of books while you panted heavily against some others, Choso busy eating you out from behind like a man absolutely ravished.
His grunts and deep groans were surely loud enough to alert anyone nearby of what was happening but he couldn't be bothered with that because the squelchy moans your pussy let out were far more important. He held your leg up high as he swallowed in your taste, most of your juices having spilt down to his jaw and even all down his neck.
Choso's eyes were drunken with a sense of starvation and his mouth just kept moving and moving. You'd feel his lips french kiss your lower ones for a moment and then his tongue would lather on out to slap against your twitching clit, earning another slosh of arousal from your clenching hole.
School and studying came easy to him but this seemed to be far easier.
Choso ate you out like it's the only thing he knew how to do, muttering deep praises about how good you tasted and how pretty your pussy was against his tongue. The piercing decorating the center of his oral muscle often bullied itself around your clit as his tongue traveled up to it.
Then he'd haul himself back and return his attention to your needy lil' hole, using a single thumb to pry your glossing lips apart and watch the way your cunt salivates against his skin. His shyness was all one big front he put on because you'd never met a man like him who was this brash with his mouth.
A crisp stream of air breezed out against your spread pussy as Choso meanly blew against it just to watch how your insides flinch and then clench around nothing all pathetically.
Then he popped his thumb inside and his eyebrows twisted up, a gasp jumping out of his lungs in reaction to how sexily you sucked him in. His cock was so hard from this that he felt like he could barely think-, could barely breathe.
"You have suuuch a pretty pussy," He compliments lowly, earning a tight squeeze around his thumb as he draws it out of you slowly and then rounds the shape of your cunt with your own slick. "She's so sensitive to touch, it's cute."
Your back arches as he says that and you seem to spread out wider for him, to which his cock strains harder against his sweats. Fuck, he was gonna cum like some loser virgin because of this. As if he'd never seen pussy before or something—how embarassing...
Luckily for him, his tongue is distracting enough against you to distract you from how he cums in his pants a few minutes later. Something about the way you unknowingly bucked your hips against his mouth made him choke as something sticky flooded his boxers.
Choso had fantasized about eating you out time and time again but actually feeling you ride his face—even for only a moment—was probably the hottest thing that'd ever happened to him. You even reached back and tried grabbing at his hair when you got close!
What was he supposed to do, stop his cock from excitedly spilling out a creamy thanks in reaction to you? As if.
Even though he came before you, he doesn't stop the desperate running of his mouth against your weepy pussy. If anything, his orgasm seemed to make him hungrier as he guzzled your sweet taste to spill past the puffed lips of your cunt until you were left swollen against his tongue.
You both were rather loud during that entire escapade but those pleasureful volumes were never much considered since... well, you guys were never caught.
Not only that but, the whole thing was only one of manyyyy cunnilingus-sessions that occurred between the two of you.
Choso may not have been good with his words or asking you for those things directly but once it came down to the physical stuff, he was fine. Which is exactly why you kept going back to him for more 'n more until your study sessions became sessions of... well, everything except studying.
——
On the other hand, there was Kaiso Kamo, who was an entirely different breed in comparison to his seemingly shy brother.
At a party hosted by the one and only Gojo Sato, he could be found somewhere off in the corner. He wasn't the life of the party like his other frat bothers but he was the only member to have caught your eye (allegedly).
Though, the two of you had passed formal introductions a long time ago.
Nowadays when you attend these parties and as you're dancing against some older guy who arguably doesn't look like he belongs in this crowd of people—deep scar noticed at the corner of his lips and sharp green eyes exploring your body in ways he'd hoped his hands would later—Kaiso wouldn't take long to find you.
You were hosting some alcohol down your throat from one of the signature red cups these parties always seemed to have as a big hand finally came sneaking around your waist from the man you'd been dancing against. You tipped your head back and hoped to smile at him but you were quickly distracted by the way your cup left your hand.
When you redirected your attention forwards, Kaiso was standing there messily swallowing down the rest of your drink. The man who's name you forgot to catch took less than a second to detach himself from you and quickly went dancing elsewhere. It was obvious he wasn't interested in a woman who's got frat members drinking from the same cup as her...
"Oh, c'mon," You'd huffed, trying to reach forward and snatch your cup back from the thieving twin who never failed to ruin your moments with other people. "Not only are you scaring the hoes but, I was drinking that, asshole." You huff as you just barely pluck it out of his hands.
