🔞 why did you choose me? 🔞

You breathe out shakily as you hike your leg up higher over his waist; when not presented with interruption or obligation, the sweet tracing and kissing and fawning of these kinds of mornings always becomes squirming and writhing and grinding—only until you’re fed up, tossing the blankets back, and shoving his sleep shorts down the same way he does yours so you can dip the head of his hardening cock into your wetness. 

Suo hisses, fingertips finding the fat of your ass. “D’you wake up this wet for me?” 

You would snort, but what comes out is a hitched breath as you land a noncommittal slap to his chest and roll your hips, letting yourself sink onto him. The filthy, sticky noises your contact creates already makes you desperate; you steady your breathing as you feel him stretch you. “When’s the last time I didn’t?” 

Suo sighs headily, letting your rocking hips do the work. When his head falls back—content to close his eyes and just feel as you fuck yourself on him slowly, gently, but needily—you toss an arm around his middle and burrow in the crook of his neck to muffle your groans with sloppy kisses. One of his arms links behind your back, traces your spine; the other works you up and down, guiding you in your rhythm, squeezing your ass cheek each time your dripping cunt clenches around him. 

This is everything, you think. You think, you can’t wait until you marry him, move in together—and this can be your every morning, not just some mornings. This is all you want: Suo, his quickening heartbeat in your ear, the low groans from his chest while you ride him slow, pressed into his jawline. It’s perfect. 

And then your door slams open. 

“Get your ass u—oh, shit.”

You don’t even spare the bedheaded Ren Kaji in your doorway a glance. Almost reflexively, your palm comes to smack over your eyes (clipping Hayato in the process—who just laughs tiredly, like the psychopath he is; you feel his fingers dig deeper into your hip as you bury your face in the pillow beneath you both). 

Okay, it’s objectively your fault for not locking the door, and even further in Kaji’s defense, in the five years you’ve known each other, your boyfriend’s never been in your room when he busts your door down in the early afternoon to drag you out of bed for Tachibana’s omurice as a hangover cure. Your best friend’s never really been the type to knock anyway, and you know this. 

Your grinding stops abruptly; when you prop your elbow on Suo’s chest to look back, Kaji’s nestled in his own elbow, leaning on your doorframe in distress. Sakura stands behind him, hands completely over his face—which you know is beet red right now—while he mutters Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ over and over. 

“Sorry, just—get out,” you snap, scrambling to pull the blanket up over where Suo’s literally buried inside you; not that either of them will be able to erase this image from their minds any time soon, you think, but the mood’s been killed and you figure you might as well try to reinstate some semblance of modesty before Kaji and Sakura both keel over and die of embarrassment.

But neither of them move, seeming to be turned to stone like they’ve seen the Medusa; you opt to flop back into the pillow face-first and lament the normalcy you now realize you’ve always taken for granted between you and your friends. You figure you can kiss it goodbye for the next few days, maybe a week at most, before Kaji can finally look you in the eye again; for Sakura, you figure it could take more like a month. 

“Or you could come in,” Suo suggests casually. Joking, of course. The grin is evident in his voice; still, you snap your head up to look at him like his hair’s caught on fire. You swear you could rip off that stupid medical eyepatch he sleeps in and throw it at him. 

What you miss as you glare sharply at Suo is Sakura peeking through his fingers and Kaji lifting his head to exchange a long look with him; you furrow your brow, and Suo raises his—a silent speak now or forever hold your peace before he makes it clear he wasn’t joking if they do actually want to enter the room. It’s always Schrödinger’s flirt with Suo; I mean it if you do, but if you don’t, then of course I’m only kidding. Always something hidden below the surface of what he says. 

Silence settles uncomfortably as you weigh your options. Option one involves Kaji and Sakura leaving your doorway, scarred for life with an image that will probably make things incredibly, eternally awkward between all four of you (well, more like three of you—you’re pretty sure Suo doesn’t have a functioning mechanism for shame in his brain) and you having to leave your quarters grumpy, horny, and unsatisfied. Option two includes Kaji and Sakura indeed coming into your room—where you’re presently fucking your boyfriend—and watching, joining, or doing something otherwise out of the ordinary that will, again, probably make things incredibly, eternally awkward between everyone with a shred of sanity in this situation. 

But as you hold Suo’s unassuming smile in your vision, you think twice. 

It could also be really hot. And you really don’t feel like not getting dicked down right now. He’s throbbing inside you and it’s taking all your strength not to pick your lazy pace back up, toss a middle finger to your two friends regardless of what they decide to do, and get yourself off. 

Anyway, you’d be lying if you tried to deny that your best friend is attractive. Kaji’s always been handsome, since back when you were at Furin together a grade above your two sweethearts—and you’re pretty sure Suo crushed on Sakura briefly in your high school days, too. Plus, it’s not like Sakura isn’t charming on his own account. You know, in his perpetually freaked-out, flustered, angry kitten kind of way. 

Getting the words out feels like pulling gum out of your hair. You hold it in your mouth like a stone, turning it over once, twice, three times, before you open your dry mouth to say it. 

You really hope you don’t regret this. 

“Yeah, come in.” You narrow your eyes, never breaking eye contact with Suo. A silent if this goes south, I’m blaming you. You’ve mastered translating his cryptic words and jabbing them right back at him, after all. “If you want.” 

You hear shuffling behind you—like they were waiting for your permission—and suddenly, there’s two flushed boys standing shoulder to shoulder at the foot of your bed, gaze anywhere but on you or Suo or each other; Sakura’s palm covers the lower half of his face, and Kaji’s fidgeting with his own fingers like they’re going to fall off at any second. 

And in the quiet of observing them, you burst out laughing. Sakura shakes his head like he’s lost all faith in everything, himself included. 

Kaji shoots you a glare, but you’re rising to your knees (Suo slides out of you with a lewd pop!) to twist back and grab his wrist, tugging him up onto the unoccupied side of the bed; refusing to be taken alone, he reaches back, too, and drags Sakura around the side to sit him down at the edge, yanking him this way and that until he’s on his back with the blond between his legs, arms crossed over his chest, huffing and puffing about how nasty this is and how you two are obviously huge, disgusting freaks. 

You think it’s cute how Sakura betrays his own words when his hips pitch upward unconsciously as Kaji wraps large, strong hands around his thighs, pressing their bulges together—and of course, Suo, ever the diplomat, is quick to ease his friend’s complaints and concerns. 

“You can always get up and go,” Suo basically singsongs. What’s hidden is but something tells me you won’t; you know Sakura and Kaji pick up on it this time, too. 

Indeed, he doesn’t move. He just looks up at Kaji with a softness behind his scowl—a softness that’s long been reserved for the blond—as if confirming it’s alright with him; it’s uncharacteristic to see Sakura asking for someone’s permission. At the same time, your heart skips a beat for both of them. That’s cute. 

Kaji’s eyes are firm, and so he turns to you, finally, to find you biting your lip expectantly. 

You shrug a little as your hips start swirling again; you really want Suo’s cock back inside you, and as soon as Kaji’s fingers are flying impatiently to Sakura’s waistband, you get back to the prettiest one of them all, beneath you—oh, if Suo had a tail, it’d be wagging. He looks like a dog about to get a treat, and before you can realign him where you want him most, he’s flipping you under him in one smooth movement. 

Plush mattress hits your back; your shoulder bumps Sakura’s. 

“So sweet of you both to get all worked up just from catching us.” Your lover puts back on that easy, airy tone that usually slips away when it’s just you and him; teasing’s his game, and he’s going to play it with everyone. His fingers tilt your chin up to him as he asks you, “Think they want a show, sweetheart?” 

“You suck,” Sakura spits before you can answer; nonetheless, his hands fumble with Kaji’s pants now, albeit clumsily. You try not to stare at both of their cocks as they spring up against each other—both big, thick, hardening quickly; Sakura’s tip is just as blushy as his face, and as Suo follows your gaze to it, your lips and his twitch up in twin smiles. 

“We’ll enjoy watching, too.” Suo’s easygoing as he runs his fingertips from your shoulder, down the bend of your knee, back up across your stomach, like this doesn’t faze him one bit. “Right?” 

He curls down over your body to press a burning kiss to the side of your neck before he whispers in your ear loud enough for them to hear. Soft, reddish-brown hair curtains over your face. 

“You wanna watch them fuck while I fuck you? Hm?” 

Suo’s always had a filthy mouth. It still gets you going, but you’re used to it enough; what you’re not used to is him doing it in front of other people—your friends—and it sets off an unfamiliar kind of electricity in your belly that has you clawing at his shoulders. But he’s pulling back away from you, and you’re whining. 

“Haya,” you whimper. 

His brow shoots up innocently, like Sakura’s hand isn’t curling into the sheets next to yours; Kaji’s at work lining his jaw with rough bites, both of them bare from the waist down and wriggling. It’s so sexy to watch; Sakura’s so crimson you think he might burst into flames. 

Just when Kaji lifts up to drop a hand between Sakura’s legs, Suo catches his wrist. 

“Wait.” 

If looks could kill, the look Kaji and Sakura send your lover would’ve struck him dead instantly. You know something’s coming next; Suo’s always plotting some way to play mind games with you, and usually you can read him, but he’s got two new toys at his disposal, and you find your gaze falling to the two cocks of your friends pressed together, straining, leaking. You salivate. 

“Make them beg for it,” Suo says—meaning you—like he’s requesting someone pass him the salt. 

You watch the irritation on your best friend’s face morph into shock. His eyes lock onto you, licking your lips and grasping half-heartedly at your boyfriend, and you watch the shock become conspiracy—and the conspiracy become something downright evil. 

Ren’s not above teasing you, either. You know this. 

