Lillix

and it would have been with half as much amusement your partners cackled at your reactions with infuriating delight. 

the men who argued as if they were seconds away from drawing their guns on each other seemed to find common ground—and of course, it’s at your expense. the girlish giggles that erupt when your lips gape are nothing like the deep-toned gruffness that dipped their voices low whenever they snapped at each other. their back-and-forths in your shoebox-sized office resembled those of two temperamental bulls trapped in the same enclosure. both rearing their horns in a completely unnecessary show of strength, and neither willing to back down, even when the argument no longer made sense. 

you found yourself escaping to the break room more often than not, and suguru, ever the gentleman, or perhaps just the slyer of the two, would come over with a peace offering in the form of a cup of coffee.

you would have found the gesture sweet if it didn’t happen so very often.

coffee every other day, sometimes twice a day, was a little excessive, and you swore the caffeine rush was getting to you because you began to look forward to those few moments of quiet more and more each week.

he would sit next to you, somedays working on a file and others talking your ear off while you savoured every toasty drop. each cup he made tasted better than the last and it was surprising because you don’t recall telling him how you preferred it to begin with.

suguru was…tolerable, almost likeable but satoru gojo was another story.

between the less-than-subtle sexual innuendos and the sleazy pet names, you’re surprised you haven’t already turned in your badge number for an inmate number. and as if your morbid musings spur him on somehow, the man comes to your side and slings an arm over your shoulder. a muscle below your eye twitches when he leans down to whisper in your ear, soft lips grazing over the shell, “you should stay close, sugar. who knows what we’ll need to do to blend in?”

the question earns him an elbow to the ribs, and you smile at the loud “oof!” that follows.

“if it gets to that, i’d rather blow our cover, gojo.”

he pouts at your insistence on using his last name despite how many times he has told you otherwise, but it's how you got payback for all the terms of endearment he’d drawl your way as if they meant nothing. uh…not that you wanted them to mean something but—ugh whatever.

“that almost hurt as much as your freakishly sharp elbow.”

you almost chew him out but think better of it at the last second. there was a hitman to catch, so you couldn’t waste these precious moments bickering over trivial matters, especially when you finally had the suspects key identifiers after a year of investigating. 

the man you were after was said to be japanese and his late thirties. he had a muscular build and stood over six feet tall, with a noticeable scar on his face. true to his alias, he appeared and disappeared like a ghost and he boasted a 100% success rate, taking down all his targets with daunting precision and leaving no trace of evidence behind. that is until he got sloppy and let the man you took in for questioning live.

and that’s how you found out that he frequented this hellhole for a victory lap after each of his kills.

naturally, knowing so much about the infamous hitman had your belly flipping in anticipation of bringing him in, but that feeling was soon subdued when your partners thew a shopping bag onto your lap. one look inside nearly had you dropping the whole case.  

“we need to fit in.” they said.

bull.fucking.shit.

your simple pantsuits were swapped out for a pleated skirt that fit like a belt and a shirt with a neckline so low, it’s out of sheer luck you haven’t had a nip slip yet. your teeth clatter from the cold, and you start to regret elbowing satoru away so quickly.

he was really warm…you bet his hugs were to die for.

when your thoughts stray into unwanted territory, you turn your attention back to the search. your eyes burn a hole into the floor as pleasure-filled moans filter through the various rooms you walk past and you think a man starts to call out to you, but his words cut off into a croak mid-sentence, as if a hand snapped out and squeezed around his neck.

daring to look up, you find that his eyes aren't even on you. no, they’re focused above your head, filled with so much unease, you can't help but follow his line of sight. the glare satoru and suguru give him almost startles you too. their irises swirl, gazes melding into a deep blue-violet that emits a frostbite iciness and skin-searing heat all at once. when a hand touches the small of your back, you aren’t sure whose it is, but allow it to steer you away nonetheless.

the vip access card that satoru paid for—with suspicious familiarity—gave you free rein to roam wherever you wanted, so the three of you headed for the stairs. and stepping into the upper levels of the den feels like being pulled into a little pocket universe.