When you look into it, you notice all its contents are gone and end up sending Kaiso a mean glare.
One of which he grins at before stepping closer to you and carefully placing a hand to your neck.
"Kais-" You're cut off as he tips his head to the side and comes closer to pour the rest of your drink into your mouth from his own via kissing you. Your eyes go all wide and you feel your mind blanking out for a second as the liquid slithers down your throat and his tongue softly follows as if to write sorry-not-sorry into your mouth.
The way he kisses you is dizzying. It always is. He captures your breath entirely and only allows you oxygen if it's coming from his lungs. Everything in between his lips and yours is hot and dragging with need for more. Kaiso's free hand moves to your waist as he possessively tugs at your body and brings you up against him.
The thick of his leg comes meddling in between your own and you're quickly pulled all up against his body whist the kiss deepens. The sea of drunkly dancing college students surrounds the both of you but he was never one to care about who saw him with you.
Although he couldn't man up enough to ask you out, he could make things obvious that you were his in one way or another. Even though he'd no idea that you gave his brother the same exact treatment.
Eventually, his lips part against yours and he speaks into your mouth hotly, "Who was that, huh?"
Before you can even answer him, he's clasping your bottom lip in between his teeth and then letting his tongue swat over the plump curve of it to capture the rest of your taste. Shared alcohol escapes the edges of both of your mouths but Kaiso carries enough decency to lick at the corner of yours.
Then he pries himself back and grabs at your face, forcing your dazed attention to narrow up on him. "C'mon princess, it's a simple question, not rocket science." He husks out as if he'd given you the opportunity or space to answer him in the first place.
"I dont know," You mumble to him, lashes batting gently as you shrug, "Jus' some guy, why do you care?"
The corner of his lips twitch before he flashes that crooked smirk of his at you, "Let's not ask stupid questions, you know why I care."
You huff before moving your face out of his hand, "Do I?"
Skeptically, a brow is cocked your way as Kaiso sends you a look of pure disbelief. Flatly, "You almost let my frat run a train on you last weekend." he reminds you.
In your defense, the frat in question consisted of Sato Gojo—who's one half of the most popular twins around right now—Suguru Geto, Sukuna Ryomen, and Nanami Kento.
"...Can you really blame me?" You murmur all innocently as if that was really something of utmost causality.
Immediately rolling his eyes and seemingly ticked off by the sound of that, "Yeahh, I'm gettin' you out of here." Kaiso huffs as he moves to grab your wrist and tug you along with him.
He shoves his way through all the dancing people and begins to head into a rather familiar direction you're no stranger to.
"Kaiso, c'monnnn, don't be like that!" You whine, barely making an attempt to escape the hold he has on your arm.
He pauses in his steps to whirl around to you again, flashing that aggravated gaze of his at you, "Don't be like what?" He snaps. At the sight of your faux innocent expression, his shoulders drop a bit as he sighs, "I'm just looking out for you."
Even so, you still manage a pout that he immediately wants to kiss away. "No, you're being annoying and you're cockblocking me."
Kaiso snorts, "Cockblokcing you from a man who's got kids he doesn't even take care of doesn't sound so bad but, alright."
"Huh?" You stare dumbfoundedly at him.
"Toji? The guy you were just dancing with?"
"Wait so you knew him?" You gasp.
He stares at you for a moment longer before rolling his eyes and turning to storm off. You follow after him like he fully expects you to and he mostly blames whatever you'd been drinking tonight as to why you were acting denser than normal.
"Kaiso!" You huff in response to being ignored.
The man leads you into a room that you blindly follow him into, soon shutting and locking the door behind you before revealing where he'd taken you to via flicking some dim lights on. The mess of his dorm is revealed and you're looking around the place all confused before you hear his belt unbuckling.
Whipping your head around and letting your eyes fall down immediately, you gape, "What are you doing?"
"You said I was cockblocking you," Kaiso answers nonchalantly with a lazy nod of his chin towards his bed, "I'm gonna give you some to prove that I'm not."
Still feeling like some sort of airhead, you continue to stare at him like every word had run through one ear and out the other, "...What?"
Kaiso's eyes meet yours as he tugs his studded belt out from the loops of his jeans, flinging it off to the side and stepping closer to you despite his words, "Unless you don't want i-"
"Nono, I do," You cut off with an eager nod of your head.