“Yeah. Right,” Kaji huffs, grinning as he frees himself from Suo’s hold to poke you in the side. You kick at him unceremoniously, but mostly end up knocking your knee into Sakura’s, which earns you a gruff watch it! “Beg me.” 

You know, also, that the new rules of this arising game mean Suo won’t touch you or fuck you, either—not until you’re doing as Kaji tells you. As this knowledge settles, you look up at Kaji like you can’t believe him. You can’t believe he would betray you like this—take Suo’s side over yours, for a laugh, to make you squirm. 

But his steely blue eyes are unwavering. 

“Beg me to touch him,” he continues. “Beg me to fuck Haru so you can get off to it.” 

Suo would never tell you, but he adores the helpless look on your face. He’s always talking about breaking you, about ruining you, but he might’ve just accidentally stumbled upon the thing that’ll help him do exactly that: your best friend, who doesn’t go any easier on you than your lover does. 

You glance over to see how Sakura’s faring. Judging from the annoyance still fresh on his face, along with that trademark blush, you can guess he’s not much happier than you are about not being touched yet on top of being put through this humiliation ritual; when his dagger-like stare shoots over to you, you can basically hear him telling you to get on with it. He wants it worse than you do. The gloss over that mean gaze gives him away. 

And you want it bad. You kind of hate that you have to be the one to stand down for both of you, but you’re clenching around nothing, feeling so unbearably empty, with Suo’s cock right there, so close to where you need it; the rapid rise and fall of Sakura’s breath—or maybe that’s yours—fills you with anxiety.

“Please,” you squeak out, voice getting caught. “Please, Ren.” 

“Please, Ren, what?” he goads you; you don’t look over to see it, but Suo appears very pleased at how easily Kaji slips into this role. As they wait for you to continue, fingers push your shirt up; Sakura rids himself of his own shirt, and Kaji rubs a slow, intentional path up the plane of his abs to a nipple, which he tweaks, still searing into you. 

“Please, Ren, touch Haru, please.” It all falls out in one breath. You anticipate what follows this, so on the inhale, you finish, “Touch his cock and stretch him out f’me, please?” 

Your immediate reward is Suo’s thumb on your puffy clit; you gasp, your legs twitch—the far one, Suo tosses over his shoulder at your ankle. “Good. Wasn’t so hard, yeah?” 

“Mm-mm,” you agree, shaking your head, almost shivering for it. You’re lying. It wasn’t anywhere near the easiest thing in the world, between these three, but you’ve got some leverage, acting like this, if it means Suo’s fingers on you and Kaji’s on Sakura—you relish that, take it in stride—you know Suo will be proud of you for doing so, and you’ll get what you want sooner; his slow circles are torturous, but relieving enough in combination with the visual of Kaji dipping two fingers into Sakura’s mouth and wetting them before they traverse back down his body to tease his balls, trace the rim of his ass. 

The sound that leaves Sakura’s mouth is nothing short of adorable—restrained cry, choked breath. The string of spit that then drops from Kaji’s mouth onto the shaft of the other boy’s dick is hypnotizing. You only remember Suo’s touching you when his fingers prod at your hole, forcing your eyes back to him—his coy smile, his heavy-lidded single eye. 

“Don’t forget about me,” he muses. “That’s rude.” 

“No, baby,” you croon. You try not to pout in return; with both of them ganged up on you, you know you need to behave. Sakura needs it, too, if the way he tenses up and paws at his lover’s wrists is anything to go off of. ”Want you.” 

“Gotta beg him, too, cutie,” Kaji tells you, working a finger up to the first knuckle in Sakura’s ass; you don’t remember who put them both in charge, but you’re not thinking about it for long once you feel Suo’s cockhead replace his thumb—sliding up, down between your soaked folds, those dirty, creamy noises that had your middle in knots earlier finding your ears again. 

“Please,” Sakura chokes out abruptly, beating you to it, to your surprise—you’re unsure if he’s begging Kaji, or begging you to beg. “Please, just fucking—”

“Want you so bad, Haya,” comes your cracked voice, overlapping. You arch your back up into him, but Suo maneuvers himself away with discipline. “Please, put it—put it back in, please. Wan’ you to fuck me.” 

“You should wait ‘til Haruka’s ready,” Suo hums, drooling pre-cum onto your cunt. You both admire and loathe his knack for constraint when it comes to pushing you to your wits end in bed; his desperation for you is ever-present but never obvious, and he uses it to make you feel even needier. “Don’t wanna be unfair.” 

“I think we gotta hear ‘em both,” Kaji concludes. In your peripheral, you see Sakura’s jaw fall open; the full-bodied moan he lets out tells you he’s going to break just as quick as you. Good, you think. You’re better off for it. 

“Ren,” Sakura gasps. “Fuckin‘—shit. Please.” 

“Use those words, babe.” Kaji’s free hand sketches across Sakura’s hips, across his happy trail, avoiding his cock pointedly; you and Sakura are passing the antsiness back and forth between you, and now that you have your turn with it, it feels painful. You’re in a limbo, panting like an animal, eyes watering in a way that has Suo unable to tear his gaze away from you. He loves your tears. He wants to see more, but you want it to be from him fucking you hard. 

“Just—fuck.” 

“Haru,” you whine petulantly. You can’t wait for him. 

Your vision’s blurry through the lust-thickened air when your hands start to wander before your brain can stop them; one, downward, to Suo—slick and messy with your arousal, straining at the moment of contact. 

The other, across Sakura’s hip to coil around his cock. 

You knock another string of curses from his chest when you squeeze; two-toned eyes roll back, and you stroke attentively, with both hands. 

”Fuck, that’s hot,” you hear Kaji mutter; he supplies you with another glob of spit and you grin, open-mouthed, gaining traction back—you’re going to steer this in your direction, and fast. The quick jerking of your wrist has pleas falling from Sakura’s mouth like flower petals—exactly what you want to hear, whether they’re for you or not. 

“Fuck, Ren, just fuck me—please, pleasepleaseplease—” 

Sakura’s hips undulate with each thrust of Kaji’s fingers—bucking up into your hand, mouth moving faster than he can control it; he begs and begs and it sounds so pretty—that rough, low voice of his soaring up as he drones out appeals that sound more like impatient prayer. 

“You can take it?” Kaji’s cocky, but ardent, insistent he tells him the truth. You’re not sure if you can handle anything other than a resounding yes. 

“I can take it, I can take it, I can take it—please,” he rasps, eyes screwed shut. “Fuckin’—please, Ren, need it—need it in me.” 

“Good fuckin’ boy,” Kaji growls, withdrawing his fingers. 

You pan back to Suo. His grin is wicked. You must look destroyed. You feel like it. 

“Poor baby.” No good boy for you. He wipes the tear that escapes from the corner of your eye down your temple with mock sympathy. “Alright, alright, you’ve been good, too. Open up for me, sweetheart.” 

Almost perfectly in tandem, Kaji presses into Sakura as Suo pushes into you; you’re certain you and Sakura are a sight to behold as you’re both filled up, fucked out of your minds already, but you nevermind how you look when you tune into how you all sound—wet, sloppy, all uneven impact of pelvis into ass, harsh breath, rough groans, false consolation from the mouths of your two lovers as they pound you deep. You don’t let up on Sakura’s cock, determined to keep him crying and pliant; you don’t expect him to reach over you to return the favor, to swipe at your clit with tight, frantic loops, but he does—all too put together for how Kaji plows him to the point of breathlessness, and you follow him there, moaning long and choppy as you sink fully into the bliss radiating throughout your body from your aching core. 

“Cunt’s so tight for me,” Suo breathes, hands full of your thighs, landing smacks to your skin with his otherwise delicate palms that have you yelping and chanting his name. 

“This pretty ass’s so tight for me, too,” Kaji agrees through ragged, concentrated heaves of air. 

“Good little pets we have, huh?” Suo brushes a tentative hand across Sakura’s shin; catching Kaji’s possessed stare as he turns sideways, your eyes fly open just in time to watch your boyfriend lean in, jaw tense, to capture your best friend in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and the congratulatory arrogance they split evenly in having you and Sakura broken beneath them like this. 

Fucking you still, they bite at each other wantonly; beside you, Sakura’s voice heightens a decibel as Kaji’s thrusts grow more unforgiving. Suo’s bottom lip is caught between Kaji’s teeth for a brief second before the passion surges and their lips meet again, careless and decadent, fiery and intimate. 

The open-mouthed smirk Suo sends you almost throws you over the edge; you’re flickering like a faulty radio through channels of ecstasy and agony and exertion as your boyfriend’s temple rests against your best friend’s, momentarily, as they pant hotly and peer down at you cloudily; it’s like Kaji can feel the way you clamp down on Suo through him, with the way he looks at you, all proud and smug. 

Sakura’s lost. He reaches for Kaji’s hands; they intertwine effortlessly as his cock jumps at the scene in front of him, surrounding him, inside of him; the snowy half of him is bisected when his head lolls to look at you, gone off the absurdity of it all, and it’s only now when you realize you’ve forgotten to keep touching each other—but it doesn’t matter, because you’re clamoring to clutch Sakura’s chin and arching to make your way to his lips where you recreate, action-for-action, breath-for-breath, the kiss your lovers just shared. Sakura goes limp into you as his tongue finds yours, hot and weak, both of you jostling against the headboard, both of you swallowing each other’s moans as you get split open. 

“Fuck, look at that—” Suo’s on the verge of breaking; you recognize it in his voice. “Filthy.” 

“Good lil’ sluts, gonna cum?” Kaji barks, gasping shallowly. You reach for Sakura’s cock again, and he fumbles for your throbbing clit. “Fuckin’ fallin’ apart like whores on these cocks. So good for us.” 

