WANT TO P-P-PLAY ft. CAMBOY! YUUJI
+ synopsis. your friends have been pestering you to check out this one hot trending camboy and you’ve always shut them down. but one drunken, lonely night, you find yourself subscribing to this ouija dirty. with a stroke of luck, a special personal request of yours is granted, and you then find yourself with one hand holding your phone, the other down your pants.
it’s all good fun, really — until you transfer to another university and find out that the same man you'd been jerking off to live on fridays is the same man who also happens to be your classmate, a.k.a. the hot senior in your art class.
+ cw. fem! reader, college au, scars, modulo! yuuji uses a pseud, totally made up streaming platform, mutual masturbation technically, use of sex toys, live streaming, hot man whimpering, p in v sex, use of the phrase “beat your bean” once, size kink, praise kink, slightly rough, slight humiliation, squirting, 8 inches just bec, no beta bye — MDNI / 18+ (7.1K WORDS)
+ kiko’s note. yeah this is 2 years overdue. originally a wbk fic turned jjk. I was horny, laughing, horny-laughing while I wrote and rewrote this over and over again. enjoy <3
Ding.
Your eyes dart to your phone placed on the far left counter of your bathroom sink. It’s the text tone you had assigned to your friend group chat, but as you are in the middle of your skincare routine, you pay no mind to it. You resume your pre-bedtime ritual.
Ding. Ding.
You look again but quickly brush off the persistent notifications, ignoring the back-to-back tones as you lather foam all over your face.
Ding. Ding. Diiiiiiiiiing.
“What the hell?” Your phone can barely keep up with the notifications piling on top of each other. Your brows furrow in confusion, wondering what the commotion is about.
Your phone goes quiet for a second before it starts to ring again, but this time, it plays the ringtone of an incoming video chat request from your friends. You finally decide to answer, placing your phone where your friends can see you with white clouds all over your face. “Hell—”
“Finally!”
“Took you long enough!”
“What the fuck were you doing?”
Your friends talk all at once, sounding like a mad choir of different wild registers — one that splits your ears as it berates you for your absence as if you’d gone dark for a week when it’s only been a couple of minutes.
“Yeah, yeah.” You wince at the incessant shouting, keeping your phone at arm’s length as you lower the volume when the yapping continues. “So, what’s going on? Is someone pregnant? Did someone cheat?” you ask as soon as the scolding tones down.
“He’s back! Ouija Dirty is back!”
“Who?”
“Hello?! Mr. 8 inches?” One of your friends squints, waiting for bells to ring in your head, but nothing comes to mind. “The camboy! Seriously, you gotta listen to what I tell you sometimes.”
“Ah- him.” You wash the soap off and pat your face dry with a towel, muffling your voice. “Deep voice, scars? I remember.”
“You’ve gotta see this.” Another one teases, eagerly waiting for you to watch the video she sends in the chat. “I swear, Mr. Ouija Dirty was already doing wonders before this— but last night for his comeback, he started using toys.”
You don’t bother to even open the chat. Instead, you go straight to your bedroom and get ready to sleep, bed creaking when you lie on your side. “Sorry. Need all the rest I can get before I transfer schools. And I’m not paying $10 to get off to someone jacking off when I can use my fingers for free.”
“Yeah, but I feel like you’d really like him. He—”
“I’m going to bed.”
“HEY—”
The corners of your mouth turn upright as you watch your friends frantically try to sell this camboy to you like they’re sales pitchers on a month’s end commission. “STOP— DON’T GO, YOU’LL MISS THE BEST PAR—”
“Goodnight!” you hum as you drop the call, thinking this’ll be the last you’ll hear of this Mr. Dirty.
…
Retiring from a night out at 11 pm on a Friday night is too unusual. Unsettling. Your room feels painfully empty. So empty, it makes the space between your legs feel awfully unoccupied. Tonight, out of all nights, you find yourself lonely… and a little tipsy.
After shuffling in bed for god knows how long, you finally reach for your phone. It becomes your only source of light, brightness level on blast, illuminating your face. Your eyes dart back and forth from the search bar, down to your keyboard. “You don’t know what happened. Your fingers started moving on their own,” is what you tell yourself and what you plan on telling your friends if they ever find out you had downloaded The Pink Room™ — one that hues your face a bright pink as soon as you open it.