He smiles at you, "Good." Then his fingers swiftly unzip his jeans, "Now strip."
Stuff like this is why you couldn't get enough of him. There was something oh-so-exhilarating about having two twins with two entirely different personalities be this obsessed with you. The distant fact that neither of them new about the other was, again, an added bonus to the entire thing.
Kaiso had no idea that his older brother tongued down the same cunt he was now swabbing his cock against, and Choso never knew you let his younger twin fuck you into tears in the middle of parties like this.
"Nngh, fuuck," You moan stupidly as drool threatens to spill out from your kiss-bitten lips.
Kaiso’s got a wide shit-eating grin plastered out across his lips as his hips rut into yours with heavily dragging thwacks, his hard cock bullying your squelchy insides with that rude right curve of his. "Shiiit, look at how wide your pussy spreads out for my cock. That's so nasty, isn't it?" He huffs out in between thrusts.
You’re too busy struggling to get proper air into your lungs with the way he was fucking you straight into his creaky mattress, the headboard heavily rocking against the wall loud enough to worry someone. "Kaiso," You’d mewled time ‘n time again, nails scratching somewhere at his back.
All whilst his voice was slithering itself into your ear in a thick whisper, "Hm? Can you feel that? Feel my cock allll the way in the back of that slutty pussy?"
His words were soooo filthy. It made your greedy walls clamp around his pierced shaft harder and your nails claw at his back rougher as if to beg for mercy. The rhythmic slap of skin to skin filled the entirety of his dorm with every bulling smack! of his balls.
Kaiso’s cock was stretching you open far too wide for you to think-, much less breathe with how your eyes began to travel back and your words came out more brokenly, "M'gonna cum.”
He scoffed, "Already? I barely did anything, baby." Then one of his hands snuck down in between the two of you to softly greet your clit with a politely swirling motion, "Did those kisses get you this worked up? Hm?"
"Yeahh," You gasped as if you were stuck in some kind of trance, drips of sweat from his body mingling with the perspiration from your own.
"Yeahh?" He mocks in a slightly pitched whine that had you unconsciously running from his rather brutal thrusts, "A couple of kisses gets this pussy all wet 'n needy f'me?” Kaiso question rhetorically before leaning up a bit to look down at the sinful spread of your cunt, “You poor girlll."
You sent a pout up his way, blissed-out drool decorating the corner of your mouth, "S-Shut up.”
His head cocked over to the side and you felt his dick twitch inside you just as his plump tip tapped against that spongey sweet spot of yours—just barely. "Whaaaat, are you mad 'cause I'm right? Mad ‘cause of how well I know your body?"
"You're s-soo fucking annoying," You argued with furrowed brows.
Part of you wanted to tell him in times like this how he wasn't the only one you let ruin you like this, how his own brother knows the same sensitive spots he's currently hitting like the back of his hand.
But it’s hard to find the courage to bring that up when he pinpoints said spot and begins to drill into it, moving an arm to wrap around one of your legs and tug it up—thus leaving you halfway on your side.
Your hand flies off to grasp at the sheets for support but it’s little to no use. "F-Fuck, right thereee-,” You choked out thoughtlessly, letting your jaw dangle open as heavy breaths tumbled out of you in between your cracked array of moans.
All while your bodily reactions seemed to inflate his ego, "Ohh, I found it again, huh? That lil' sensitive spot of yours.”
"Kaiso-, nngh.. m'gonna cum," You panted again, tucking your face over and into the bedding for cover.
The sight of you doin that seems to set him off with the way his hips buck forward even harder-, faster. No longer bullying but more punishing now, “Lemme see it," Kaiso demands through slightly gritted teeth.
He watched how his rough movements caused you to lose your grip on the sheets, especially as he turned his head to kiss at the leg he held up against his chest, sucking hickies into your skin and huffing all over you.
When your pretty glossed-over eyes finally meet his again, he moans before catching himself. Regaining his composure for just long enough to grunt, "Go on, make a pretty mess on that dick. And look at me while you do it, juust like that.” He coos.
You barely remember the whorish way in which you kept your eyes on his—how you’d began to meet his hips with rolls of your own, and how loud you’d whined when your orgasm finally washed over you.
Then came his kind praises, fluttering past his lips without second thought, “There she is, there’s my pretty girlll.” Kaiso cooed.