crystal chandeliers hang low from the ceiling. their shards tinkling against each other like wind chimes, and bulbs shimmering with a rich orange hue that warms your skin the slightest bit. sleek canopies suspend the domes, so polished they nearly gave the impression that they were silver, but you know they’d have to be steel to hold that much weight.

the lights make the pale walls look amber and being drawn in as if the very gem were being dangled before you, your feet carry you further inside. heels click over glossy marble floors and you take in the bespoke furniture scattered all around. the expensive kind with price tags that would’ve undoubtedly made you faint if you saw them.

definitely the kind of area a regular would lurk around.

you’re close. you know you are, and the prospect of finding the perp makes you stop hugging yourself like you’d catch something if you let go. suguru must see the opportunity too, because he stops walking and suggests splitting up to cover more ground, but satoru is already shaking his head before he finishes talking.

“there could be a killer in the building, and you want to split up? every horror movie starts that way, man.”

suguru’s lips twitch in the manner they always did before he lost his temper. before his words would lash out and strike like a whip. “then it’s a good thing we’re not in a movie. we can’t afford to stay here longer than necessary.”

they both had a point, but they were getting loud. too loud, and while you were fine with leaving them to it at the station, you showed a lot less leniency when they argued on the field. so, when they glance over, waiting for you to pick a side, your irritation must show on your face judging on how they quickly fall silent.

your glower lasts a second longer before you turn on your heel, and you amble closer to an area shielded by a white curtain. there’s a short pause before two sets of footfalls follow your path. satoru takes longer strides and gets to the opening first, holding the gossamer fabric open for you and smiling widely when you reluctantly thank him.

you have a feeling he doesn’t offer the same courtesy to suguru because he curses, and cool air brushes over your bare legs as the curtains are forcibly opened again.

inside the room, more drapes hang off the walls and cool-toned leds and ivy garlands branch over them like vines. marble flooring is swapped out for artificial grass that makes your footing a little wobbly as you walk further in. some people are sitting on the fluffy couches that line the wall. interactions varying from cordial conversation between strangers to heated kisses shared by lovers, and some people are doing a lot more than kissing.

when you realise the sight doesn’t leave you as scandalised as before, you want to hurry up and leave even more, because if a few minutes in this den could have you barely flinching at exhibitionism, who knows what else you may become desensitised to if you stayed longer? god forbid it became so bad you’d lean into the warm sets of hands that press to the small of your back, holding you steady when you stumbled. deep down, you know that the shiver that feathers over it has nothing to do with the cold.

the men’s touches last a moment longer before withdrawing to disperse and fan through the room to gather more intel.

satoru slides into a conversation with a small group sitting on the couch like he was part of them, and you shake your head when they easily make room for him to sit. suguru’s black-clad form blends into the shadowy corners of the room, stubbornly clinging to the walls as he listens for anything that may be valuable. and you are left to scrutinise the seas of people and check if anyone matches the description of the suspect. 

unfortunately, walking over the fake tufts of grass in the stilettos and trying to find him between the bodies pressed together in sex-crazed coils turns out to be a lot harder than you thought. it takes you a while to clear the room as safe but once you do, you come to a stop near a statue.

you ignored it when you came in because it was the only ugly part of the makeshift indoor garden. sure, it was well sculpted, showcasing the female form in its glory of curves and dips in all the right places, but it’s the expression on the woman’s face that throws you off. 

deep grooves are cut into the marble near its eyes, and its mouth is stretched wide in a scream. you think it's supposed to be one of pleasure, but she just looks terrified.

you lean in, squinting at it critically.

why were people so obsessed with seeing women in pain during sex? there’s no reason for such a beautiful piece to—

there’s a soft spitting sound from inside the statue’s mouth, and a second later, pink vapour explodes from it and sprays right onto your face. you splutter, backing up a few paces as the sweet-smelling fumes fill your nose.

yuck. you cough. what the hell was that?

rubbing your nose and exhaling sharply does nothing to expel the smell. if anything, the vapour only engulfs your senses more and leaves you a little dizzy.

feeling like you need a moment, you walk to the exit and shove the curtain out of the way. once, outside, you take long, deep breaths silently hoping no one witnessed that embarrassing moment. 

but, of course, you aren’t that lucky.