The app surprisingly has no sketchy ads. No pop-ups asking you if you want to meet a hot dilf 20 miles from you. User experience too smooth that it doesn’t take long before you’re registered with a burner email. As for your next hurdle;
“What’s his name. Soulja? Outie?” You forget, but it was something weird and horny. Your thumbs hover over your keyboard as you venture a guess. But the second you type O-U… the first result that pops up is his user, @ ouijadirty with a big star right next to his name, indicating he’s one of the trending searches. And next to the star is a red dot. “Oh?”
The red dot™.
He’s live. Looking at his profile, you can definitely see how for an “amateur” he’s pretty popular. His patrons are in the thousands, with hundreds currently watching. “Is that a lot?” you hum. “Maybe. Can’t imagine 653 people watching me live as I jack off.”
You’re not thinking straight. You’re drunk and lonely and desperate, you should just go to bed but—
“Fuck it.” The chime of a successful payment rings. Suddenly, you find yourself subscribed to a camboy, in this day and age.
Please wait. We will let you in shortly.
It says on the top right corner of your screen there’s only about 20 minutes left till the stream ends.
And from pink, your face hues blue, the color of his room. This is how you make Ouija Dirty’s acquaintance. The screen cuts the rest of his face off just above his neck. He shuffles in his seat as he gets comfortable with his little toy, pink fleshlight pumping his cock. Looking around, you can see his room is ambiently lit with posters of artworks in various mediums, mostly paintings from what you can make of them, including blurry photographs pinned to his wall in the background. All that and a suspect, out of place poster of Jennifer Lawrence in a bikini.
His voice is deep. Charming even. He talks through his pumps for the most part, teasing his Dirty Does™ that are wilding in the comments, nothing that seems out of the ordinary.
“Okay, I admit his body is nice.” It’s immaculate. He’s built as fuck but you’re mostly taken by the scars adorning his body from the chest down. Whatever horror, event, or entity could’ve scarred him to this extent — you’re grateful he made it out alive to show you all his might. Well, almost all of it.
It’s a shame the fleshlight covers his full length, and Mr. Dirty only drags the toy halfway through until he’s back to pumping down to the base. You want to see all of him because if you’re paying well, you want to be fed well. “When does it get goo—”
“O-oh, fuuuck,” he drags out his groans, all breathy and deep and guttural, adam’s apple bobbing with his every grunt, abdomen flexing and twitching as he practically milks himself with his toy. You chew on the inside of your cheek as his curses grow more pronounced, your lips cooing a silent ooh the more he piques your interest. He doesn’t stop pumping even as his cum oozes out of his toy, white sticky ring forming around the base of his cock, hips bucking into his hand as he spills out every last ounce of his seed.
The comments flood his stream while a second load of his cum oozes out of his toy. He chuckles, catching his breath, and more comments come in waves one after another on how fucking hot that was. Well, it was. And he fucking is. And right on cue, he takes off his fleshlight revealing himself in all his glory. Him, and all of his 8 inches, just like your friends had told you. But never mind the length. His girth is ridiculous.
Heat rises to your cheeks when you try to imagine all that meat between your legs, pussy clenching at the thought. You mentally kick yourself over your untimely subscription, with 5 minutes remaining in the stream and you’re left wanting more.
But before you could kick yourself even further… “I’m feeling a little generous tonight,” he cuts off your thoughts, slightly out of breath, and wipes off the sweat trickling down his torso.
“I know I kept you all hanging while I was away. So, to celebrate my comeback,” You can almost hear the smile in his voice along with the non-existent drum roll for his next set of words. He straightens, abs contracting as he fiddles with his softening cock in hand, sticky, glistening ring at the base, “I’m picking a lucky Doe‘s request from the comments. Go wild my Dirty Does”
“I mean… it wouldn’t hurt…” Your phone’s keyboard clicks as you type in your request.
“Hm? Interesting,” Ouija hums.
You shake your head. “Not like he’s gonna pick me anyway.”
“Can I,” he reads off one of the comments, “hear you whimper?”
“Shut up,” you say in disbelief. He reads not just any comment. “Shut up?”
“Whimper, huh? Never done that for anyone before,” he starts off sounding sheepish and scratches the back of his neck, “but I meant what I said. I’m feeling very generous. User @ justcuriousrly, I’m sending it to you in private. I —”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” You miss the rest of his words as you quickly turn your phone face down, losing your only source of light while you cover your mouth in shock. Unless someone else with a similar-sounding user commented the exact same set of words, Ouija Dirty just happened to pick your comment out of the hundreds that came flooding in.