You were left twitching and shaking under him before he pulled out and left a sticky mess of cum against your stomach. Every Kaiso came, it was messy and stupidly creamy—bits landing up on your fucked-out expression as you laid there and took your time in catching your breath.
The distant music thumping throughout the house begins to dawn on you again as you realize the party had been going on all this time. Kaiso was busy getting himself cleaned up after doing so for you, trying to straighten up his room a little so when you finally come to, you won't try and scold him like about his lack of tidiness as you've done before.
A few more minutes of soft shuffles pass by before you're getting up and moving to put your clothes back on, swiping up your phone from where it'd fallen to earlier, and then making your way towards the door without much of a word.
Kaiso clears his throat to catch your attention just before you go, leading you to turn around and catch how he sends you a small smile, "Text me when you get home, okay?"
"Mhm," You hum sleepily.
He had half a mind to bring you back into his bed and try to convince you to stay the night since you were already here but, the last time he did that, you got upset with him for acting like your boyfriend—a bad habit of his that he's somewhat trying to break.
"Wait, c'mere." Kaiso calls out anyway.
When you slowly pace back over to him, he brushes all stray hairs out of your face and goes as far as straightening you up a bit more so you don't look completely fucked out, and then leans in to kiss your forehead.
Whispering, "Get home safe."
The softness in his words throw you off more than his actions earlier had. Swallowing it down, you're quick to nod in response before finally parting ways with him.
By the time you make it outside and the night air slaps you with somewhat of a wakeup call, you realize that it was things like that which caused your heart strings to be tugged at.
Both of the twins did it. Choso—usually during real study sessions when you got something right or taught him something new, and Kaiso—right after sex when he longed to pull you back into his arms and keep you there for the rest of the night.
——
Overall, that's how your relationship with each brother played out. Paths that were never to be crossed over one another, even though there were some late nights where you'd begrudgingly fantasized about it...
You went on for months and months before ever getting caught. You'd had a couple of close calls with them both throughout that time, of course.
Sometimes you nearly called Choso by his brother's name, especially in moments when he took his glasses off to clean the, and other times you made references to study sessions that never took place with Kaiso.
They never put two and two together until one night in particular though.
It was rare that the Kamo twins were home at the same time since Kaiso typically stayed in a dorm while Choso remained home. Even so, you'd been to the Kamo family house with each of them a couple of times—always making sure that the other was nowhere nearby when you did so.
But, what you forgot to account for was their sweet baby brother Yuji.
Their sweet baby brother Yuji who had the most unfortunate habit of wandering into rooms completely unannounced, who noticed everything, and who was not shy to speak without thinking.
The living room had been quiet for the past thirty minutes or so, safe for the mellow sound of the TV playing ahead. All three brothers sat lounging around in their respective spots in the room.
Yuji was sprawled out against the carpet mostly distracted by his phone while Choso read some book and Kaiso scrolled away on his phone. This was very much the quiet before the storm.
The beginning of said storm all starting when Yuji scrolled past a reel of cookies and perked his head up, eyes flocking over to his more unkept older brother, who's hair was a shaggier mess as it splayed out around his face. "Hey Kaiso," Yuji began, instantly capturing all of the man's attention, "Are you still helping that girl with her night anxiety stuff?"
Night anxiety...? Choso found himself snorting at the excuse his twin gave Yuji, knowing damn well that was code for some hook-up Kaiso brought over in the past.
Slowly raising a brow, "Uhm, yeah..? Why?" Kaiso said slowly, biting back a smile.
The whole night anxiety story was something cheap he'd told the pink-haired boy one time when he had questions about the weird sounds coming from his room while you were over one night.
"Oh, I was just wondering when she'd come over again. She brought me cookies one time and they were really good," Yuji sighs whilst he turns back to his phone, as if he didn't just cause a mindfuck of confusion with that innocently made statement of his.
Kaiso stares for a long moment before awkwardly chuckling, "Huh? What cookies?"
Choso fully looks up from his book and tips his glasses away from crookedness against his marked nose, "Yuji, are you sure you're not getting us confused? I think you're mistaking Ms. Night Anxiety for my project partner, she's the one who brought you cookies."
Casually, like he wasn't actively exposing you without even realizing it, Yuji goes back to scrolling through his phone as he speaks, "Then my question is for both of you, when are you guys gonna bring her over again?"