“muffin?” satoru calls behind you and you nearly laugh because that was a new one. he’s so ridiculous, “you okay? you ran out like your ass was on fire.”

oh, thank god he didn’t see everything, it makes you feel a little better because he would never let you live it down if he did. you only turn around when the sickly-sweet scent disperses.

“i’m fine,” you reply. ignoring the strange buzz of electricity that starts humming under your skin. “didn’t find anything. you?”

satoru shakes his head, then looks towards the door at the end of the hallway, “we can move to the next room so long.”

“where’s suguru?” looking for him through the sheer drapes is a hopeless endeavour, and satoru doesn't even try as he loops an arm around your shoulders to steer you away. “i thought you said we should stay together.”

he pulls the door open, “but we are staying together. sugu’s a big boy, he’ll be alright.”

your snort shocks you almost as much as it does him. it’s unfamiliar and hearty enough to leave him standing at the door even when you walk further into the room.  

oh.

it wasn’t just any room. it’s a bedroom. with a bed so wide it nearly touches the walls at either side and while it registers that there's no one in the room, and therefore, no reason to stay, your legs seem to have a mind of their own as they lead you to it.

the sheets are white and pristine, so clean they look brand new, and you breathe in the lavender-scented fabric softener with a pleased sigh.

ah, yes, this was much better than whatever you inhaled earlier.

you were freezing just minutes ago, but now liquid heat spreads all over your skin. it seeps under it, gliding south to spur low in your belly, then even further until it situates itself between your thighs.

the dramatic change must be what has the next words leaving your mouth.

“do you think people have orgies in here? at least ten people should be able to fit on this bed.” 

satoru stutters and ivory brows skyrocket, “you’re…asking me about orgies?”

when you nod, gojo does something you didn't know he was capable of. he doesn't speak. he just lets the door close behind him and takes you by the shoulders, looking over your face like he was trying to find something that wasn’t supposed to be here.

“something’s wrong. what’s going on with you?”

his hands are too warm. it feels like his palms burn your skin where he holds you, so you shrug them off.

“nothing.” a giggle blurts out, so he knows that’s not the truth.

“your pupils are dilated.” it takes some time for him to catch up, but once he does, cerulean eyes go round. his hands go to grip your shoulders again. this time, you lean closer to him instead of pulling away, and action only confirms his suspicions. “holy shit, you’re on something! please tell me you didn’t eat or drink while we weren’t looking.”

you shake your head, then, seeing that he already knows, you decide to come clean.

“i think it was the screaming lady.”

satoru looks at you like you just grew a second head, and his brain can’t keep up with the sudden change in perception, “the what?”

“the statue. it sprayed something.”

you want to say more but give up at the last moment. your clothes are too tight. they're making your skin itch. 

luckily, satoru nods in understanding.

“was it perfume or mist?”

you only shrug in response, then your hand lifts to fan your face. perspiration beads along your forehead, breathing a little too heavy.

“it’s hot in here.” you tug at your cropped tee with two fingers. “aren’t you hot? i…mean you’re obviously hot but—“

a snicker cuts you off, and satoru’s shoulders continue to shake even as he tries his hardest to hold his laughter in.

“oh, i’m never letting you forget you said that.”

you frown at him.

he never took you seriously, so you guess you’ll have to do something to force him to do so. fingers catch the hem of your shirt, and you see his jaw drop. he reaches out to stop you, but it’s too late.

“holy shit!”

you pull your shirt over your head, and satoru’s eyes follow the arc it makes as you throw it to the other side of the room. then slowly, almost hesitantly, his attention moves back to you.

being sans bra has his eyes landing on your bare tits, and you see his hands twitch at his sides.

“babe,” a nervous laugh follows, “i need you to put your shirt back on. right fucking now.”

you make no sign of listening, so with a wavering sigh, he takes a step in the direction of the discarded item—only to rush back to you when he sees your thumbs hook into the waistband of your skirt. as if it would be next to go.

this time, though, he does manage to stop you, and you groan out your displeasure.