Your face reaches a level of hot you’ve never felt before and you swear you might have conjured up a fever at that very moment.
…
You tap the heel of your foot in anticipation, replaying his words in your head over and over again to the point where it feels as if you have officially changed your name to user @ justcuriousrly.
It’s been 15 minutes since he’s ended the stream. Which means you’ve been waiting for 15 minutes. That’s 15 minutes too long. You can almost hear the chorale of I told you so’s sung by the wild orchestra that is your friends. Humiliation in D. But like hell you’d let them know how this guy has you in a chokehold after having just met him.
Whoosh, your phone rings and lights up. A notification reads, “Message request from user @ ouijadirty.” You take a deep breath, squeezing your hand into a balled fist before opening it.
“hope u like it my special doe. moand whimpered and cummed to the thought of u. see u in the next stream! ⚡︎”
The thumbnail alone is enough to send shivers down your spine, heart running back to back marathons over the fact that this video is practically made for your eyes only. The preview features a portrait view of his torso down to his thighs, his cock ironically hiding behind the play button, and you’re almost convinced that it’s the universe’s cruel way of building your anticipation. And making fun of you. He had used a different camera, likely the front camera of his phone. The angle is much closer to his body. So intimate, it almost feels like you’re just a few feet away from his fat cock.
Play.
“Oh, oh fuck, OHH~” Shit! Headphones! You jolt back, nearly dropping your phone upon hearing his whimpers on full blast, afraid the sound might spill and echo across the corridors of your dorm.
You scour your bedside table for your headphones that took too fucking long (2 seconds) to pair with your phone.
Suddenly, you’re holding your phone with one hand while the other finds its way to the inside of your pajamas and onto your clit.
You don’t respond to him but you’ve lost count of how many times you found yourself in a compromising situation that night, moaning to the whimpers of your 1st ever camboy as you beat your bean, playing the 1-minute and 30-second video 8 more times till you reach your 4th orgasm for the night.
…
You keep mum about your patronage since. Having been preoccupied with all things related to your transfer to a different university, you could barely afford to think about him at all. Of course, orientations just had to have fallen on Fridays, beating you to a pulp, rendering you unable to even stay up for his livestreams.
It’s been a while but a couple of weeks prior, you were at least able to catch up on his previous streams, falling asleep to replays, particularly to the sound of him whispering sweet nothings as he pumps his cock, squelch of lubed up foreskin making for an interesting lullaby.
But the transition has you beat. There’s barely enough time to get you up to speed with everything — settling in your dorm, remembering where your classes are, and actually taking your classes. You barely make it in one piece on your first day, and yet here you are, or at least what’s left of you.
You suppose even you aren’t immune to the awkward feeling of being the “new kid” who transfers in the middle of an academic year, and on your junior year too. Funny. You’d think people would’ve gotten used to it by now in college.
Still, you’re grateful. Making an acquaintance in university has become easier after being assigned an unofficial guide to show you the ropes. Nobara — another junior with the same major as you — her company has been nice for the most part. Save for the rough attention she gives her peers, some interesting profiles she’s obviously close with.
And speaking of interesting, there’s one who catches your attention during art class — your last class of the day — where you’ve been fighting tooth and nail against the weight of your eyelids. As soon as you enter your classroom, your eyes meet with brown ones of a pinkette, a student with scars on his face. He sits next to a near-expressionless spikey-haired man, the former’s demeanor in loud and stark contrast to the latter’s. You could even hear the loud one from outside before you came in.
You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something about him that makes you stop and stare.
He’s surrounded by a horde of girls, one with a distinctly annoying fake laugh, obviously trying to catch his attention by the way her eyes keep flocking to his direction, as if to see if he’s looking her way. But he’s not. He pays no mind to her, or any of them.
He must get a lot of attention. He’s quite easy on the eyes — pretty, even — scars and all, his voice deep, his pink, textured hair pushed back. He wears an unzipped hoodie over a white tank top with scars peaking out of his torso where he shows skin. You could’ve sworn those scars looked familiar.
“Hey,” you whisper to Nobara who’s right next to you. “Who is that?”
Nobara’s eyes dart to whom your finger points. “Ah,” she says it like she’s answered this question multiple times before. “Hot guy, scars, noisy?”
“That’s the one.”
“Easy, that’s Yuuji. Yuuji Itadori.”