“S-so good for us.” It might be the only time in either of their lives they hear Hayato Suo stutter—but when when you pull back short of breath from Sakura’s mouth, his eyes are falling shut in sheer rapture; he won’t remember hearing it anyway, you think, grinning dazedly to yourself as you shift one last time to study your boyfriend as he falls apart. 

But Suo grips your chin harshly and turns you. “Look at them. They’re lettin’ you watch, sweetheart.” 

“Said you wanted to get off to us—you better watch,” Kaji warns you, eyes wild. 

So you do. You watch Ren’s blond locks sway, a few strands sweaty, a few strays out of place; his pretty neck tenses as he swallows hard, dropping down to an elbow to batter into Sakura’s g-spot even more brutally. Sakura’s groans come from his diaphragm, potent and adrift as he wraps his arms around Kaji’s shoulders, pulling him down to his chest; they whimper things to each other you can’t make out, but they look so in love, they look so debauched—it has you fluttering, has you tightening, keeps you walking the thinning line between the stage you’re in now and the state Suo’s taking you to. Your lover’s thumb finds your clit again as he fucks you, and you watch, you do, not because you’re supposed to but because you want to—until Suo’s cruelly yanking your chin toward him once more. 

He wants your eyes back on him now, so that ruthless hand trails down, braces on your throat, as his relentless hips thrash you toward your peak. “Watch me now,” he puffs  “Watch me make you cum, baby.” 

This is your favorite Suo: possessive, a little mean, out of control for you and you only—and you let your unspoken yes appear as nail marks in his wrist as he chokes you into the bed, intoxicated and exhilarated as you feel Sakura’s sticky cum spilling in pathetically large dollops down your fingers. 

You follow right after. Toes pointed, tummy wound tight, back arching and curling, humping away as all the air and thoughts leave your brain with the crushing climax that rips through you—you’re croaking out Hayato or thank you or love you or something saccharine that you know will make its way to your lover even if you can’t fully register it; you see white, you see black, you see nothing—your jaw is wired open in a scream you can’t hear, and the convulsions replace heaven with something much more sinister but equally as satisfying, long, rhythmic, orgasmic voices coming in distantly—Suo’s cumming, too, pulling out to spill all over you stomach and snap you back to reality where Kaji finishes last, inside Sakura, grunting deeply, cumming hard. 

The pressure on your neck fades away. When you blink a few times to regard the angel above you, it’s just that—kind-faced Hayato, who loves you so much, looking at you like you just won him a million dollars. His hand, his fingers, so gentle now, hold the side of your face as you come back to earth. 

“Hey, there, sweetheart,” he coos as you flex your fingers, flex your legs; he lets the one on his shoulder down to stretch it away from you, your sigh getting stuck in your throat at the stiffness. God, you’re definitely going to be hurting for the rest of the day. Nonetheless, you giggle happily, sleepily. 

“Hi, Haya,” you mumble, dopey smile on your face. Next, he massages circles into your hips that make you wince. It’s a good kind of wince; the same way it’ll be a good kind of pain. As he does this, Suo lavishes your face with flitting kisses—so different from the man who was about to break your bed frame a few moments ago. You love him and his duality and all the things no one other than you knows about him—well, except for Sakura and Kaji, now. But that’s minuscule. 

You love him so wholly that you forget you’re not alone until Kaji comes back from your bathroom with a few wet washcloths; when did he even get up to get them? Sakura looks on the verge of unconsciousness beside you; you wonder aloud if someone should get him some water. 

“No, no,” he croaks. “Need—no.” 

“What’d’you need, babe?” Kaji’s voice is reserved now; nothing akin to the shark-like snarl he degraded you both with mere minutes before this—even gentler than his normal speaking voice, you’d venture to say. 

You lay a palm across Sakura’s forearm, finger pads going mindlessly, just barely; your lover cleans you up, and Kaji kisses his boy back to reality, too. 

“What were you saying?” the blond half-snaps once he has Sakura sitting up. He has indeed shoved a glass of water into his shaking hands. 

Sakura drinks deeply, gulping like a child getting out of the swimming pool—elbows up, out of breath, comical. And then he speaks, all at once defeated and determined, exhausted and restless. 

“Breakfast.” 

When you slide onto a stool at Kotoha’s bar—your boyfriend to your right and Sakura to your left, who is cornered into the center of attention on the other side by his boyfriend—she makes note of your self-satisfied air; after dropping a cup of hot water and the tea sampler in front of Suo, she turns to Sakura. 

“You look red this morning,” Kotoha quips, smirking at the split-haired boy. “Even for you.” 

Sakura grumbles audibly but unintelligibly while she pours the other three of you glasses of ice water. You pluck a pineapple ginger green tea bag out of the box—one you’ve never seen before—and hold it up; your boyfriend gives you his soft-smiled nod, and you tear the package open for him before you hand it over.

Then she motions vaguely toward you and Suo. “These two giving you trouble?” she jokes—but your two friends hear anything but humor. 

You glance over to see Kaji’s face go pink, too, as he unwraps a sucker and shoves it in his mouth, busying himself with the laminated menu in front of him (it’s been a long time since any of you have had to consult the menu). You hear Suo chuckle airily beside you; you sip your water and feign innocence. 

His messy hair seems messier. His eyes aren’t so wide and sparkly, and he’s got a nasty bruise blossoming on the apple of his left cheek—you bite back, too, the instinctual urge to tease and ask if it’s Chuuya’s doing. 

“Baby,” you coo, bringing your hands up to cup his face (pointedly avoiding the bruise). “I didn’t even cook. Was just cutting up some fruit.” 

“That’s okay,” he sighs, seemingly content to be under your grasp. He really does look exhausted as he grins weakly and slumps into your hold, faltering down to brush a kiss against your lips. “Cut up some strawberries, too, if you would.” 

“Mhm.” You kiss him back, short and sweet—not entirely pleased with such a concise request, but happy to indulge it regardless. “Go get comfy, I’ll be there in a sec.” 

So he does. He wanders off; you dump your fruit into a bowl, fetch the strawberries from the fridge, and toss those in, too, also preparing a glass of ice water for him for good measure. No guarantee he’ll drink it, but at least it’ll be there. 

When you pad to your bed, he’s sitting, pulling a shirt over his bare torso—the local bandages lay at his feet. A rewrap for tomorrow, you think absently, hopping like a cat onto the opposite side and kicking the covers back; not that he’ll have any use for them—the beginnings of stirrings in your brain will come to fruition more beautifully, anyway, should he leave them be. 

His quietness always spooks you a little; you hope nothing too terrible happened today, because if he wanted to talk about it, he undoubtedly would’ve started by now. 

There are very few things a bowl of cut fruit and your fingertips can’t begin to mend, though. 

You flick the light out, turn the television on, lean over to abandon the water on his side table; Osamu plucks a strawberry from the bowl you nestle in your lap and cuddles up to your side. Half a fat cherry gushes between your teeth; you peck the crown of his head. 

Even if he is uncharacteristically quiet, you do always find a bit of joy in fussing over him. You might not draw from him what exactly is on his mind, but you can hold him while it simmers, take care of him—it’s one of the things you do best, after all, and you’re well aware Osamu likes being taken care of. 

He’s painted soft, staticky colors from whatever sitcom plays. You curl the arm that’s fallen behind his head to twirl his hair between your fingers, toy with the shoulder of his shirt; you can feel the tension in him. But before you move, you let the fruit in the bowl dwindle. Better if he eats. 

When his eyes flutter shut and he nudges you, mouth open like some sort of sultan, you shake your head (chuckling) and place a few halved grapes on his tongue. 

You don’t know if he knows how proud you are of him; you tell him plenty, sure, but thinking back to the quip you’re relieved to have held back today, you wonder briefly why he only ever complains gratuitously about the easy days and never the ones that leave him like this. It fills you with a certain sorrow—one that shapeshifts swiftly into determination.

“Last one’s yours.” You pan back in, referring to the sole strawberry left. 

“Mm.” Again, wordlessly, he demands you feed it to him. You concede, of course, with a sleepy grin of your own. 

It’s when his tongue flicks out to lick the remnants of sweetness off your fingertips that you strike; only when you fiddle with his bottom lip do his owl eyes flicker open to peer up into yours. 

Juxtaposition is a fascinating thing. You don’t know what happened today. You don’t know what’s happened on most of the darker days he’s left trailing behind him—you might never know all of it, other than it’s been horrible, scarring, gutting both for him and those staring down the barrel of the gun that is Osamu Dazai—but he looks so innocent before he takes your finger, all the way to the second knuckle, into his mouth to swirl his tongue around. 

You can’t help biting the inside of your cheek. 

As his jaw flexes around you, you press your middle finger in, too. Those brown eyes never falter from yours, nor does the quiet smile in them; any remaining strawberry is long gone, swallowed down, but Osamu sucks on your fingers with fervor, nearly nodding like he’s drawing some other sort of elixir from you—one that will compel him to keep moving forth another day, perhaps, and as he does, his ankles knock against yours. 

“Needy boy, huh.” It’s a statement, not a question, which he needn’t deny or confirm; the attention you shower him with after the days that drag him to hell extends to all the vulnerabilities he doesn’t allow another soul to see—the ones that stem from a depth left neglected by any previous excuse for a caretaker he might’ve had. 

Whereas, you’d be damned if you cast aside a single inch of that void. 

So you poke a kiss to the corner of his mouth—an I’ll be back here later—before you latch onto his neck softly, with just lips first, then tongue, and finally teeth. You find his pulse point and bite, dragging spit-coated fingers down his chin, past his throat to his nipple. 