“god,” a light flush settles over his pale cheeks, and he stares into your eyes a little too intensely. like he’s trying to keep himself from looking down at your tits again. “okay. why don’t you—uh—why don’t you sit down?” he lifts you and moves you towards the bed. “yeah, just stay put while i go call suguru.”

he sets you down, and sensing he’s about to pull away, your arms and legs wind around his form.

there’s a squeak of surprise a man with a voice as deep as his shouldn’t be able to make when you pull him into the bed with you. his back hits the mattress, and you think he curses again, but you don’t recognise the word so it has to be something in his mother tongue.

satoru’s hands come up to grasp your hips when you straddle him, and he whispers your name shakily. your actual name, not one of the terms of endearment you’ve reluctantly grown to love. you wonder if the sadness that settles over you is what he feels every time you use his last name, and not liking the idea, you decide to take a page out of his book.

“you're so pretty, toru,”

your lace panties are impossibly thin—and damp—so they do nothing to hide how his cock stirs under you.

“oh, i see what this is,” his eyes clench shut, wispy lashes fluttering, and his hands flex around your hips. “you’re trying to kill me.”

his laughter as he says that has a maniacal edge to it, and it has your nipples pebbling in need. reaching down for his hand and taking it off your body is a little difficult. it’s like he didn’t want to let go, but after prying it off your skin, you open his palm and lay it over your chest.

“’m not.”

his eyes flicker open when he feels soft skin under his hand, pupils blown so wide it looks like there’s a bottomless whirlpool within the seas of blue. your joined hands go to cover your breast and you swear his hips inch up a fraction.

and just when you can feel him beginning to crack, the door is pushed open. suguru stops dead in his tracks. eyes going blank as he takes in the scene before him.

“what,” he starts. voice completely flat. “the fuck?”

your skirt rides up your thighs, ass peeking out and when suguru’s amethyst eyes sweep over your half-naked body, your hips instinctively rock against the man pinned under you. the action emits something of a moan and a gasp. “she breathed in some kind of lust dust,” he explains, panicked. and suguru slams the door shut before stalking over.

“then why the hell do you have her on top of you?” sable brow furrow as he looks down at the man, and you could be wrong, but you think his eyes momentarily flicker to your bare thighs. “she’s clearly not in her right state of mind.”

“she’s on top of me!” satoru’s voice is shrill as he answers. “how is this my fault?” as if on cue, you squirm, hips shifting restlessly until you find the spot that has your eyes fluttering shut and finally, the ache in your cunt eases a little.

you’re not the only one affected by the change in friction because satoru shudders hard, pearly teeth baring in a soft hiss.  “can you stop mean-mugging me and help?” he asks, and suguru finally allows himself to look your way.

he tilts his head, your name coming out as a whispered question before his hands stretch, but he doesn’t touch you the way you'd hoped. suguru cups the undersides of your arms, and when you feel him start to lift you, you fully go off the rails.

in an act of sheer desperation, you lean forward and kiss him. not on the lips, not yet. you just rest your mouth against the corner of his, breathing in his woodsy scent and feeling how the muscles of his face work as he clenches his jaw.

“okay, so this is not helping.” satoru chokes out with his body quivering like a live wire between your legs.

you pull away from the dark—haired man, and his eyes are unnaturally dark when you look into them. he just stares at you, completely still and blinks few and far apart. 

“how long does it take to wear off?”

he asks satoru, who has been watching the exchange with his lower lip folded between his teeth.

“four to six hours,” he supplies after releasing his lip with a wet pop. your chest tightens. there was no way you could wait that long. “but…” satoru continues, and you perk up. “the hormone spike after an orgasm can get it out her system a lot faster.”

oh. you like that option a lot more, and when you say as much, suguru shakes his head. “you’re not sober, sweetheart.”

maybe. but you weren’t blackout drunk either. the mist only heightened what was already there. made your body more sensitive and lips looser.