Yuuji Itadori… Yuuji Itadori… Yuuji ita…
From where they sit, both guys greet Nobara. The stoic guy quickly runs out of anything to say and Nobara takes that as her cue to usher you to a seat. As Itadori was about to return to his one-sided conversation, he sees you and looks back at you, twice — eyes squinting before flashing you a cheeky smile that tugs on his scar. He starts taking his hoodie off, and it hits you right in the head like a home run as soon as you recognize that body.
…dori — Ouija Di— oh shit.
You try not to make eye contact as you rush to the back of the room. You take the empty seat a couple rows behind him even though tons of seats are available out front. For almost the entire duration of your class, you try your hardest not to look, but you’re a helpless moth to a flame. Finally with a face to the name, not to mention an actual name to The Pink Room™ user, you can’t help but be intrigued. Even more intrigued than the lecture on advanced composition.
Even Ouija — err — Itadori seems uninterested in the lecture, whipping out his phone as soon as your professor talks about something something strokes, something something framing. Itadori begins to type and you can hear the faint keystrokes from where you sit. He pauses a second to think, erases whatever he had typed, continues to type again, and puts his phone down as soon as his phone whooshes after hitting send.
Right that second, your phone vibrates. Your brows furrow in confusion. When you open your phone, you’re immediately hit with a notification that says:
The Pink Room 1 new message from user @ ouijadirty
“hey so what did u think of the vidwo? wanna kno so bad. ⚡︎”
OH MY GOD.
You put your phone down and suddenly you’re met with dozens of your classmates’ heads turned to where you sit, your professor had stopped the lecture, and you realize you might’ve blurted that one out loud. What’s worse is, he, too, is staring at you with a puzzled look along with the others.
…
You’ve been ignoring him for the most part.
He once tried to strike up a conversation with you somewhere in the dining hall. With the most welcoming smile, he says, “You’re new here. I’m Yuuji.” He extends a hand, waiting for you to shake it, and you know for sure you had come off rude when you refused to take it and merely responded with a, “Yeah, I know.”
Well, what else could you have done if he keeps catching you off guard like that? By a stroke of luck, Nobara calls for your attention from across the dining hall, and you leave him without saying another word. Not even your name, which is what anyone with common sense and the most basic conversational skills would do.
You ask yourself, “When would be a good time to ask my unofficial student guide if her friend does live porn and if this is a known fact in our class?” You assume, “When you’ve only known each other for a few days.” is not the correct answer but at this point, you’re insanely curious.
“Yeah, he’s pretty open about it. And everyone’s cool with it as far as I know.” It gives you the impression that, probably, the only reason why he hides his face on his streams is because he gets a kick out of it. He seems like that kind of guy, after all.
“Are you— is anyone— I mean…”
“Subscribed? Nah, he’s like a brother to me. Everyone else, however…”
Nobara’s got that knowing look in her eyes, the one that says “ooh, so you’ve known him before you even transferred.” To which you say, “shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything. Hey, you do you!” she says with a hint of mischief. “’s that why he was talking you up? Think you guys look cute together, too.”
“Stop!” Your face heats up. “It’s not like that.”
“Sure. Although, you should probably know that he asked me about you the other day.”
“Ahem.” You let out a cough to hide your embarrassment. “What — uhm… what about?” You play coy.
“He asked me what you thought about his stream the other—”
“What?! How did —”
“Kidding.”
After nearly choking on your saliva, you manage to calm yourself.
“He thought you looked pretty, is all.” Nobara raises a brow and sends you a knowing smirk. She seems pretty amused about the turn of events. While all that’s flattering and all, you don’t let yourself get forget the fact that you know a lot more about Yuuji “Ouija Dirty ⚡︎” Itadori than you let on.
…
You try to avoid his streams for the next couple of weeks. You can’t bear to watch him now as it feels as if he can see you, his rude, weirdo, and apparently pretty, classmate, wanking off to his junk. However, it’s fleshlight week on his channel, and they’ve always hit different compared to his other streams. And it’s been a while since you were able to catch any breaks, so now you’ve got your dildo and lube at the ready on your bedside table.
It’s the typical POV from his neck down. Fuck, now that he finally has a face — an insane face card, if you might add — to go with the body, and one hell of a cock, too, it’s impossible not to see the whole picture. He’s got you in on a dirty little secret. And seeing him automatically flips a switch that makes heat rush to every nook and cranny of your body.