The exhale from his chest prompts your knee into his lap like the kickback of a gunshot. Rolling equally into you, Osamu tugs you by your arms on top of him, across his hips so you can hunch over him and kiss, bite, kiss, bite, worship from above in the little rhythm you have that's so familiar to his fatigued body. 

Fingers flitting, you creep up his shirt. 

You work his sleep shirt off, too slow for his liking, but something he loves about what you do is how you never even mind the scars; you look at the exposed, marred flesh of his chest, shoulders, arms, and abdomen like it’s empty and pristine only until you mark it up yourself. There are fading bite marks, ones from maybe a few days or a week ago, across the curves where his pectorals slope into his collarbones, and you take it upon yourself to retrace, refresh them as you caress up and down from his shoulders to his hips and back again, doting and unhurried. You bite into him like you did the fruit—like he’ll gush sweetness for you, and he might. 

The empty bowl’s lost somewhere outside the searing kiss you land to his eager mouth (one of you has likely tossed it, kicked it, or pushed it to the floor with his shirt), and his hands wander, aching to offer fair exchange—but you’re quick to stop him, slow him, lick his bottom lip and pin one of his wrists to the headboard beside him before you mutter, “Let me take care of you, ‘kay?” 

In true Osamu fashion, he whines, not unlike a cat being denied a treat; after all, for him, half the fun of fucking is getting you off—but tonight, you smell insincerity in his protest, sense the smallness that silently begs yes, please, take care of me, and you find yourself grinning into his mouth. Osamu’s rarely straightforward; he gets what he wants anyway. 

So, in equally as true Osamu fashion, he’ll sit pretty and let you send him to the clouds. 

You crawl with lips and fingertips back to his chest, to his nipples, where you both know he’s so sensitive; you could make Osamu cum just from your tongue on those pretty, pink buds of his—you have before—but you feel determined to work him up thoroughly, take your time with all of him, all of his distress, right now. 

“Want that pretty mouth on me, baby,” he confesses, quieter and meeker than usual. He keeps drilling home how tired he is—here he is, telling you what he wants so soon. 

You finish sucking a particularly harsh mark into his sternum; plum blooms in your wake, and you twist a nipple. “It is on you.” 

“Mm—no, on me.” And then his hand, the one not held hostage by you, is pushing yours down to his cock, beginning to stiffen in his sweatpants.

“Be patient.” You rise back up to kiss him again, swatting him away just to toy with him over his pants; Osamu chases your breath with his own, hungrily, fingers flexing and relaxing in your grasp when you squeeze him, circle your thumb over his tip, nip at his mouth. “I'll make you feel good.”

It’s when you sit yourself down fully on his growing erection and begin to grind back and forth that he starts whining, barely perceptible, against your lips. 

You hold his face to yours, smile into him reflexively; you love when it’s easy to make him mewl. For as much composure as Osamu holds in every other corner of his life, your bed is the one place he tends to let it escape him, and you live to watch him crumble for you. You live to feel his jaw work into your kiss, to trace adoration into his skin, to hear the little whimpers he lets out rise in decibel the longer you drag him out. You love it most of all because he deserves it—to let go, retreat from himself into your touch. 

“Please,” he whispers into you, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. It might be nothing to make him whine, but it’s no small feat to reduce Osamu Dazai to begging. That you didn’t even have to try tells you he needs this—he needs you; no matter how much he might’ve lied if you asked or banked on you missing it, you know the outline of that word on his lips, and he knows you know it, too. So you grind, not faster but harder, cockily slipping your tongue into his pliant mouth. 

After letting his wrist go, after he grabs your hip and presses you onto him feverishly with a few more of your undulations, you work your way down him again—stopping not at his chest this time but between his hips, waiting to peel the waistband of his sweatpants down and off until you've first circled his belly button and the gradual path of hair that disappears beneath the fabric with kisses growing more intense from one moment to the next. You seek out the little layer of fat stretching across his tummy and bite there, too; he grabs your hair and snickers, watching you through squinted eyes while he tells you hoarsely to stop, it tickles! And you relent with a giggle of your own only to shove his pants down and settle on your stomach, where you urge each of his knees over your shoulders. 

You look up and think, god, you wish you could photograph him right now. Gazing down at you, lips parted with breathlessness, Adam's apple bobbing as you tease him; he’s a quiet image of ecstasy as he curls his hands around your face, only because he trusts you to let him be. When you pause and admire for a moment too long, his lithe fingers take root in your hair; he's wiggling, saying please with his low-lidded eyes and desperate hips only so he won’t have to subject himself to verbalizing it again. 

You wrap an arm beneath his thigh to seek out his cock, finally, sweetly; he’s so hard from that little bit of humping and kissing, and you hold him up to lick a torturously slow stripe from base to tip up the underside. Osamu croons. 

And just when you thought you had him, he starts running his mouth.

“Uh—yeah, was wondering when you'd get to the whole making-me-feel-good part.”

With your free hand, you swat his leg—impatient and sassy, even while he’s supposedly running on fumes. Roguish in every sense of the word, still, while you’re taking such good care of him. His spark would normally have you grinning, and you try not to by burying your face in him, lapping sweetly, diligently at the spot between his base and his balls that should shut him up, but he turns on a dime for you, so unpredictable he’s almost predictable.

“You're so mean, you know?” 

You can tell from his tone he’s smirking.

“Ngh—telling me to be patient wh—while I beg for you.” But he’s far from in pain; quite the opposite, actually, as you glance up and confirm your suspicion. His eyes are dark, lazy, ready to use you to his heart’s content. It should piss you off, but it eggs you on further. He keeps going, but you do, too, suckling one ball into your mouth and making him groan sharply. 

“—Mhm—yeah,” he exhales, one heel digging into your back—telling you he’s still going to fall apart quick. “You always know just—uh—just where to... t’—”

In a rarer display of force, you grab behind yourself for his shin, gripping it, bending it up close to him and freeing your other arm; after this, you reach up, stuff your pre-cum dabbled fingers back in his mouth as your fingers around his cock give a tough squeeze—to which he can only respond with a muffled mph! and widening eyes. 

Your patience with him is perpetually thinning. You pull away from his leaking cock to prop yourself up to kneel, to shove your fingers deeper and peer right into his face. He has you doing all this moving around. He should be grateful. 

“How about you be quiet, Osamu?” you pose gently; your fingerpads on his tongue are anything but, and he’s squirming at the loss of pleasure. You relish it. “Get my fingers nice n’ wet while you’re at it.”

Osamu’s teeth are in your knuckles a little too harsh to be considered polite, but you thrust them toward the back of his tongue anyway; he holds your eyes, you shoo his legs open further so as not to have to work around them as you resume stroking him lazily, and you tilt your head, admiring again. He hums around you, sighs through his nose while he laps you up, so you pick up the talking. 

“So cute when you shut the fuck up.” 

You retract your fingers momentarily to squish his cheeks, and the face as well as the sound he makes is nothing short of adorable, less in the contrived sense and more in the literal as his nose scrunches; you want to adore him by making him come, and you will, but he’s making it so hard—so you will after thrusting your fingers back into his bratty mouth immediately. 

“When have I ever left you unsatisfied, huh?” You don’t wait for an answer. “When have I ever not given my good boy what he needs?” 

It’s rhythmic, how he echoes the cadence of good boy with his body—first in the way his hips buck into you, and next in the groan you don’t let pass his teeth. 

“That’s right. You’re smart enough to know when I want you to be quiet and take it.”

You leave hardly a second between replacing your fingers with your mouth, sloppy, all breath, biting at his bottom lip and the tip of his tongue; Osamu loves when you kiss him hard, like you need him. Loves feeling needed more than he needs. But you know—maybe better than he does.

You smear his spit down his chin, wasting it for what you’re planning next; there’s one more thing he’ll do for you, and you'll get him there if it kills you—you’ll disarm this unshakably smug and prodigiously self-controlled man and turn him into your lover, like you do so often.

For what it’s worth, this is the least he’s made you work for it in a while.

Osamu chases you when you leave his kiss, but you pin him down.

“Aht—” You shove them back in, abrupt across his tongue, just the tips of them. Only until he settles, and then you hold them out, cradling his bottom lip with your two fingers like a spoon. “Spit.”

And he does.

“Good boy, Osamu.”

You love watching the power leave his body when you utter those two words in combination with his name. As if conditioned, his cock jumps; you notice this as you reach down, dollop of spit beginning to drip between your fingers before you circle them around his hole and oh, you’re rewarded with the prettiest gasp that trails off into an even prettier whimper—yes, a whimper, because he always ends up breaking so pathetically beneath you.

You smile into Osamu’s mouth when his breath picks up, evermore unsteady as you tease the rim of his ass. Without having to ask, he pitches his hips up for you, knees bent and feet bracing when you traverse back down his jugular with your lips and teeth.

You’re fast now, eager yourself; your line’s barely straight, but you meet your own hand again as you return.

“Please,” followed by your name, huffy, totally realized this time.

And since it’s finally looking like he’s going to be obedient for you, how can you do anything but oblige?

Curling your fingers back around his cock, collecting the leakiness at his weepy tip to stroke him fully, he throws his soft brown head back into the headboard, gripping the sheets. No free hand to use, you hum and hope silently for his legs over your shoulders once more, and like a mindreader, he obliges you now—good boy, you’d be saying, if your mouth wasn’t occupied with one of his balls, or maybe tracing into his skin if you weren’t fucking him open on two fingers now, rewriting the meaning of triple homicide with your movements.

When you switch your mouth and the hand wrapped around him, Osamu starts to get demanding. 

“Deeper,” he growls through his teeth, and you’re unclear whether he means he wants you deeper inside him or his cock deeper down your throat, so you do both. “C’mon—I want it, baby.” 