The twins blink in sync before looking at one another.
Kaiso's the first to scoff, "What?"
Then Choso follows up with a look of concern towards their younger brother, "How is your question for both of us?"
Yuji shrugs, "Uhm, because you study with the same girl he helps with night anxiety, duh...?" The boy snorts, still staring at his phone while the twins unintentionally shoot him daggers.
Choso instantly turns his head to Kaiso, "The fuck is he talking about?"
Kaiso shrugs, "Hell if I know. Yuji, are you sure you don't have us mistaken here? I know we look alike but-"
"I'm pretty good with faces," Yuji cuts off before standing up and looking at his older brothers, "So unless this girl has a twin too, I'm preeeetty sure she's been over with both of you plenty of times."
Before jumping too far into conclusions, Choso clasps his book shut and leans forward to carefully ask, "And, prey tell, have you caught her name at all?"
"Yeah, cause I'm still convinced you've got us mixed up," Kaiso puffs out, leaning back against the couch as he scoffs, "No shot we're seeing the same-"
Yuji says your name and the twins freeze up.
Then, slowly, they look at one another at the exact same time. Some sort of twin-telepathy seems to take place as they gauge one another's relations to the name that'd just been uttered. Finding that Yuji was right—that you are the same girl they'd both been seeing—both of them can't help but scoff in unison.
"No fucking way," Kaiso spits out with a scowl pressing itself into his lips.
"Unbelievable," Choso hums unnervingly calm.
Since you weren't present for the whole ordeal, you never couldn't even begin to imagine how unbelievably fucked you were.
——
Luckily, it was mostly in the way you preferred it to be.
But when it came time for the twins to confront you, it sure as hell did not seem that way.
The first strike was receiving a text from both of them at the same time. You should've known something was up from that alone. You'd executed your entire relationship with each of them without a hitch or overlap of communication like this ever happening, and yet...
Choso: Hey, can you come over? I need your help reviewing something and I want to see you.
Kaiso: I miss you, come over
The synchronized invite was odd, of course, but that didn't stop you from getting ready to go see one of them. In your mind, they lived in two separate places. While Kaiso had brought you over to the Kamo house a couple times in the past, he resided mostly in his dorm so you never considered the possibility of him inviting you over like that to his family home.
As far as Choso was concerned though, it was a norm for the two of you to meet up at his house.
Which is exactly why you were over there within the next hour, having left poor Kaiso on delivered whilst you pretended not to see his text. Surely a "review" was more important than hooking up with the fratboy for the nth time in your life...
As you stand out in the cold, waiting for someone to answer the door from you recent knocking, you fidget with the ends of your jacket a bit—getting this feeling that somethings about to happen the longer you stand there. It's like Choso was taking longer to open the door than norma-
"Hey," The front door swings open and the voice that hits your ears makes your stomach drop. Especially as the greeting is followed by a smooth, "How'd you know I wanted you to come here and not to my dorm?"
Shit.
Cocking his head to the side, Kaiso sizes you up 'n down before cracking an all-too-knowing smirk, "Unless, of course, you really chose my brother over me?"
ShitShitShitShitShit.
Brain stuttering, heart thumping, and eyes gone as wide as possible, "I uh-,"
"Told you she prefers me," Choso adds in suddenly from behind the man, his head popping out from the side as the door opens wider and the Kamo twins stand before you in their annoyingly hot glory, "Right, sweetheart?"
Oh you're so fucked.
You tried thinking of something-, anything to say that'd get you out of this. Something about how you responded to the wrong text, or showed up at the wrong address, or literally anything that'd distract them for long enough to give you an opportunity to run off and never turn back.
But, before anything comes out of you and while you're standing there with shock etched into your every feature, Kaiso shakes his head disappointedly. Running a hand through his loose head of hair and pushing stray strands out of his face, "I wonder how long you were gonna keep this up."
Your lips part to breathe out an excuse but Choso beats you in speaking. "Seriously, did you think we wouldn't find out?" He asks with an amused little smile pressed out across his lips.
You'd never seen him so smug in your life. And his brother seemed to be doused in a sense of superiority or knowing that you hadn't recognized for him. Having them both stare you down like this made you feel small.
"I..." You swallow thickly and stupidly manage to say the first thing that comes to mind. "I thought you guys were the same person...?"