He starts off with the usuals. Funny and flirty little spiels, scars that deserve to be framed, studied, licked, and put in a museum, nothing new. As he gets comfortable in his chair, so do you in your dormitory bed, rubbing slow circles on your clit in sync with his lazy pumps of his foreskin, gathering your wetness from your cunt and him from his bottle of lubricant, smearing your slick across your folds while he spreads the gel across his length.
Oui— Itadori scratches his throat, snapping you out of your heated reverie. “So… there’s this girl in my class. My Dirty Does, she’s so hot. Fuck. Can’t stop thinking about her.”
Unsurprisingly, the comment section goes wild, with tons of his baby Does blasting at least a handful of “I WISH THAT WERE ME,” around 10 of “WHO IS SHE?!” and just dozens of tearful, crying emojis.
“Calm down my Dirty Does. I’m not going anywhere.” He takes out his iconic pink toy from behind the camera and you, your dildo lubed and ready in hand. “I’m just… smitten, that’s all.”
Your brows furrow in bitter suspicion, and then in fake nonchalance. Your mind immediately wagers it’s miss cutesy chuckles from art class. You roll your eyes.
“Anyone with eyes and a brain could see how cute she is. I wouldn’t be surprised if—”
“No. Fucking. Way.” When you see the tip of the silicone toy, you cannot believe your eyes.
In black ink are your initials, neatly and deliberately written near the tip of his fleshlight.
“Thinking ‘bout her. Fuck.” He brings the toy halfway down, and from what you can tell he cranes his head back. “I got it bad- ugh, fuck.” He picks up the pace, and it’s your cue to stretch your pussy with the tip of your own toy, mouth forming an “o” as you fuck your hole to the rhythm of his pumps. “Badly want to suck her tits as she bounces on my cock.”
“Fuuuck,” you breathe, “want his cock to stretch me out.” You feel hot and hazy, watching him get off to the thought of you while he tells you through his screen — in wondrous, guttural singsongs — how badly he wants you on his cock. He doesn’t even pay attention to the comments like he usually does. Just aimlessly, mindlessly fucking his toy in a haze. You can’t help but chime to his every cuss, can’t help but moan along with his grunts, can’t help but fuck yourself, with his heavy breathing acting as a battery to the toy in your hand.
“So t-tight. Fuck. Want to bend her over my lap and play with her pussy.” Yuuji raises a hand to cover his face, and you know for sure he’s imagining you speared pretty on his cock. In his drunken lovesick haze, he grunts in pleasure as he pounds on his cock.
“Feels, so good,” you cry out. “Want you to p-play with my pussy so bad, baby. Play with my pussy, baby. Don’t stop.”
“Don’t want to stop. ‘s so good. Want to make you cum.” There’s a shift in his voice. He… speaks to you directly. Cries out to you, your pussy, the toy in your hand. It’s almost like the other 600 in the stream don’t matter to him and you’re the only two people left. Like his grunts are for you, and only you. “Fuck. You thinking about my cock, pretty girl?”
“Thinking about your cock, i-itadori~”
“Thinking about your pussy, pretty girl. Cum with me, pretty girl. Cum for me.”
“Yes, Y-Yuuji!” you answer him back. “I-I’m cumming— oh fuck! Baby, I’m cumming. Oh~ oh! I’m cumming. I—”
Yuuji lets out a hearty laugh, chest heaving as he finishes in his toy.
“I got it bad,” he mutters, hint of disbelief in his voice. And you’re afraid maybe you do, too.
…
It was a bad idea. You just had to rewatch his stream when you have a class together the next day. Now, you feel as if you’re walking down the hallway butt naked, like everyone can tell what, and who, your wank material was the night before. Irrational, but still, your head hangs low. And you’re definitely not going to look Yuuji in the eye when you get to your classroom. Not even when he’s practically blocking the entrance, leaning on the doorframe as he talks to his spikey-haired friend.
He hits you with his usual smile, still keen on being friendly even after you rejected his advances. He mumbles something about how lovely you look today. But you completely ignore his existence, lest your acknowledgement of his presence be an admission of guilt. He feigns dejection but quickly reverts his attention back to his friend. And you, you’re intent on just beelining to your desk but something he says stops you dead in your tracks.
“… dunno. Just curious, really.”
“Huh?” you blurt out on instinct, looking back at Yuuji.
Bewilderment on his face slowly melts into a smirk, synapses buzzing in his head.
Fuck.
“It’s you!” Suddenly, he’s beaming, eyes gleaming in the know.
“W-what are you talking about? I’m—”
“You know me. Remember?” He leans closer to your frame. “The dining hall?”