“i would’ve chased both of you out and taken care of it myself if i didn’t want you here.”

suguru’s brows pitch, and satoru hums as if agreeing with you. 

but a sickly feeling begins to creep in at their hesitance. it’s possible that they just aren’t interested. and while it stings, you can’t be mad at them for not being attracted to you. not to mention you were all literally on the clock. the gun for hire could be lurking anywhere.

there was no time for this.

your hands tremble where they lie on satoru’s broad chest, and when you slowly lift them, he grips your hips a little harder. as if he knows what you were thinking, he shakes his head at you, wordlessly trying to dispel those thoughts with the simple gesture.

“baby,” you nearly smile, but the look in his eyes makes you hesitate. satoru has a habit of going from grave seriousness to wild playfulness at the drop of a hat. and now, he wears the former and tips his head at you.  

it has your heart racing in your chest. erratic and slow all at once, thumping in time with the pulsing in your core. your mouth feels dry, and even when your tongue swipes over your lips, it doesn’t help. only one thing would, and satoru seems to know it too.

“do you want to wait it out, or do you want me to help you?”

your lips part—

“we’ll help.” your head swings to suguru, and you startle to find him already watching you. “if that’s what you choose.”

we as in both? at the same time?

well, it was easy to guess which option you’re picking. it was a no-brainer.

you’re spoiled for choice. 

on the one hand, there’s suguru: sweet and attentive as he positions himself behind you with his strong legs on either side of satoru’s. he peppers gentle kisses over the column of your neck, hovering over the patch of skin where your pulse jumps and letting his tongue roll over it. the open-mouthed kiss earns a soft moan from you that quickly descends into a squeal when satoru digs his nails into the soft flesh of your ass. 

you’re still straddling him, but he isn't being as bashful as he was minutes ago. 

whereas suguru leaves featherlight touches over your tits and drags his hands across your navel, satoru’s hands are hurried, almost rough as he squeezes your rear and forces you to grind onto his clothed cock harder. 

he does this even though your hips desperately rock against him, and thrusts in time to meet your movements. frantic, he folds your skirt up so he can see your panties, only to croon at the sight of the mess you’re leaving all over his pants. 

“pretty fucking girl.” he huffs, rolling his hips hard enough to make you lose your balance, but suguru is there to steady you again. “yeah, baby just like that. rub that greedy pussy on me and make yourself cum.” 

blood roars in your ears, heart thrashing painfully in your chest and as if the man behind you can sense it, he lays a hand over it almost soothingly. 

ah, suguru was so sweet.

that same hand slithers up to wrap around your neck and tug your head towards him for a hungry kiss. suguru puts pressure on the sides, and when your jaw drops open on a breathless gasp, his tongue plunges into your mouth. 

shit, never mind.

from his breathless groan, you know satoru is watching the two of you kiss again…he seems to like doing that.

you’ll admit that you're a little shocked by the seamless precision with which the men work to bring your body to the edge. there’s no jealousy or possessiveness behind their caresses, and even when they get carried away—hands brushing together, they carry on as if nothing happened. you almost get the impression they've done this before, and it has jealousy pricking goosebumps over your skin. 

you try to shake it off by reminding yourself that these men hated each other, and focusing on that was much better than imagining how many women got the pleasure of experiencing this before you. 

but as it were, the emotion never really leaves. 

it just twines itself with everything else churning low in your belly. dizzying pleasure and the hot zip of pressure caused by the aphrodisiac. your head lolls forward, and even when suguru eases his hold, a strangled croak still escapes. 

sensation explodes so suddenly that it has you crying out, and suguru slants his mouth over yours harder. he steals all the sounds you make and fervently licks at the mess of drool that coats your bottom lip like it’s the best thing he has ever tasted.

satoru pulls you harder onto his length with a sadistic chuckle when you whine from overstimulation and he keeps you pressed to him even as your body stops gyrating, falling slack when the heat that flooded over your skin finally bleeds away. both men’s bodies brim with wild tension while you come down from your high and knowing that the fumes are out of your system now, they start pulling away.  