Oh girl...
Choso almost laughs at you, "That's cute." Then he lets his gaze travel your body in eager glances, "But we don't fuck like the same person now, do we?"
"You-"
Kaiso finally flashes that full, toothy smile of his as he leans back a bit, "Maybe we should show her, huh?"
"Y'know what, yeah, I think I like the sound of that." Choso agrees.
Fuck.
Moments later and you could be found in a position you'd only ever dreamed about before now.
There was no way you were gonna turn them down when they offered to show you how differently they fuck but, you didn't exactly expect your sweet Choso to be so... crude with you now that he's passing you back 'n forth between himself and his twin. Nor did you expect Kaiso to get ten times worse than he normally was with you!
“Oh c’monnnn now. I taught you how to take dick better than that, no?” The younger Kamo twin huffed out as he watched you struggle pathetically to sink down on to the base of his deliciously pierced cock.
Now, even though you'd done it time and time again, something about riding a man with the infamous Jacob's Ladder decorating his wiiidely stretching shaft while his twin brother stared you down was-
“S’too muuuch!” You'd cried out, attempting to lift your body away from Kaiso while Choso stood in front of you and moved his hand under your jaw to tip your head up.
“Such a whiny girl,” He cooed, tilting his head to catch how you instinctively began to grind yourself down despite your complaints, “You say things like that ‘n yet your hips are still movin’.”
“Well I can’t help it,” You huff rather brattily, feeling Choso slide a thump into your mouth as he caught the way your tongue stuck out with each inch and pair of silver jewelry you sunk down on, “I-It still feels good...”
Kaiso was slouched back as he enjoyed his having the first go at you, just brely holding himself back from fucking his cock up senselessly into you. Though it was really hard not to. One thing the Kamo brothers always struggled with was seeing you on top of them.
Even so, between your slow decent he's still managing a smug smile, “Yeahhh, I bet it does. Better than my brother, right?” Your pussy clenches soakingly around him and you gasp. To which he slips his bottom lip into his mouth to stop something rather whimperish from leaving him. Instead grunting, “Oh?”
“Guess that’s a no, huh, Kaiso?" Choso boasts from in front of you.
“Whatever,” Kaiso scoffs, eyes rolling as his hips buck up all punishingly. “She’s just got too much cock inside her to think straight right now.” He claims as he, quite literally, fucks all thoughts out your head.
Choso stares at you with kindhearted eyes before forcing your head to face him more, “S’that true? Are you fucked too stupid already?”
“M-Mhmm,” You mumble, one of your eyes beginning to shut as you feel yourself getting cockdrunk already. And to think they'd only just started.
“Liarr.” Choso taunts, thumbing your lips apart as you leave a drooly mess all over his hand. “You wanted this, didn’t you? To get passed back ‘n forth by us like this?"
Your head shakes. Partly because you couldn't think and also because you didn't exactly expect this to ever happen for you.
Something sopping and wet is making a sliiick mess inside Choso's boxers but he's trying his best to ignore it as he continues to tease you, “No?”
“Told ya’ she was fucked too stupid,” Kaiso answers before you can, “Look at her.” He forces you up and off his soaked dick to reveal just how much of a mess you’d already left on him. “She’s fuckin’ filthy for this shit. Here, take her.”
You’re shoved into the older twin all roughly in a way that has your greedy cunt squeezing around nothing.
“You’re right. Only a dummy would tell such an obvious lie like that.” Choso tuts. Then he pushes out a pout to mock the one you have, “All that time I spent being nice ‘n gentle with you… just for you to want me and my brother to slut this pussy out.”
“Choso, I—“
“Shhh, I wasn’t done talking, princess." He shuts you up quick with that and then forces you down on your knees, "God, you need to learn some manners too, huh?” As he says that, you watch him slowly work his pants down to let his cock spring out.
Another thing the Kamo twins had in common was the fearsome right favoring direction of their cocks. Kaiso had a curve and Choso had a lean. Either way, it never mattered which one was in front of you or inside you—you craved both all the same.
Choso gathers his dick into one of his hands while the other moves to the top of your head, "Well, don't jus' sit there 'n stare at at. Open up, sweetheart."
It's downright slutty the way your lips part and you lean forward, meeting the fat crown of his cock with the center of your tongue and then lazily letting it round the entirety of his tip.