“Oh!” Phew. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“Morning,” he greets as he leans closer to your ear, “my special Doe.”
Shit.
Shitshitshit!
…
You try to keep calm. The situation isn’t exactly as bad as you think it is, at least that’s what you tell yourself. So what if he discovered who you really are? And he likes you, too. There is no other way to save face except to accept the situation as it is. You wait for the bell to approach him.
“Hey, Yuuji. Can we talk?”
“What about, my special doe?” he hums a teasing tune, not a care in the world how everyone in class is still practically within earshot. Your eye twitches at the term of endearment and his grin only grows wider.
“I just want to thank you, ’s all,” you say with a straight face. Yuuji raises his brows.
“I think…” you trail. You hold your hand out, and he takes it. He stiffens only for a brief moment upon contact with the piece of paper in his palm, “… your work is amazing. I’ll see you around.”
Your strides are heavy but paced as you make your way to the door. You take this second to glance over your shoulder only to see Yuuji like a puppy blessed with a sweet treat, shooting you the sweetest smile on his face, along with the opened piece of paper in his hand.
The only time he takes his eyes off yours is when he whips out his phone, typing in your number on his contacts.
Right as you leave, you get a text from him that says:
see u around my pretty doe ⚡︎
…
The next few days seem eerily normal. For the most part, it doesn’t particularly feel like you’re texting a man who makes a decent buck streaming his world class cock to hundreds of viewers on Fridays. Just a charming guy. He never forgets to tell you how pretty you looked that day. Never forgets to ask you how your day was, or what you’re up to. But then come the random bouts of innuendos that shatter the illusion where he says something along the lines of, “thinking of u now gonna be thinking of u again on friday.”
Lack of proper punctuation, spelling, and capitalization aside, he’s a really sweet guy.
On Friday, during your free period, he finally asks if you’d like to get coffee with him then and there.
You have such a pleasant time together that you ended up coming over to his apartment that same day.
A shockwave of embarrassment and — surprisingly — relief dawns on you when he decides to come clean.
On his couch, with an arm around your waist, after you tell him how you found out about him through your friends, he tells you he knew you were watching his streams after he tried to hit on you at the dining hall. And apparently, Nobara was telling the truth when she said he thought you were pretty, and that he’d asked about you — the adorable pretty girl who left a strong impression on him in art class. At least he was interested in you before he found out you were one of his Pink Room regulars.
“If you already knew my name, why did you ask for it at the dining hall?”
“So I can properly ask you out, duh?” Yuuji lets out a soft chuckle, soothing your waist with his thumb when you try to fit all the puzzle pieces in your head.
And then, it hits you. He knew you’d be watching when he did the stream with your initials. He probably knows that people don’t exactly subscribe to him for casual kicks. Not like the average Netflix series where you can just crack open a bottle of soda and eat popcorn, and turn the TV off when you’ve had your fill. No, people subscribe to him for the same reason he milks himself dry when it’s fleshlight week. They’re all just horny and looking for thrills.
God. That stream was definitely of you and for you. So that means, while he was fucking his toy — the one that had your pretty initials in black permanent ink — he probably knew you’d be playing with yourself along with him.
To say your face is overheating at this very moment is an understatement. Your stomach churns from downing all of that information and — all the while — having Yuuji pressed to your hip, your own shirt riding up your sides, his thumb stroking your exposed skin.
The final puzzle piece was how you reacted when he had blurted out your user, which was really just a very lucky coincidence on his part.
“Why didn’t you — ahem — ask me out then?” Your eyes trail to his lips, ones he tugs into a faint smirk.
“You knew about me first so I thought I’d have my fun and toy with you a little.” His voice drops and he leans closer to your face. “And you’re so cute when you’re flustered.”
You open your mouth but no words come out. You inhale as you search for the words, but it causes Yuuji to lean even closer. At this point, there’s nothing to say.
“You mad?”
You shake your head. No need for words, not when Yuuji started licking his lips. Maybe you started licking yours, too. Because his eyes trailed to your lips; let out a low, breathy chuckle, before giving your side a tight squeeze.
“Good.”
He kisses you slow. Intimate. You melt into his touch, his soft lips. He’s got all the time in the world to explore your mouth, and suck in the air from your lungs. He nips your lower lip softly and you take that as an invitation to straddle him.
He slides a hand underneath your shirt, fondling your tit. When juices pool between your legs, a dirty little thought pops into your head. And with it, courage in your guts. You stop him from going any further.