No please, and definitely no thank you when you give into his whims both ways, thrusting deeper to curl up and apply pressure to the spot you know will have him writhing into you, and that’s exactly what he does—bucks into you, shoves your face all the way down on him harshly. 

And then he really starts talking. 

“Thought you’d be all nice n’ be in charge—n’ take care of me? Hah—” 

You still your head while Osamu holds either side of your jaw and humps upward, drawing wet, smothered heaves from the back of your throat as his throbbing tip starts to hammer it. 

“That’s sweet, honey.” 

Deep down, you really, truly do know why he doesn’t complain about easy days, but the bulb only ever flickers once you’re choking and drooling on him—only ever once he has you right where he wants you. When you fuss over him, it always gives him a leg up to rip that control he thirsts for so deeply away from you with all the more force. You thought today might be different, but you were wrong.

He licks his lips as honey drips from it, cradling you with the same gentleness you talked to him with earlier and employing the same ruthlessness in contrast with his snapping hips. You surrender to his brutal pace and the air he cuts off from you so cruelly—but god, if you had the faculty to, you wouldn’t even be able to deny that you love letting him use you, love letting him take what he wants from you, so you focus your swirling consciousness on pressing the pads of your fingers up, deeper into his ass, worming your ring finger next to your middle one to stretch him even wider open, have him gasping, holding on loosely. 

It’s always a push and pull between you, after all; you always let Osamu have his fun, but he knows who he belongs to at the end of the day, because you always have him sounding like—

“God—fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck—” 

—while he leverages his heels in your back to fuck your throat meaner, harder. You gag, spit dribbling down your chin, onto his balls, and you know it spurs him on—you know the ring of drool at his base and the sweet, nasty sounds you make involuntarily for him keep him chasing that pretty fulfillment you inspire in the pit of his stomach. 

“Look who’s cute now,” he drawls on, pushing your hair away from your forehead to watch the way he possesses you when he’s in you like this; wheezing, whimpering in between, eyes rolling back from the force. The dominator in him wants to laugh at you, but his taunting throttles almost violently back to strangled groans and cries of your name while tears bead on his lashes. For every take it, take it, take it, there’s an equal please, please, please. “Not so bad yourself when you shut the fuck up.”

Osamu always grunts in a certain vocal register lower, a sultry one, when he’s close to spilling down your throat—and each byte you draw from him by sitting and being his good little toy is reminding you how much how much it gets you off, too, to make him feel good; you grind against the mattress helplessly while he has you pinned in place—you squeeze and massage his balls needily, frantically while you keep his clenching hole full, keep him moaning and sobbing for you through his little semblance of authority because you know all of his tells. You know when he’s about to fall apart, you can always tell by the way he twitches fast, abrupt—when those grunts splinter into high-pitched cries and he starts breathing almost panic-like, enough to make himself a little dizzy while he unloads in you but you don’t give him the satisfaction of that this time, because he led you here too easy today and you’re not quite done. You have to take something back, and so when he’s cursing with his eyes screwed shut and tears threatening to slip down his face you muster up your strength, wrestle yourself off of his cock and out of his hole with a lewd pop so he can warble no, no, no—half-launching yourself away from him to watch his chin fall to his chest to see himself shoot spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum onto the sheets. He grapples, pumps at his dick clumsily, but it’s done and over; your grin is nothing short of vicious as his tears fall, and he scowls at you through his ruined orgasm that was going to be so sweet with you milking him from the inside, but now his ass twitches emptily and his balls do the same, and the satisfaction is all yours. 

You thumb your drool from your face—you should scoop it up and drop it all back in his mouth, but he looks so wrecked in front of you with his hole spasming and his cock softening that you decide not to add insult to injury. Your giggles are bubbly as you crawl back toward him. 

Beneath the triumphant kiss you press to his mouth—still sweet with lingering strawberry flavor—he blindly swipes the mess up off the sheets and draws you away to shove his own fingers in your mouth. You got the last laugh, but he’s not about to give it up so easily. Still fighting him, you lick his spend up diligently and return to poke at his hole. He jumps, you bite down—you’re not going to let him win, and finally pulling out of your mouth, still glowering at the way you take great delight in yourself, Osamu concedes victory.

“You’re so fucking mean to me.” He’s hoarse, as if he’s the one who just got his throat fucked. 

“Trust me,” you sigh back, slinging yourself over his lap again and wriggling on his thigh. He’s going to tease you so bad for getting worked up by letting him use you and play games with you, but you’re certain you can handle it. “You deserve it.” 

He looks so pretty like this, is the first thought that floats into your head as you watch the way Megumi’s eyes gloss over at Yuji’s first careful thrust, his soft lips passing open around a shuddered gasp.

You could tell he was trying to be quiet at first, biting his lip to keep the noises from slipping out as hot embarrassment flushed his cheeks. Megumi does the same when you have sex with him, but you have ways of opening him up- and so does Yuji, clearly, fingers curling into his waist to yank him strongly backwards until the noises are punched out of him.

“Mmfh- hah-“ he gasps, eyes brimming with a few overstimulated tears as his elbows give way to crash to the sheets. Yuji’s holding your boyfriend’s lean hips up, plunging into him a little meanly with each stroke.

Megumi can’t look at you. He doesn’t want you to see his face, all pathetic and teary and crammed against the sheets of your shared bed as his best friend pummels inside him. From what you can see, his pretty eyelashes are beaded with tears and they’re rapidly fluttering against the duvet below, spiky hair ruffled in every direction possible.

Although, Megumi couldn’t look at you even if he wanted to. His eyes are rolling themselves starrily back in their sockets as Yuji’s sobbing tip glides across his sweet spot and stretches him out, a few quiet groans slipping out of the pink haired man’s mouth.

When you lean forwards, sliding automatically onto the floor to hold onto Megumi’s hands, his face looks wrecked. He looks wrecked, collapsed forwards into your sheets as Yuji pummels him from behind; you gaze up at him, Yuji awkwardly grins like he’s about to give you a thumbs up or wave then realises his hands are too busy gripping Megumi’s hips.

“Megs,” you whisper, shoving his hair back from his rolling eyes, “Megs, it’s okay. I’ve got you, don't worry.” He nuzzles forwards into your hand and whimpers, tears sliding down his red cheeks. Whether they’re from embarrassment or arousal, you can’t tell.

“F-fuck.” He shudders out, grinding forwards into the sheets. “M’sorry, hck, I…” he trails off, obviously forgetting whatever he was supposed to initially say when Yuji thrusts in again. And then he remembers.

“I’m pathetic.”

Your heart clenches a little. “You aren’t.” You coo, stroking away his tears. “You aren’t, Megs. You’re perfect for us.” He gasps and shudders, hips bucking. Yuji moans from above, lip caught between his teeth.

“S-sorry, guys-“ he heaves, genuinely feeling bad he interrupted, “I don’t think- im about to cum. Do you want me to, like, pull out, Megumi?”

Megumi’s too fucked dumb to answer, face smushed between your loving hands. “Do you want Yu to pull out?” You whisper. Megumi nods lucidly at you, and Yuji adheres; he pulls himself out with an obscenely slick noise and Megumi collapses into the mattress where he continues his mindless grinding into the sheets.

You know he’s ruined the duvet with cum when he moans and his pupils dilate outwards before rolling back, his facial expression quite literally the hottest thing you think he’s ever let you see him do. “So good for us,” you assure him as he shakes through the aftershocks, “so good.”

From behind, Yuji is still half-straddling Megumi as he jerks his cock with his hand. He’s gasping and shuddering above, silken skin slapping against his calloused palm and thumb as he pushes himself towards an orgasm quickly.

“Shit!” He groans when he cums, almost doubling over as his abdomen tenses in on itself. Thick ropes spurt across Megumi’s sweaty lower back, streaking the pale skin with sticky white globs that drip across the flesh almost nastily. “Sorry.” Yuji pants immediately after it’s done, “didn’t wanna ruin your sheets.”

You laugh breathlessly, a little more turned on by his show than you’d be willing to admit if anybody asked. “I think Megs has that one covered. Don’t you, baby?” You purr, holding your boyfriend’s lolling head up in your palms. His face is bright red in embarrassment, but he’s still recovering from the space his brain retreated into for him to respond.

Yuji grins, smile just as boyish as it usually is. Apparently, he’s completely undeterred by the naked body beneath him and the way he’s also incredibly naked, cock out in front of Megumi's girlfriend's face and dripping cum onto Megumi’s back. “Well,” Yuji says, scratching the back of his neck, “I guess you’re right.”

He yanks on his clothes, awkwardly avoiding the way Megumi looks like he’s just ran a marathon and is still panting because of it like his dick wasn’t just buried inside him. Then, Yuji stands in your bedroom like a puppy waiting to be given orders.

“Do you want a drink?” You offer him, still petting Megumi’s head as he recovers. You know he’d hate the attention to be on him when he’s like this, so you’re being casual. Yuji deliberates on this for a moment, tapping his chin. “Do you have tap water?”

You snort. “Yes, we do. Glasses are above the sink, knock yourself out.” Yuji bounces out of the room- thankfully wearing his clothes now- and you hear the glasses clink from your kitchen.

“Hey, Megs.” You whisper, noticing the way his eyes have refocused onto your face. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, you did so good. I really liked it.”

He loops his arms- as trembling as they are- around your neck and gasps in a few deep breaths until he’s steady again. “You…” he says quietly, “you liked it?” You nod. “Mhm. A lot.”

He avoids your eye contact and drags the blanket around his hips. “Huh.”