“more.” your mouth demands before your brain can catch up. 

you can't even use being dosed as an excuse anymore. this was just who you were. and thank fuck, they don't make you feel bad for it.

you’re rolled onto the mattress, and you nearly melt into it when satoru sits up to take your heels off, and suguru pulls your skirt and panties down your legs. the hunger in their eyes once you’re completely naked sends a flush warm your cheeks, and it only worsens when they start undressing too.

you get an eyeful of their skin. tan and pale velvety expanses that span over thick cords of muscle as far as the eye can see. even so, you try your best to take in as many as you can, from thick beefy biceps to washboard abs and rippling pectorals that quiver with each heavy breath they take. 

you’re glad they didn’t get undressed earlier because when your gaze travels south and lands on their hard cocks, you know you would’ve fainted if you saw them like this while the fumes were still in your system. 

they approach at the same time, both settling between your legs, and you think their brief truce is over when you see them exchange irritated frowns. 

“i’m going first.” satoru clarifies, and his roughened palms grip your skin like he's going to pull you away. it’s hard enough to hurt, so you aren’t sure why your thighs get wetter with slick that pools from your fluttering cunt. 

“how about you let her decide?” suguru challenges with a mean smirk that makes him more handsome somehow. 

something was wrong with you.

glittering amethyst eyes flicker your way, and the pad of his finger draws a line along the underside of your knee, while satoru plants a wet kiss on your inner thigh, eyelashes batting as he peers up at you.

how could they expect you to summon enough mental energy to choose who you wanted first? you were already struggling to remember how to breathe! 

“i’m going to say neither of you if you keep arguing.” that was a lie. you know nothing could pry you off this bed, but satoru takes the bait.

with a growl, he bridges the distance and puts his mouth on you. your back bows with a soft gasp escaping from your parted lips. your mouth hangs open in a soundless scream when he latches his pinkish lips around your clit, feverishly suctioning it into his mouth. your surprised moan echoes off the walls of the bedroom when teeth graze over the sensitive skin.

the heel of your foot digs into the muscles of his toned back, trying to pull him closer, but suguru shoulders him away and takes his place. his hand moves to palm your ass, hauling you closer before spearing his thick tongue inside of you. 

“oh fuck—don’t stop,” your tits bounce with the shudder that racks through you when he pushes deeper into your hole, and the reaction elicits a groan from the other man. 

never known for his patience, satoru lowers between your thighs again, and since suguru isn’t willing to back up either, their hands push your legs apart before they both start lapping your cunt.

you’re a blabbering mess and completely soaked, that each each flick of their tongues resounds with a wet squelch. you try to say their names but end up slurring instead. your body shakes, and as your mind drifts back to the woman you saw getting eaten out what felt like hours ago, you feel bad for thinking her moans were fake. because yours was ten times louder now. 

your fingers twist into both men’s hair. getting lost in black and white tresses so you can guide them right where you want. 

saliva and arousal mix to make an obscene meld and no matter how much they licked, slurped and sucked at the stringy rivulets, more drooled in their place. you look down to see their tongues thumping over your clit, and your breath catches when you see the pinkish flesh smack together before swirling in a sodden tangle. it’s like in their efforts to one-up each other, they didn’t even realise they’re practically kissing over your cunt.

or maybe they do, and they just don’t care.

you can’t say the same, though. your hands act on their own accord, perverted little devils that tilt satoru and suguru’s heads towards each other by their hair, and they kiss without skipping a beat.

it's a hot, open-mouthed clash of teeth and lips that has them smearing the mess of your juices over each other's chins and mouths while swallowing each other’s pleasured groans. 

“i’m gonna—" fingers promptly slide into you, you don’t even know whose, only that they shove you headfirst into an orgasm that darkens the corners of your vision and has your body convulsing.

they pull away from each other and satoru turns to you first. his mouth hikes up into a small smirk at the fucked out look you’re sporting. 

“don’t tell me you’re too tired to keep going, sweets?” he asks, standing up, and your eyes track down to his cock. seeing where your attention his, he gives it two hard pumps, somehow making it harder and bigger than before. “guess not,” a wet kiss is pressed to your mouth and he whispers against it. “where do you want it?”

lips parting, you let your tongue hang out, and satoru makes a choked noise in the back of his throat.

he repositions you, angling your head at the edge of the bed and tapping his flushed tip against your tongue. creamy saltiness dribbles onto it, and wanting to taste even more, you push forward and wrap your lips around him.  

the sound he makes is new. a blend between a hiccup and a whimper that has your jaw opening wider and your legs follow the action, parting in silent encouragement that suguru latches onto. 

his cock nudges between slippery folds, then he slowly pushes into you. 