“Something wrong—”
“Actually, I have an idea.”
…
Something blue and something new. Looks like that’s the theme of today’s stream. At least that’s how you imagine it looks from the perspective of Yuuji’s Dirty Does. One particular Doe today, has a different view of the stream.
You were unsure whether this little stint would ruin his viewership. But the prospect of it made Yuuji excited enough that he practically bolted through his bedroom door and set up his stream hours earlier than usual.
His room looks smaller to you. Maybe it’s because you never thought about the studio lights, or the desktop and recording setup on the other side of the room. Multiple monitors, a mounted microphone, an expensive camera. His room is actually decked in subtle luxury, you realize after seeing his gear up close, with every single piece of equipment down to his furniture easily being worth a lot of money.
That, and maybe it looks smaller because you feel cramped up as you sit in Ouija Dirty’s lap, armchair supporting the weight of you and him. He rubs circles on your bare stomach as he waits for the stream to populate.
No need for introductions on today’s stream. Ouija, in his boxers, wants his Does to assume that the initials from the previous week’s stream belong to the pretty girl on his lap. Clad in sheer and lacy blue lingerie — the color of his room — one you had conveniently and boldly worn underneath your clothes on the day of your date with Yuuji.
Your heart is particularly stuck behind your throat. Afraid a single utter of a syllable will give you away. With your back pressed flush against his broad chest, you’re certain Mr. Ouija Dirty can feel your drums of heartbeats. But even with the boner growing and twitching on the fat of your ass, you’re surprisingly comfortable where you sit, albeit slightly nervous about later taking in the size of his cock. Live. In 2k resolution.
The chats fill up the monitor quicker and more aggressive than usual. How Ouija is able to keep up with them, you don’t know. He responds how he usually does to the ones that catch his eye, throwing a sweet and low chuckle every once in a while — chuckles that grumble on your back.
“Try to get comfy there, beautiful,” he tells you clear and crisp, loud enough for his viewers to hear. There. On top of his clothed cock. While he soothes your bare stomach, again, in 2k resolution.
You try to keep still, keeping your chest from heaving so Ouija’s Does don’t clock your nerves. They’ll eat you alive the minute they smell your fear. But then your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when you see the bubble on the top right corner on one of the monitors, a number that keeps growing by the second. The digits turning from 3 to 4 not even 5 minutes after he’d started his stream.
“Shit…” you mutter under your breath, interrupting Ouija’s chatter.
“Something wrong, my pretty Doe?” His hand that was on your stomach settles on your hips, a look of concern plasters his face, and his free hand brushes your hair to the side.
“I…” you crane your head, leaning closer and whispering to his ear so the mic doesn’t pick up your voice. “There’s over a thousand of them.” 1,300 to be exact.
He looks directly into your eyes. “Tell me, if you want to stop, we’ll stop,” his voice low, serious. He waits for you to speak, uncaring for the people in the chat.
“If I had known Ouija Dirty was actually this sweet ‘n considerate, I’d have jumped you from the first moment I met you.” Yuuji’s cock twitches and he tugs a stupidly adorable smile on his face.
“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” he whispers in your ear and peppers kisses on your jaw before reverting back to his irregularly scheduled programming.
…
“Sorry my Dirty Does. I only have eyes for one special Doe today.” Yuuji’s hand swipes across your laced slit, nails raking roughly whenever he reaches your clit. Your hole clenches tight, even harder when he pulls your underwear aside. Instinctively, your legs try close but Yuuji opens them with both hands, spreading you before his audience. He soothes your inner thigh as if to put you at ease. Finally you lose the tension in your legs. He presses a kiss on your neck, something out of his viewers’ sight and only meant for you at that moment. “Relax,” he coos on your neck as his hand reaches for your pussy.
“Mmff, yu—baby,” you whisper. Wincing after you nearly slipped. You look out for Yuuji’s reaction only for his hand to slip through your panties, warm between your legs, swiping at your leaky folds.
“You giving me away now?” Yuuji nips at your earlobe, his breath hot behind your ear. “Should we tell your friends how close we’ve gotten?” Of course he teases you now. It’s a dangerous game he plays, but it makes your insides twitch.
“Should we give them a shoutout? Do they know their friend makes pretty noises and likes to be touched… here.” He flicks your clit, making you jerk.