“Guys!” Yuji yells from the hallway, a little too loud for how late it is, “I’m gonna go home and sleep. Have a nice weekend!”

“Bye, Yu!” You call back, before returning your attention to your naked, sleepy boyfriend, who presses his mouth lazily to yours as soon as you’re within reach. You should do this more often.

ೃ࿔*:･

masterlist

a/n: yumyumyumyum

tags (open):

@yvannaille @f33bs @loverofladybugs @p3stop3sta @arabellasolstice @dreamcastgirl99 @what-the-jams @likstars @elenathriel @gyusheadphones @savagecatsuga @wqsrs @kakuthefish @megssleepygirl @olegirldowntheblock @sugerfilled @mershyjershy @1cckedheart @mimicosmos8 @destenyyyyy @icebearcucumber @satoru2716 @mebodys @megumisrighttoe @toesy3 @ivankinnieclatter @v4mp1r3b4tzz @a-court-of-smut-and-sluts @stqrgumi @skylaryippee @iridescentshine @hanges-wife @rengoatku @lilyalone @cherryfawnie @toro-inouelover @bowiesprettieststar2 @mischivana @themoonknowsyourname @lovingplum @tellria @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred

lust starts to bubble within your eyes, usually so sweet and innocent. you just have to know if he feels as big as he looks in them.

yuuji exhales shakily. not looking at you. “you’re not watching the movie, are you?”

a hint. a chance. you take it. “can i touch it?” your ask is a breathless whisper — as light as summer’s breeze and barely there. like a figure in the night. touch him, rub on him, do everything you’ve been thinking about for months.

he’s already straining, clenched at the abdomen to keep himself from cumming from the friction against his inner seam. yet he grows under your inquisitive attention, throbbing in a dull rhythm that calls up your greed as though it were following the beating lull of a siren’s song.

yuuji’s cheeks glow warm in the dimness, a rose tinted flame in the dark. he swallows. “if you wanna… j-just be careful, yeah?”

that’s all it takes.

his head tips back in a filthy shameful moan — pink hair askew like the flutter of petals — and his throat bobs as he swallows down a flurry of curse words once your hand slips past the waistband. your grip curiously stretches the tightness of boxers as your tiny hand wraps around his fat girth. sticky, pulsing with arousal, prominent veins forming indents in your palm.

“you feel so big, yuuji,” your nose brushes his pulse point with the same gentleness you would with your lips for a kiss. it’s as if you’re trying to inhale his life force, tuck yourself impossibly closer. he feels swollen in your hand, cock beating as unsteadily as his heart, and he oozes premature white into the crevices of your finger prints. “sensitive too.”

“nngh, i know,” whilst itadori’s hips jump without his control and forces his length through your first, the weight of his crown drops to yours. the two of you share a view, your slippery hand in his near-see-through boxers doused with slick and precum beading from his sappy mushroomed tip. “s-sorry, fuck. ‘m just so hard and you’re so pretty and you smell so good.” he admits to you quietly in a high pitched whine, like a secret exchanged between two lovers at a rendezvous point. for your ears only. no one else gets to know how wrecked you have him.

the bulbous head of his cock is raw and red, shiny, as it peaks out from the elasticated band of his boxers — only because you’ve stroked him to full hardness. he no longer fits in the fabric. you thumb him there in comforting circles, spreading his arousal in the same manner that drool spreads across your tongue.

long, dark lashes flutter against your forehead like angel’s kisses and you squeeze around every inch that slides through your hold — sharing airy moans the more yuuji leaks against your tight knuckles. “you could make me cum like this, y-y’know? in my boxers like a — fuck — like a teenager,” yuuji stutters, chasing words that don’t make sense on his tongue. hips running after the solace your soft strokes. “makes me feel so filthy, but i’ve been waiting for you. t-to notice? how badly i’ve wanted it to be you touching me like this. i’d do anything for you. anything, baby girl.”

his honesty turns and twists your guts into feverish knots.

“then will you?” you purr artlessly. eyes on the string of drooly white leaking from his sensitive tip. “wanna see how much you cum too.”

“god yes, i can cum. i’ll cum for you. just —!” yuuji’s large hand slips around your wrist and he guides you. helps you tug on the parts of his dick that make him gargle and struggle for breath. he bucks upwards, chasing pleasure and the heavenly solace your fist has to offer. “that’s it, just like that. make me cum, been waiting for so long.”

you’re in awe of it all. the ripple of his abs as he thrusts, the way moans coil in between the letters of your name as they leave his lips. you touch yuuji like you were made for it, jerk him off as though it were instinct. squeezing him every time his hips draw back, circling his tip over and over in languid runs of your thumb around the world.

he takes that as a sign, permission to let go of the unravelling knot he’s been trying to hold together since first laying beside you. on instinct, like his body knows nothing else, he squeezes you tight against him — cheek smooshed against your crown, shaky loud and whimpers in your ear that have your own underwear damp and he snaps.

like a twig with little resistance to pressure.

“oh my god — baby, shit!”

yuuji’s release is sizeable, viscous like lava flow as it rockets hotly up his abdomen and pools amongst the ridges of his abs and belly button. white against gold. his underwear is positively soiled all the way through, crude stringy cum gathering amongst his balls and your wriggling fingers as you jerk him through his high. where his back bows towards the ceiling as though the heavens have come to collect his sweet soul and his thighs shake like his foundations are unsteady.

and even after all that, all the ropes of hot white that hit his skin — he’s still hard and swollen, monstrous in size that suddenly dawns on you as yuuji rolls you onto your back. landing on top.

his shoulders, as they heave, block out the glow of the movie playing behind him — crowding you against the pillows, acting as a shield to hide you away from the world and you feel him heavy against your tummy. cold with slick but heated with arousal at the same time.

your roommate grins, buzzing and slow. “how many inches is the biggest dick you’ve ever taken?”

“i don’t… know? i’ve never measured?” you squeak, suddenly flushed with a delicious mix of horniness and fear. “why?”

yuuji clicks his tongue then, big hand sliding up your face to cover your mouth — his free one guiding his erection between your now parted thighs.

“just wondering, how much of me you’ll be able to take tonight.”

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A few hours later, you find yourself in one of your new favourite places in the world: in Megumi's bed, kneeling between your boyfriend and his best friend, slowly but thoroughly stroking their gorgeous cocks.

You bask in the way they feel in your hands, velvety and hard, and the noises they make for you. Yuuji's unashamed loud moans, and Megumi's soft, fast breaths.

It's intoxicating, being with them like this. Touching them, watching them, and feeling their eyes on you, too. It excites you to kneel naked between Megumi and Yuuji, your body on full display for them. Your tits bouncing with every stroke of your hand on their hard cocks, your pussy so wet for them, glistening with your arousal, and longing written all over your face.

You lean closer to Megumi, your gaze on his soft lips, and he puts two long fingers on your chin, tilting your head, and then his lips are on yours, kissing you oh so tenderly, and your head spins.

Your hands keep working Megumi's and Yuuji's hard lengths, and you feel a trickle of pre-cum running down your boyfriend's dick. Megumi gently pulls away from your kiss, blue eyes looking into yours, before he gently pushes you toward Yuuji.

You smile when Yuuji's large hand cups the back of your head, and he coos in that low, sweet voice,

"Aww, come here, sweetheart."

His lips are warm and sweet, just like him. His kiss is more instinctive and bolder than Megumi's practiced, slow kisses. They are both amazing.

When you pull away from Yuuji, he beams at you, looking so pretty that your heart clenches. He turns his head to bless Megumi with that same dazzling smile, and before you even grasp the thought, the words already tumble out of your mouth:

"Please kiss each other."

You crave to see them together, and to your delight, they are into it just as much as you. Megumi reaches out instantly, cupping Yuuji's cheek and pulling him closer.

"Come here, Itadori."

Yuuji chuckles and immediately starts kissing Megumi, not wasting any time, immediately opening his lips to push his tongue into his best friend's mouth.

They look so pretty together. The sunshine boy and the ice prince. Megumi's long, elegant fingers cup Yuuji's tan cheek, holding him in place so Megumi can control the kiss. And Yuuji's large calloused hand runs through Megumi's untamed hair, tugging on it to bring Megumi even closer and kiss him even deeper.

Your mouth is watering just from watching them, and suddenly you are driven by another strong need. You lean down, rubbing your cheek against your boyfriend's cock, and then your tongue darts out to lick slowly over Megumi's swollen pink tip, lapping at the glistening pre-cum that is collecting in his slit.

You're rewarded by a low gasp from your boyfriend and a jerk of his hips, which pushes his tip further into your mouth. You hum happily and suckle sweetly on Megumi's cockhead, opening your eyes again and looking up at your two boys, as you slowly bop your mouth on Megumi's dick, gradually taking him deeper into your mouth.

Megumi and Yuuji have stopped kissing, and both look at you now with a horny, dreamy expression on their pretty faces.

But then Megumi's dark blue eyes harden. He grabs a fistful of your hair,

"Did we make you cock crazy, princess? Couldn't hold back anymore? But there are two of us. It's not fair if you only play with my cock."

You whimper loudly. His words make your body tremble with arousal.

"But Fushiguro, she looks so cute with your cock in her mouth!"

"Yeah, she does. But she would look even cuter with my cock in her mouth and your cock in her pussy."

A loud moan escapes your lips, and your thighs clench. Your lips leave Megumi's dick with an obscene-sounding wet pop. You nod feverishly,

"Yes! Please, I want that!"

And now Yuuji moans, too. You see him wrap a large hand around his fat cock and give himself a few slow strokes while his head falls back against the headboard,

"Fuckkk.."