The groan Choso lets out is heavy with his own arousal. Meanwhile Kaiso's still sat on the couch watching his brother slowly begin to fuck the inside of your mouth.
"Guess this is what we should've been studying all that time, huh?" The older Kamo twin asks rhetorically, "How well you take cock in that slutty throat of yours," Choso clarifies in a a way that makes you feel dirty. "Can't believe you had us both fooled."
It's not long before your throat is thoroughly fucked to the point of being bruised. Choso hadn't pulled himself out until he was sure your mouth had fully taken to the very shape of him and directly after that, you were roughly moved to be properly shared by the twins.
Kaiso was in front of you and Choso was behind you now—both looking at you as if you were the sexiest thing they'd ever set their eyes on.
Your entire body felt like it was on fire with how worked up you were, pussy slobbering on nothing with each second that passed. You whined softly as you watched the duo selfishly jerk themselves off to the sight of you positioned in between them like some whore.
Up until Kaiso finally squeezed his hand around his swollen tip and then let the rest of his cock come over to slap! across your cheek, earning your full attention for a moment.
“Stop bein’ lazy, spread that pussy open for him. C’mon now.” He directed meanly.
You do exactly that ever so slowly, reaching a hand back and letting your fingers move to sprawl your puffy pussylips apart for the man behind you.
Choso didn't waste a second in angling his tip up against your hole, soon smacking your hand out the way as if he didn't hear his twin give you instructions less than a moment ago.
When he finally starts to press into you, you think you let out a moan but you're not really sure with the way it's muffled around Kaiso's cock sliding into your mouth. You're easily sandwiched between the two men in a way that says you were always meant to be.
“So slooooppy in here,” Choso drawls out after only a few thrusts. “No matter how many times I play with you, you just keep gushing, and gushing, and gushing..” He points out, one hand tucked under you to work over your dripping clit.
Kaiso's got a look on his face that truly makes you feel more debauched than ever before as his cock ruts in and out of your mouth, piercings gliding against your tongue and dragging out across your mouth every now and then, "Her lips are all puffy ‘n swollen too, awhh.”
In a matter of moments, the two are thrusting in some sort of rhythmic fashion that has your body jerking back 'n forth and back 'n forth, leaving you unable to do anything but moan and cum around each cock that occupied your slutty holes.
Choso was occasionally pulling out just to spit on you—the splatter usually landing somewhere on your back—and Kaiso was sometimes missing your mouth and instead grinding up against your face with everything he had to offer. His cock had rubbed all over you to a point of no return.
There was no way either of them would let you go off and be with anyone else after this. No, no, from here on out they were going to make it clear that you belonged to them.
“S-Shiiiit,” With one last mean slap from his dick, Choso pulls out of you and lets your body fall forward a little while he jerks at his cock with quick tugs, shakily spelling out K-A-M-O across both cheeks of your ass with his cum. Panting as he stares down at the pretty sight.
Meanwhile Kaiso's just barely finishing up with your throat, blushing cockhead leaking a stickier ensemble of cum against your tongue. He forces your head off of his dick in just enough time to spell out an accompanying word to math the one written across your ass.
His hand roughly tugs your mouth apart and your tongue rolls out as you struggle to catch your breath between your slight coughs. Then, you see how focused Kaiso is as he spells out S-L-U-T against your tongue—seeming more focused than he'd ever been in his life.
It.. It was almost like the two had planned it out.
Especially with how they both pull out their phones and ask, “Can I take a picture?” in sync.
Do you remember what answer you gave them? Fuck no.
Does the prospect of knowing a picture like that probably exists in both of their phones scare the shit out of you later anytime you even think of making one of them jealous? Duh.
But regardless of what your answer was to them, the only other thing you vividly remember from that night of blissful punishment was the way the door had swung open just as the flashes from their phones went off.
“Yo,” A new voice suddenly chimes in—deeper, heavier, lazier with the syllables. Then entering the room comes yet another member of the Kamo family. You’d have smelled the thick aroma of weed oozing off of him if it wasn’t for the scent of sex crawling about the air. “Have you guys seen my-, oh.”
You and him make eye contact.
You’re a slutty mess of tears and disheveled hair while he’s peering at you with widened, jaded eyes.
It was their older brother. The drug dealer. Or, as many like to call him—the campus plug.