“so,” suguru bottoms out, eyes pinching when he feels you struggling to adjust to his girth, “fucking” fingers tease over your fluttering clit, rolling the hood of skin up to expose a pearly bud, “beautiful.” 

there's an almost innocent reverence in the words, but it's quickly dirtied when he parts his lips and lets a fat blob of spit splatter onto the sensitive flesh. slick pools around his length in a messy white ring, and unable to help himself, his hips snap into you with a shallow thrust. you moan, or try to because satoru takes the opportunity to shove himself deeper into your mouth. 

“fuuuck—take it,” he grunts when the spongy tip hits the back of your throat, and a soft gag echoes. you breathe through your nose and swallow around him to draw out one of those high-pitched whimpers that have your pussy clenching.

“so good,” suguru’s thrust becomes less experimental, and he grips your thighs, pulling you to meet each drunken snap of his hips and rubbing his fingers over your clit harder when it pulses rather pathetically.

satoru’s eyes blaze as they follow the length of your naked body, then they settle between your legs and his lips pull into a feral smile. he stares at how hard you quiver as cock disappears between slick folds and hums. 

“you gonna cum, baby?” you moan around him in answer. nonsensical gabbles that vibrate around his cock as he drives his hips forward. his pelvis touches your chin, and he watches with rapt intensity as a bulge protrudes with each thrust. it has his balls drawing up and nastily slapping against your face. 

suguru paws at your tits, thumbs meanly rubbing over your nipples. “let it out, sweetheart. don’t hold back.”

oh, you weren’t planning to.

and when satoru’s hand closes around your throat, palm gently pressing to the bulge in it, you obey and cum with a strangled scream.

both men push themselves to the hilt, hips shuddering and hands gripping your body so hard, you know it's going to be littered with bruises in a few hours. their cum spills into your mouth and pussy in thick pulses. it's almost too much, but you take every drop and keep yourself still in case there’s more.  

shivers rack through you even after they pull back, and their hands turn gentle to stroke your skin and pepper soft kisses over all the spots that feel a little tender.

praises are whispered into your ears as both man lay beside you on the bed, holding you in their arms and, little by little, you start to settle back into your body.

just when you feel the tendrils of delirium leave you, satoru speaks up, “we’re doing that again tomorrow.”

you snort out a laugh, and even suguru’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle.

“why are you guys laughing? i’m not joking!” 

the white-haired man insists, and suguru pushes his arm off you. 

“shut up, man.” 

*

*

*

untangling from the cage of limbs you wrapped yourselves in was no easy feat, but when the haze of lust dissipates, you force the men to get up. a quick sweep of the rest of the rooms at the pleasure den proves fruitless in locating the suspect, so you decide to head out and return another time.

the men walk ahead of you, arguing about god knows what, while your heels have you trailing many feet behind them. 

you're too busy contemplating taking them off, not paying attention to where you’re going, that your breath sharply escapes when you collide with a hard chest. your eyes close, bracing for impact when you’re knocked off balance, only to be steadied by a strong pair of hands. you sigh out a grateful huff and straighten in your heels.

these death traps had to be bought by satoru. you were sure of it.

“i’m so sorry,” you voice when you remember the person you bumped into. you almost ate shit while they barely moved. it was like walking into a wall. a well-built, muscular wall.

your eyes track up to the person’s face, mouth opening to give them your thanks…then you falter when you land on their face.

“you good?” the man asks, and his eyes trap you in their mossy green tresses. they’re shielded by dark hair that does nothing to hide their critical gleam as he watches you, and your heart comes to a stop in your chest. dread and excitement prick at your skin, threatening to sink their claws into you and tear you apart. and theses feelings only fill to the brink and bubble over when you see the scar on his lip.

as if this day couldn’t get better, it seems you’ve just found your suspect.

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