Megumi's lips lift in a soft half-smile, and he pulls you into his lap, making you straddle his lean, muscled thigh. You whimper when your wet pussy glides over his taut muscles, and Megumi's long fingers caress your hair as if you are a sweet pet.

His voice is raspy,

"You'll have to be a big girl now if you want to take that huge dick. You think you can do that, angel?"

You whimper and nod, unable to talk because you are so turned on by the way Megumi talks to you and how Yuuji's honey eyes wander hungrily and adoringly over you.

Megumi laughs softly, his dark blue eyes filled with love and pride,

"Then let's get you ready for Itadori's cock."

The next few minutes are some of the hottest in your whole life. You feel like you are floating as you ride Megumi's thigh and he fingers you open with his talented fingers, making you drool all over his hand as he fucks you deeply with his ring and middle finger. And Yuuji is behind you, spreading you open with large warm hands and licking your drooling cunt right where his best friend's fingers pump in and out of you.

You scream when Megumi and Yuuji caress the first orgasm out of you, making you tremble wildly and gush all over Megumi's fingers and onto Yuuji's tongue, mewling their names over and over again.

Megumi gently pulls his fingers out of you, and your pussy spasms when Yuuji peppers a few loving kisses on your pussy lips. His voice is muffled by your warm, wet cunt when he murmurs in between those sweet, nasty kisses,

"I think our princess is ready for my dick. All sweet and loose now."

A broken wild sob escapes your lips, pussy clenching at Yuuji's words and the thought of getting dicked down by him while Megumi watches.

Megumi's long fingers are in your hair again, gently petting you, even while his words are stern and dominant,

"Look at you, so cute and needy. Let's see how badly you need his cock. Use your mouth, princess. Beg him for his dick."

You sob, hands clutching Megumi's arms tightly, your fingernails digging into his biceps, so horny that you almost cry. But you turn your head to look at Yuuji, feeling your cheeks burn, when you whimper,

"Yuuji? Can I please have your cock? Please, I need you inside me so bad! Please fuck me, Yuuji!"

"Aww, cutie, you don't have to beg. Fushiguro, don't be so mean! If you're a nice boy, you can fuck me too sometime. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

You can hear the need in Megumi's voice when a low moan tumbles from his lips at Yuuji's words. And you feel yourself clenching around nothing, as an image of Megumi fucking Yuuji fills your mind. You want to see it happen. You need it!

But that's something for another night. Right now, it's your turn to be Megumi's and Yuuji's girl, their little cockslut, their good little pet, who will take both their cocks, one on each side, in your pussy and in your mouth.

You feel Megumi's elegant but strong hands on your waist, lifting you slightly so he can untangle himself from you. You smile at him and go completely limp in his strong arms, letting Megumi manhandle you into whatever position he wants, always trusting him 100%, knowing he will always take good care of you.

He is your dominant, stern but caring boyfriend who feels the safest when he is in control, and you are his sweet, submissive girlfriend, who feels relieved by getting the burden of decisions taken care of by him.

You go soft in Megumi's arms, letting him pull you up and making you kneel on the bed on all fours, obedient and trusting, your legs spread to expose your needy, wet cunt to Yuuji, who is kneeling on the bed behind you.

A loud moan is coming from him, and his large, warm hands land on your ass-cheeks, squeezing them lightly,

"Fuck... thank you so much for sharing your pretty girl with me, Fushiguro."

"What's mine is also yours. I know you'll be good to her."

Megumi positions himself before you, standing in front of the bed, his taut abs and his rock-hard cock right in front of your face. Your pulse is fluttering, excitement and arousal making you light-headed. A shaky moan escapes your lips, and Megumi huffs softly, an amused but also turned-on sound, and he reaches out to grab your hair, forcing your head up to look into his dark blue eyes.

He talks calmly to you, soft but firm,

"I want you to be a good girl for Yuuji and me now, taking our cocks at the same time, and taking all of our cum. Can you do that, princess?"

Megumi's gaze is intense, searching. Your dom who likes to give you orders but also always makes sure you are ok. It's one of the things that makes you absolutely crazy for him.

He is pushing his swollen, gorgeous cockhead lightly against your lips, slowly rubbing it over your lips, smearing his pre cum over them like lip gloss, his sweet musky scent filling your nose and making you stupid with need.

And behind you, Yuuji's large hands knead your ass firmly, moaning at the feel of your plump flesh under his calloused palms. His hips are rutting slowly against you, making his fat mushroom head already prod teasingly at your wet hole with the promise of fucking you open on it as soon as you are ready.

You mewl needily, looking up at Megumi with big eyes,

"Yes, yes, I can do that. I will be the best girl for you two. Please fuck me."

Megumi's lips lift in a tender smile as he looks deeply into your eyes for a moment longer, and then his gaze lifts and wanders to a point behind you. To Yuuji. You can't see it, but you know that dark blue eyes and honey colored eyes are currently locked in a deep, lust-filled gaze, and Megumi's low voice, soft like a caress, but also commanding, says,

"You heard our girl, Itadori. Let's make her happy and give her our cocks."

They push into you simultaneously. Stuffing you from both sides, like the sweet fucktoy that you are. A wild-sounding moan echoes in the back of your throat, muffled by Megumi's long, hard cock while Yuuji's fat mushroom head glides through your wet pussy lips and then splits you open, claiming your pussy for the first time.

Your heart is beating so fast that you feel dizzy. You close your eyes, grounding yourself by focusing on the heavy feeling of Megumi's cock on your tongue, the way he slowly rocks into you, letting you adjust to his hard length, letting you calm your breathing to take him as deep as you can, just as he trained you for months.

It makes you moan around him, filled with the familiar happiness at being filled by your boyfriend's dick. And it makes it easier to take Yuuji's fat cock. He is really huge, making you think for a moment he won't fit. It burns slightly, getting split open by such a fat cock, but it also feels addictive, making you crave more, almost wishing he would just snap his hips and brutally bury himself in you with one hard thrust.

But Yuuji is a sweet boy, so strong but so gentle, murmuring soft praise to you and apologizing for his big cock while his large hands caress you soothingly, running up and down your back in gentle caresses while he fucks himself slowly into you, inch by inch,

"Shhh, it's ok, cutie. I'm so sorry, but I promise it will feel good in a moment. You are doing so well. Taking my cock like a champ. So sweet for me, such a good girl for Megumi and me, huh? Just a bit more, cutie, and I'll be fully inside you. Oh god, I wanna make you feel so good on my dick, baby. I wanna feel you cream all over me."

You sob lightly, feeling so turned on, and you lift your ass eagerly, begging Yuuji to fuck himself fully into you. He moans loudly, hips bucking, and he finally bottoms out in you, fat cock pushed to the hilt in you, making you feel so full and stretched out like never before in your life.

A gasp falls from your lips, mouth hanging open slack, making Megumi's cock hit the back of your throat, and you moan around it, causing Megumi to groan loudly and tighten his hold on your hair.

Yuuji's hands are on your hips, so large and strong, digging into your skin, surely leaving a mark, but he doesn't even notice it. He is cursing and moaning behind you, thick muscular thighs trembling against yours as he forces himself to hold still for a moment to let you adjust to his fat cock inside you.

And then he starts to move, slowly humping your swollen cunt, making you gasp and moan and push back against him like a needy slut, wordlessly begging him to move and give you more.

One of Megumi's elegant hands cups your cheek, caressing it tenderly, and he whispers in that sexy low voice,

"Does he feel good inside you, sweetheart?"

You mewl, looking up at Megumi with tearstained eyes, which are probably full of little hearts, and Megumi laughs softly, caressing your cheek again,

"You're such a sweet thing for us. I am proud of you, angel."

His praise makes you tremble, filled with so much love that you think you will burst. It feels heavenly, being so full of both of them. Being their girl, their pretty toy to use and fuck as they like.

Megumi rolls his hips slowly, fucking your mouth with his pretty cock, slow and deep, groaning softly, as his midnight blue eyes wander to his best friend who is fucking you from behind.

The ass-guy that he is, Yuuji can't take his hands away from your plump ass-cheeks, kneading them firmly, and giving your ass the occasional hard slap, as he is losing himself in your tight heat.

Loud unashamed moans fall from Yuuji's lips, his hips slam against your ass with loud wet noises, where your juices drool all over his fat cock and full balls, which smack against your swollen clit with each deep thrust, making you gasp and mewl.

And Megumi's cock is driving you just as crazy. Fucking your mouth, using you in such a nasty and perfect way. A bit mean, but also so loving, knowing exactly how much you can take. You are always addicted to Megumi's cock, moaning eagerly around his hard length, caressing it with your tongue and hollowing your cheeks like a good girl, sucking his dick so devotedly as if it were a love confession.

Megumi's strong hands are tangled in your hair, guiding you, and holding you in place, so he can fuck your mouth any way he needs. Sometimes, he stills for a moment to hold himself back from cumming too soon, and then your nose is buried in Megumi's trimmed black pubic hair, and you inhale his scent greedily. Fresh and clean, and that slightly musky scent of his skin and cock. Comforting and sexy at the same time.

You mewl again, clenching around Yuuji's fat cock, which is stretching you out so good. So big, so heavy. His fat mushroom head is kissing your sweet spot over and over again, making your pussy tighten around Yuuji's cock with the promise of an earth-shattering orgasm washing over you soon.

Megumi's breath is coming out in short, loud gasps, and he curses softly, pulling his cock out of your mouth and pressing the heel of his hand against it, barely able to hold back. His cheeks are flushed prettily, and his blue eyes look into yours, heavy lidded with lust,

"Cum for us, princess. Cum all over Yuuji's cock."

You cry out, Megumi's words and Yuuji's dick making you crazy. And Yuuji snaps his hips faster, moaning loudly, urging you on, too,

"Yes, sweetie, give it to me. Fuck! Please milk my dick!"