“Baby, please.” You’re at a loss at any other term for endearment. You didn’t think this through, or rather, he didn’t give you enough time to plot this out. What to call him. What to say. Where to touch. Instead, you’re navigating this together. Actually, he’s navigating sweet circles on your clit just fine like he’d always known the way around your pussy. “Fu-huuuck.” Your voice hitches when he picks up the pace and then slips a quick digit into your hole.
“It’s a courtesy really.” He licks a stripe along your neck. “After all, I have them to thank for my pretty Doe. I wonder if they’re watching.”
You wonder, too. Among the thousands watching Ouija play with your pussy behind sheer lace panties now stretched by his hand too far, it rides hot up your ass. You look at the screen once, you’re afraid to look again. You can’t catch up to the comments as easily as he can but you could’ve sworn you saw a couple of sweat emojis. “Baby, are they… enjo—”
“Enjoying you as much as I am, babe.” Yuuji rides off your term of endearment and lifts your bra, toying at a nipple between his fingers. His hand feels cold to the touch, but you suppose it’s also the air of a thousand pair of eyes on your bare tits. “My Dirty Does, doesn’t she look pretty? You’re so pretty with your tits out, baby.”
You tip your head back when Yuuji fucks you with a 2nd digit, thumb doing sloppy wonders on your clit. You’re so wet and hot, you nearly warn him not to go any faster. Not deeper. Not any harder. Or else he’d have a mess to clean up, but he does. He roughs at your gaping hole, a third digit reaching for your g-spot.
“W-wait, baby— fuuuuuuck! I’m sorry— fuck, I’m sorry!” You get lost in your climax, taking a few seconds to remind you of the audience before you while your nectar soils his hand, your underwear, and drips down to his boxers. “I’m so sor—”
Yuuji chuckles. And the sound of him licking his fingers clean snaps you out of your remorse. “Look, beautiful, they love you.”
From what you can tell, the comments are a mix of love-hate. A third of jealous Does in tears, a third calling you hot, and the rest telling Ouija to have you sit on his cock. Maybe it’s the first climax flying you on autopilot but both of you oblige, discarding your underwear. Bra thrown into the pile of soiled clothes, putting a hazy smile on Yuuji’s face at the sight of you fully naked.
For a brief moment you have your back turned to the audience and Yuuji takes that moment to put a tit in his mouth, like he’d been wanting to do so since you got here.
After a pop, you turn around and position your bare pussy on the red tip of his cock, big head teasing at your entrance.
“D ’worry, you can take it.”
You take a deep breath, and he sinks you down on his cock slow. As you hold your breath, your wet mess helps with the first half of the stretch. Breath out, you sink all the way in, insides thick with his girth.
“How ’s it feel, pretty girl?”
“S-so big. S-so good,” you breathe out. Eyebrows furrowing in pleasure at the mere fullness.
Yuuji kisses your cheek and moves your body gently, holding you by your hips. The slight friction makes you reach for your clit, rubbing circles only briefly before he swats your hand fast. You mouth some unintelligible curses, whining for him to give your clit attention.
“No hands, baby. I’m touching you tonight.” Yuuji replaces the hand on your clit with his, and he plays with you so much better than you ever thought was possible. Your hands grab onto anything for dear life, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his forearm.
Yuuji rests his forehead on your upper back, face still away from view but he has lowered his head for the first time in a stream. And it’s when he can’t help the way you’re moving around his cock. Your fingers lace through his hair, grabbing a fistful when he starts ramming you down to the base of his cock. Seems he doesn’t care that his audience now knows he has pink hair.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Yuuji cusses as he peppers kisses on your skin.
You’ve since lost all shame in front of Ouija Dirty’s regulars and have let yourself moan out loud. How you were able to hold it all in until now is a mystery. But any and all composure you’ve kept is no match for the fill of his cock and the sloppy calloused fingers on your clit.
“Fuck~ oh, fuck!” he very nearly sings as he finishes the same time as you, almost in the tune of the recording he sent you way back.
“So you do actually sound like that when you whimper, huh?”
“You got me. All for you, baby.”
The only problem Ouija Dirty has now is that he nearly forgets about his audience when he’s with you. You both realized he hasn’t paid attention to them at all in the time he had you speared on his cock.
…
Your friends tell you they still watch Ouija Dirty, but apparently he’s Ouija Dirty & Doe™ now. “You really sure you don’t want to watch? He got more entertaining when he started filming with his girl.”
“Nah, not for me,” you scoff.
“Fine. So, when do we meet this new guy of yours?”
“Who says you haven’t?”
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