He ruts into you, circling his hips now, his fat mushroom head putting the sweetest pressure against your sweet spot the whole time, until you tumble over the edge. You squeal his name, heat rushing over you and gushing out of your spasming pussy.

You cum so hard on Yuuji's cock. Clenching wildly around him, milking his dick with your intense orgasm, so wet and hot, squirting on him, while you jerk and tremble wildly. But Yuuji and Megumi are there to hold you, to guide you, and talk you through your orgasm.

"Yes, yes, cutie, you are such a good girl. Fuck! So sweet! Look how cute you cum all over my cock, fuck yes, you're doing so well. You're gonna make me nut so much, baby!"

And Megumi's low voice, rough with arousal,

"Just like that, princess. Yes, don't hold back, cum all over him. You're so sweet for us. Our angel girl."

He pushes his swollen pink cockhead back into your mouth, just the tip, as if to give you something to hold onto while you fall apart on his best friend's cock. You suckle eagerly on it while you mewl and ride out your orgasm on Yuuji's cock, pushing back against him, burying his whole fat dick deep in you, not wanting to let go.

Yuuji moans loudly, hips stuttering against you. You can feel his calloused fingers dig into your skin, slightly sweaty, but he holds you firmly, squeezing your ass as he ruts into you with strong, deep thrusts, almost brutal now that he's nearing his orgasm, giving you a taste of his superhuman strength. He sobs loudly, sounding so sexy that your eyes roll back,

"Fuck yes! Yes! I'm so close! Can I cum in you, cutie? Megumi, baby, can I please cum in her? Can I fill her up? Please, I want to so bad! Want her full of my cum, please!"

He sounds so needy, so close to busting, but holding back until the two of you give him permission. It's so hot, and you know Megumi thinks the same because you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, accompanied by a low, rough groan,

"Fuck yes, do it, baby! Fill her up! Cum in our girl!"

Yuuji's answer is a loud cry, followed by a series of needy moans as he fucks his cock desperately into you, fast and hard,

"Thank you! Ah! Ah fuck! Thank you!"

His moans become wild, high-pitched, and then he sobs loudly, and stops moving, just pulling you closer to him with his insane strength, keeping you completely on his dick as he throbs inside you, spilling his hot seed in long, thick spurts deep inside your pussy.

You moan his name, just when Megumi does the same, barely managing to pull his dick out of your mouth to stop himself from cumming. You see the feverish glint in his midnight blue eyes as he watches his best friend slowly humping your pussy and enjoying the last waves of his orgasm inside you to the fullest, giving you every last drop of his thick cum.

And you see Megumi's dick twitch, more pre-cum oozing needily out of his now dark-pink and swollen cockhead, so desperate to cum after edging himself for so long.

Yuuji sighs and laughs happily, pulling his spent dick out of you, and caressing your ass gently,

"Fuck, that was so good. Did you enjoy watching, Megumi?"

Megumi's low voice is raspy when he replies,

"I loved it. Turn her around, so I can see the creampie you gave her."

Yuuji chuckles and does as Megumi says, gently but firmly pulling you with him, making you turn around. He spreads your pussy lips with his thumbs, to show Megumi your ruined pussy, fucked so good and filled to the brim with Yuuji's thick white cum.

You mewl at how nasty this is, how sexy to be treated like this, like a prized trophy.

Megumi groans softly, his elegant hands trailing over your legs, catching the thick rivulets of Yuuji's cum that are slowly running down your thighs.

"Watch me, Itadori... I'll fuck your cum back into her. Gonna mix it with mine."

You gasp softly at his words, and then you get pulled back against Megumi's body. Your ass is flush against his hard manhood, and you hear him growl, his control snapping. He pushes into you with one hard thrust that makes both of you gasp. It's nasty how easily Megumi slips inside you, as creamed up as you are by his best friend's cum, loose and fucked out by Yuuji's dick.

You mewl Megumi's name, always so elated to feel your boyfriend's gorgeous dick inside you,

"Yes, Megumi! Oh, baby, please cum in me too."

You hear smooching noises and look over your shoulder to see Megumi and Yuuji kissing each other hungrily. Making out while Megumi is fucking you. You clench around his cock at the sight, whimpering from how hot this is.

Megumi is so far gone that he doesn't even try to be gentle. He moans lowly and snaps his hips brutally, fucking you hard and mean. It's so sexy the way he is losing control, overcome by his primal instincts to bury his cock in you and fuck you and fill you with his cum.

He cums with a loud growl, long fingers digging bruisingly into your waist, holding you in place as he rams his orgasming cock as deep as possible into your tight heat, pumping you full with spurt after spurt of his warm cum, mixing his seed with Yuuji's.

Megumi is groaning loudly, slowly rocking against you, fucking his whole orgasm deep into you. And you hear Yuuji moan too, followed by another kissing noise and a low whisper,

"You are so pretty, Megumi. You look so fucking beautiful when you cum. I could watch you all day."

Megumi groans again, stilling inside you, cock completely spent, but he doesn't pull out yet. He leans down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades and whisper a breathless,

"I love you, princess."

He finally pulls out of you, but a strong hand stays on your lower back, tenderly caressing you, and you crawl to him, hugging him tightly, pressing your whole naked body against him, and kissing his neck.

"I love you too, babe."

Megumi sighs happily, holding you tight for a long moment, until his breathing has calmed down again. And then his dark blue eyes gaze at you, expression controlled again.

"Show us."

You know exactly what he means, and you bite your lip, pulse racing as you sit on the bed and slowly part your thighs.

You are so wet, so creamy, and sticky. And so full. It feels obscene, forbidden, making it even hotter somehow. There is so much cum in you, and oozing out of your swollen pussy. You are overflowing from it. So fucked full of Yuuji's and Megumi's cum.

The boys are kneeling in front of you. Both so tall and strong, much bigger than you. And it's so hot how they each place a strong hand on each of your thighs and push them further apart. There's a feverish glint burning in their eyes as they trail over your abused, swollen cunt. Your clit is still pulsing heavily, your pussy lips are swollen, and Megumi's and Yuuji's combined cum is drooling messily out of your twitching hole.

It should be embarrassing to be exposed like this, and see Yuuji and Megumi look at your fucked and creampied pussy, but the opposite is the case. You mewl softly, pussy clenching greedily around nothing, so turned on by their hungry gazes. They make you feel desired, wanted, and loved.

Yuuji's lips lift in that boyish lopsided grin,

"Wow, look at her! So damn pretty! She's fucked so full of cum... she's overflowing from it. Good job, Fushiguro!"

And he lifts a large hand in a high-five gesture, grinning broadly at his best friend. Megumi's dark blue eyes are still fixed on your pussy, his pale cheeks flushed, and a fascinated expression on his beautiful face. Without taking his eyes away from your pussy he high-fives Yuuji absent-mindedly, replying in an awestruck voice,

"So beautiful. Come here, Itadori... clean your mess up."

Yuuji laughs happily, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes as he crawls over to Megumi and hugs him from behind,

"It's not just my mess."

He presses a loud, wet kiss on Megumi's cheek, and Megumi rolls his eyes, but you can hear the affection in his low voice when he says,

"Yeah, I know, idiot. And what a lovely mess we made."

He trails his hand down your inner thigh and gently pats your drooling pussy, as if he is giving a good dog a headpat. You mewl, thighs twitching, and your hips instinctively lift, pressing your clit against Megumi's hand.

His dark blue eyes look deeply into yours, filled with a kind of tenderness you only see when he looks at you or Yuuji,

"Our good girl. We'll take care of you."

And then Megumi and Yuuji lay down beside you, one on each side, and start cleaning you with their mouths. They take their time, licking and kissing their combined cum slowly off your twitching pussy, occasionally pulling away to kiss each other, making out with each other and your pussy.

One is sucking on your clit while the other fucks into you with his tongue, and then they switch places, or one bumps his nose against the other to push him out of the way, so he can be greedy for a moment and slurp their cum out of you.

You are a helpless moaning mess, your brain mushy and foggy. Megumi and Yuuji are fucking you stupid with their tongues, making you lose your mind until all you can do is sob and cry and whimper, telling them sweet nothings, babbling like an idiot, while your hands each tangle in soft hair, black and pink, tugging firmly on it as they bring you closer and closer to the edge.

You don't know whose tongue it is that sends you over the edge, but you know that the heat that's coiling in your stomach is mind-blowing, and your hips lift off the bed, bucking wildly as you reach another high.

Strong hands press you back down, holding you in place as soft lips and velvety tongues keep making love to your orgasming pussy until you are completely spent, whimpering softly, and slowly coming down from your high.

You open your eyes and see them both looking up at you from between your thighs. Megumi and Yuuji. Ruffled black and pink hair. Dark blue and honey-brown eyes, both filled with so much love. And they are both smiling. One his typical broad sunshine smile that lights up every room. The other that beautiful, gentle smile that is so special because of how exclusive it is.

Your heart is overflowing with love, just like your pussy was overflowing with Megumi's and Yuuji's combined cum just a few minutes ago. You smile at them, catching yourself thinking, "Those are my boys."

You know it's true. Megumi and Yuuji are yours. And they are each other's, too. And it's perfect that way.

I LOVE THEM!!! For real, their dynamic is so cute to me! 💗

I hope you enjoyed Part 3! I had the outline planned for several years, but only now managed to motivate myself to actually finish it, thanks to season 3 and the Fushiita fanservice ;)

I have another part planned. I simply couldn't decide who I want to be in the middle... Reader or Yuuji. Soooo in Part 4 we will have Yuuji in the middle ;) I am looking forward to it 💗